Chapter Six: Didn't They Tell Us Don't Rush Into Things?
You were left alone after he brought your things to the room across from the master bedroom. You told yourself- promised yourself- that you wouldn't cry over something so absurd.
So when the tears did begin to cascade down your cheeks, you told yourself it was the physical pain. There wasn't a way to explain how you were feeling. Vulnerable would be the simplest but not even near the extent of betrayal and stupidity you believed Axel had created.
The room was dark and cold and the only thing grounding you was the thick purple duvet that you clutched into. It was obvious that Hotch didn't decorate this room, the bright white walls and simple décor was contrasting to the earthy dark tones he gravitated towards.
You looked at the large grandfather clock across from the bed, listening to the ticks until each hour passed. A shattering breath escaped your lips as the pain began crumbling. The mental and physical feeling was blending together into a gray line.
Calling out for Hotch wasn't what you wanted. There was pain medication on the bedside table and a glass of water. You slowly turned to your side to switch the lamp on.
Underneath the water was a sticky note with what looked like broken cursive. You disregard whatever it says and grab the bottle, opening it and swallowing the designated amount dryly. Afterwards, you glanced at the note.
I ordered some food if you'd like some. I didn't want to wake you.
-H
Your lungs are constructed. You weren't sleeping, you were just afraid of him when he walked in. You'd never been afraid of the team let alone Hotch but it was like a switch was flipped inside of you.
The grumble your stomach produced was enough to realize that you needed to eat whether you liked it or not. Even if you didn't go downstairs, he would peek into the room and set it on the table for you later.
As you made your way out of the room, you took in the silence that filled the home. Here and there, the sound of a page being flipped was the other indicator that he was downstairs. It was at the third step that he spoke.
"I didn't expect you to come down," Hotch admitted, bringing the black coffee to his lips.
Urging yourself to continue down the stairs, you held your breath. "Me neither, but the doctor said I need to eat."
Subconsciously, you looked around downstairs as you stepped onto the wood floor, looking for weapons, hiding places, or anything just in case. The trust you had once established was gone, and failed to uphold its own weight.
"I got you chicken tenders and fries," he explained. Your brows furrowed as you made your way to the chicken island, spotting the styrofoam box on the marble countertop.
"Chicken tenders?" you queered.
He nodded though you couldn't see him. "You don't like change and I've never seen you eat anything different."
You hummed in agreement, still very on edge with the surroundings. Inside the box was exactly what he said, five chicken tenders and curly fries with ranch. You sat down at a bar stool and began eating slowly. Chewing was enough to cause pins and needles to shoot through your body. Every once in a while, you could feel his eyes glance over at you from the couch. Your backs were to each other, neither one wanted to say something.
There was a cutting board with a knife and apple slices next to you from his snack. You decided that if he'd attack you that the knife was the first thing you would grab. "What are you working on?" you ask.
Hotch sighs a breath and closes whatever it was he was holding. "Case files. Something we worked on a while ago, it went cold. They haven't resurfaced in years."
You listen carefully as he gets off the couch and makes his way towards you. You glance and the knife and your hand twitches. "I didn't expect any of your cases to go cold, you all seem like the dream team,"
"There is only so much we can do," he comes into your view. "So many leads to follow before there is nothing."
Picking up your head to see him, you notice the buttons undone on his shirt, sleeves rolled up, tie and jacket discarded. You swallow thickly and push your food aside as it was getting too cold to enjoy.
"Thank you," you say, "For the food- and everything."
Finally you meet his eyes. The pools of honey swarming in an emotion you can't put your fingers on. You shrink down with your hands in your lap, ignoring your ribs screaming in pain. The medication wasn't doing much if anything.
"It's my job to look out for this team," Hotch crosses his arms, the fabric pulling tightly on his muscles, "I couldn't let you go somewhere you didn't want. I was willing to compromise."
You laughed dryly, confused on why you were suddenly angry. "Compromise" you mumbled under your breath.
The moment the money hit your account again, you were running far, far away. It wasn't in your best interest to stay here. Sure, you sisters were going about their lives but they didn't care anymore. Your father was barely holding it together and your mother- well she found her own way to hell.
"I understand this can be difficult," he murmured, "And we will make sure to protect you from him."
"I don't need protection Hotch," you spat, "I need my money and I need to go. I don't want pity. I am thankful, extremely, but when I see you, I see so much sorrow for me that I can't dare to look at you."
He gulped, jaw clenched and fists pushed into his pockets. "I'll have Garcia work on the money. Axel is under the impression that you died that night, forty-seven million leaving his account will set him off. He is a classic narcissist."
You took a shaker breath, prepared to throw something. You looked up at your boss, standing confidently and guarded. There wasn't a way to stop the attack your body was doing on itself. All your life, no one had truly cared, and you couldn't shake being comfortable about that feeling now.
