Chapter Fourteen: I Still Remember The Third Of December
Three days later and the team was done with the case. Hotch still insisted on staying behind even though you had already visited the mansion. You had just got done saying goodbyes to the team. They all insisted you relax the next few days. You assured them that's the only plan and Hotch would look out for you. You were eating a muffin for the breakfast section of the hotel you were staying at while Hotch typed in his laptop.
"You know you don't have to work anymore," you mumbled, "Technically you're off, Rossi is filling in. Your brain is going to fry you know."
"My brain isn't going to fry and I still have an obligation to the team which includes you. It's just paperwork."
"You're like a working machine. I sometimes wonder if you run in gasoline," you laugh. "Wait- you don't, right?" You asked, suddenly becoming serious.
His straight face doesn't fathom, "No I do not. What do you think about coming back to work? The team misses seeing you everyday and you've proven you can handle it."
You huffed and sunk back into the chair, setting the muffin wrapped in the table next to you. Truthfully, you didn't know the answer. Even if you've proven yourself, you didn't know if you could handle the case load this soon. Weirdly enough, you helped with nearly every single case that came through the BAU, whether it was from the team or another division.
During those days, you were so busy that you used to stay the night in your office. It was the most exciting thing about your life but it was up there. Even with working there for three months, you didn't pick up on everything. You are still new to the programs and way things run there.
"I haven't decided yet. I really want to, I just don't know if I'm fully ready, mentally I mean. The cases are long and hard excluding the time in court I have to deal with. I thought arguing with people would make me more relaxed."
"That's what I thought too, the satisfaction wasn't enough," he pauses as though he has something else to say but is scared.
You sit up straight in your seat now, "What is it?"
He clears his throat and closes his laptop. You could tell he was about to ask something serious from the way he readjusts his tie. He looked as though he was about to talk to a victim's family member. You didn't have the feeling that washed over you because of his posture.
"When I worked in prosecution, it gave me closure but I always felt like I could've done more. I continued because Haley liked the hours and it was more flexible to work for," he paused and gulped, "Watching criminals be put behind bars and be convicted was exhilarating but I wanted- I needed more."
You tilted your head to the side in confusion. What was this man getting in about? This was the most you've heard him talk at once, he usually would break things up into small pieces and allow you to process. Soft, chipped sighs pooled out of your mouth like a never ending thread. If he wanted you to come back to work, what is the point of this?
"Aaron, I don't follow," you say.
He places a finger up to signal you to just listen. You went quiet and looked him in the eye. You waited for him to continue on, but he didn't for a moment. Deciding to run a hand down his face, he looked stressed about this- almost fearful.
"When I would lose a case, it was the worst feeling because I knew that there was nothing else I could do, I didn't have that power. After the police did what they could and I did what I could- I felt hopeless."
Despite still being confused in the direction of the conversation, you attempted to process the underlying motive of his words. They seem to bring him hope, you can see it in his eyes that he wants you to comprehend what he is saying. You nearly do, but you're afraid that you will think rationally rather than thinking it through. Taking into consideration the feeling he describes of disappointment is so pure. There isn't a better way to understand how it felt to see people walk free because you failed at your job.
Hotch takes a large gulp, almost as though he is preparing to say something next. Your hands begin to sweat, you wipe them on your jeans and listen intently for his next words.
"Every night, I could be full of so much guilt, it nearly ate me alive. No one ever talked about it as a lawyer, they assumed that when the worst people walked free, it wasn't on us. I was young and didn't know what I truly wanted to do, I acted impulsively because I knew law would make me enough money to support Haley and it was still in the criminal justice area."
"How did you get past it?" you asked. Because you understood. You knew the guilt, the pain, the sorrow of disappointing a victim's family. They count on you, after the unsub is caught- they are out for blood.
Looks cross over their face when you fail. You can close your eyes and recount hundreds of them. Working with the BAU meant cases were always constant. You were overworked and tired. Even in the court, the satisfaction didn't make up for the demands you put on yourself.
A few people walked through the hotel lobby but didn't pay any attention to the two of you.