Avery was most likely asleep so you decided the night would be ending here. Thanking him once again, you rushed to the upstairs bathroom, needing to be away from his presence.
• • •
A A R O N
I don't know what to say. I would beat myself up because this was my job. My pride and joy that ripped my family apart and yet I couldn't empathize with what she was feeling. Guilt twisted me but my face didn't waver as I heard her rush up the stairs. I remember seeing her on the floor, covered in her own blood.
Each person at the BAU had a limit. I don't know Y/N well enough to comment on it. I mentally kick myself for not paying more attention. I don't understand why she didn't tell us.
Legally I did.
I knew the warning signs that were placed in my head during college. Extreme aggression, full control over assets, hyper-sexuality.
Axel displayed everything, not to mention how Y/N would walk into work littered with bruises that she couldn't even explain. I sighed, moving back to the coffee table and looking down at the manila folder. My gun was placed next to it- safety off. I promised to protect her.
My phone rings with Garcia's name flashed across the top.
"Did you find it Garcia?" I grumbled. The once hot coffee is now cold.
"Is that even a question? I'm the goddess of everything and that does include encrypted files," she sang on the other end. "There wasn't much, just Tate's birth certificate, some family assets and inheritance. The Monroe family was low."
I asked her to elaborate.
"Well Celia spent way more time with Axel than Y/N ever did. I thought it was just because she was the maid but I did some digging..." she trailed off, finger tapping the keyboard.
My leg bounced up and down with anticipation. The first order was to investigate Celia Monroe. Logically she spent the most time in the house. There wasn't a true investigation going on, just the urge to find Axel. Something inside me pushed that there was more.
I practiced law, I know the ins and outs.
"What about Tate? Y/N mentioned that she hadn't met her before, or didn't remember."
She hummed in content. "I'm glad you asked the boss man! Tate has Celia's mom's maiden name, Lux, she never visited the house and Celia was hired right after her birth I believe."
"Keep digging Garcia," I said before hanging up the phone.
I got up and grabbed a glass of water for Y/N. She would pretend to be asleep when I got into the room. I know she is scared out of her mind of me. I tried to let loose when I saw her moments ago.
I knocked once before pushing open the door when I got no answer. Her body was curled up under the duvet, clutching the fabric to her chest. The lamp was on, I could see the twitch of her eyelids indicating she was in fact pretending to sleep.
As I made my way to the door, I couldn't help but stop. "Tomorrow Rossi is coming over. Jack might visit, he said he missed me."
I sighed, "You don't have to come down, I'm just warning you. Garcia got some new evidence," I felt bad for lying but I needed to tell her something.
Then I left.
Morning rolled around quicker than I could have imagined. I was in a black button up and dark navy slacks. Even though I was home, Dave was here for the case, simple. Y/N never did come down for the first few hours of the morning. Her body was weak, frail, the rest was vital to her recovery. I could tell she was itching to get back to work and I was willing after she was cleared.
"Your whisky is horrible Aaron," Dave chuckled, he always had a tough grading system on liquor. "I need to bring you some buon liquore Italiano."
I clenched my jaw and pulled out the file. "It's eleven A.M. liquor isn't on my mind," I opened the case, "Garcia said she found that Tate has the last name Lux, Celia's mother's name."
Dave relaxed against the chair with a smile, twisting the gold ring around his finger. "Tradition." He said simply.
I almost felt embarrassed for caring so much about this. What if there really wasn't something deeper, something to lure my mind into a world wind of theories. Since Haley, I wanted to be occupied all the time.
"It doesn't make sense why she would do that. Monroe is Celia's fathers name so why choose a different one from Tate? Celia had the last name Lux before."
"Aaron," Dave sighed, "You can't wrap yourself in this. We need to find Axel and arrest him, look at what is important here." Dave spoke wisely, the gray hairs on his mustache and chin showed the years of experience and age he had with this work.
I couldn't stop though. I was convinced there was even a sliver of something to explain everything. Why did Axel's father leave her with so much money? Celia had worked there for years and she never met her daughter. Axel didn't have a violent past before Y/N.
"This doesn't add up, Rossi. Axel was a good kid, straight A's, ready to go to Yale. He had everything. When Y/N was introduced into the picture, a switch was flipped."
Once again, he stared at me with a look of disappointment. "We have to find Axel," slowly he closed the file I had put together when I couldn't sleep. "Afterwards we can worry about everything else and follow any leads you'd like."
"What is the update on his location?" I asked, changing the subject. The file was glowing in front of my eyes, begging to be opened.
Dave took another swing of the butter liquid.
"There are seventeen properties, ten of them in Y/N's name and seven in his. All have come up empty. They are scattered around North America, Europe and Asia. They have old money Aaron."
I watched as he picked up a glass next to his and slowly poured me a glass hanging me the delicate class.
"Per trovare Axel, Salute!"
My glass clinked with his before I downed the entire thing down my throat.