"I didn't," he says. "I made a decision to pick up my life and make it better and change. I had resistance of course, but I wouldn't change my choices. Seeing people be thrown in jail for the good is better then anything that happened in the courtroom."
You laughed dryly. Though it wasn't actually a happy laugh, it still brought a small smirk to Hotch's face. Your stomach swarmed with butterflies that you couldn't ignore. The kiss continued to play in your mind over and over. How his lips felt on yours was a feeling that was heavenly. The possessive grip on your hips, the small groan he had released just before you stopped.
Running through the tunnel, the glimmer of affection showing in his eyes when you stopped him from running. How he called you sweetheart and the warmth that spread across you when it happened. God, how did your thoughts get so off topic?
"Wouldn't leaving just cause you a whole bunch of debt? Law school isn't cheap," you teased.
A real smile pulls his cheeks. It brightens the gloomy room and you can't help but reciprocate. "I had a scholarship, Harvard Law. Now that you mention it, it may have been a waste but I can still use it as a weapon."
You chuckle at his poor attempt at a joke. A single brow on his face raises, waiting for you to explain the sudden burst of joy. "Hotch- you went to Harvard Law, on a scholarship?"
It was hard to believe but not at the same time. Hotch is a smart man, one of the wisest you've ever met. Still, Harvard doesn't exactly just give out full-ride scholarships for fun. You imagined that he worked his ass off, you would too. In more simple words, it's baffling that he would change career patches after that.
"Yes," he breathes, "I did."
For a while, you began to forget about your conversation from last night about Celia. You'd trust Hotch to handle it if he insists on keeping you in the dark. He clears his throat and continues on with what he was saying.
"After a homicide case that Rossi introduced me to, I was captivated by the crime. I was so intrigued how he was able to analyze and catch an unsub with studying behavior. The BAU was small back then, only two people: Rossi and Gideon. They created the unit but no one took it seriously but I did. "
You tilted your head to the side in a form of confusion. "The BAU wasn't an existing unit? By the praise it received from the state department, I assumed it was already standing for years."
"No, it wasn't," Hotch clarified your question. This was the most you've also seen him relaxed since the Axel accident at the mansion in Virginia. "Rossi said that I had a talent for crime."
"So did you leave?"
He nodded before leaning toward to rest his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. He looked up at you through hooded eyes. Your heart begins to beat a million miles per minute and now you finally understand. You bite the inside of your cheek, already feeling his eyes on your nervous tick.
"Do you ever regret it?" you questioned.
"Never," a deep breath is sucked into his lungs, "Y/N, you have a talent for crime. You are exceptional in the court but you act fast, on instinct. You got us out of the estate and that- that is what makes a masterful agent."
You take a moment to soak in his words. There were only a few times that you thought about becoming an agent. It would allow more leeway in investigations and even if you can't become one before the Axel case is over, it would bring you more pride to chase these criminals down.
"I don't know-"
"You don't have to make a decision now but Dave agrees. He's seen the way you react to things. You have it in you Y/N, don't let that go to waste."
You contemplate his statement for a moment, merely trying to think it through. The idea had passed through your mind a few times, but you never seriously considered it. It was a big step, not to mention the tones of work it was. You'd have to pass the entrance exam then go through the academy and extra classes.
"How did you know it was right for you? I couldn't imagine changing so quickly when it comes to what you're passionate about."
Hotch looked you dead in the eye, conveying the sense of urgency through his eyes. "I knew it was right when I felt the urge to challenge myself."
You were captivated by his words, struggling to understand how you ended up in this topic in the first place. By the way his fingers rub together, it's clear that he wanted to bring this up for a while now, yet he was distracted. There wasn't ever going to be the most perfect time to bring it up.
"I'll think it over but for now," you get up and reach a hand out for him. He hesitated but took it. "I want to show you my favorite place in New York."
• • •
Hotch stands in front of a small shack painted in rainbow colors. Looking around, you take in the nostalgia that the place gives you. Tables in all different colors, umbrellas decorating them while still providing shade despite the cold weather. Snow coats the ground like a blanket. You try to ignore how good Hotch looks, slacks and a button up with a black trench coat over it. Two buttons are undone on his shirt and his cheeks are burnt red from the cold.
"It's freezing outside Y/N." He states simply, nearly annoyed with a hint of amusement. You only had another day in New York, it would be criminal not to visit your favorite spot that used to get you through dark times with Axel.
It also took your mind off the envelope. You still haven't opened it and you don't know when you plan on doing it. Probably when you get back and you have your journal to document your new theories. No new text messages came, that was another plus.
"I know!" You squealed, clapping your hands together. So much excitement was taking you over.
Hotch sighs and runs a hand down his face before motioning to the shack. "It's an ice cream parlor. There is snow in the ground for you to eat."
Absent-mindedly, you latch onto his arm and squeeze it with your whole body. You were ready to have ice cream even if he was raining on your parade. Slowly, he wraps an arm around your waist. You barely notice with the numerous layers you have on, however the heat still spreads through you. You shiver at the temperature change but don't make an effort to move him.
You stepped up to the counter to greet a teenage boy working, no older than fourteen. You ordered your usual: taro, and Hotch ordered cookies and crème. Just as you are about to pay, he swiftly puts ten dollars cash on the table and thanks the boy. You thank him and insist that you could've paid while you waited on the ice cream.
His hand never moved, nudged, or twitched. You felt more protected with his hand around you, or maybe it was his gun pressing against your side. Either way, you were more comfortable than you'd ever been. After a short wait, you got your ice cream and moved to sit at one of the tables.
Your first bite was the best. "I will never get over this place. I used to come here nearly everyday. It's cheap and amazing."
"It's mediocre," he grumbled but continued to take endless bites. It was a sight to see him eat sweets. "Alright at best."
You roll your eyes with a laugh, "You're such a party pooper, do you know that? You keep eating it so I assume with my profiler skills, that you actually really, really, like it."
"You're evolving Y/N."
You nodded in appreciation while holding down a laugh. Just as you opened your mouth, you were interrupted by a ping on your phone. Your stomach turns immediately and you drop the spoon into the ice cream cup. Hotch is so invested in the treat that he doesn't even look up to see what it was.
With shaking hands, you grab your phone off the table and allow it to light up. You jinx yourself. That's the only way to explain it. When you saw the unknown contact pop up, you physically had to force yourself not to gasp. A few moments ago you were happy yet nervous he hadn't texted. The reality of it is so much worse than you perceived.
Opening the text, you scanned over it quickly so as not to raise suspicion from the agent in front of you.
1-(800)-198-1798
Ice cream in this weather? I would expect nothing less. Say hello to Aaron Hotchner for me, I knew my intuition was right before. The kiss you shared was pathetic on your part, breaking down already for a man you met a few months ago. I'll be sure to pay a visit soon just as you did. The mansion calls: home sweet home.
You suck in a shaker breath, nearly dropping the phone out of your hands. Hotch looks up at you.
"Everything alright?" He asks quizzically. His brows were furrowed, mouth in a slight frown. He studies the way you take a moment to respond as though you are in shock.
"Yes- yes everything is fine. Avery's husband fell, had an urgent care visit. He has a concussion, he'll be okay," you lie perfectly.
A sense of relief takes him over and you wonder how good a profiler he can really be. Or how good of a liar you really are. After all, you did lie everyday for years. You decide to change the subject, tired of thinking about the man for hours on end.
"Did you like it? Don't lie either, I know," you laugh, pointing to the ice cream. "I'm sure Jack would love this place.
"He would. The ice cream was fine".
You shake your head with a huff, "That's only because you're an old man and don't like anything sweet. You're going through a phase Aaron."
Offense is thrown around carelessly. Hotch looks taken aback by your comment but ends up cracking a smile. His hard facade has been slowly melting away around you. Despite the text, you couldn't help but be happy that you're beginning to trust each other. You place your hands in between your legs so he won't see them shaking rapidly.
"I don't think there is a phase where you hate ice cream because of old age."
An air of confidence comes off of him. You click your tongue and collect your bowls. You look around you, scared that Axel is really here. As you look, you catch a glimpse of a familiar face. It's quick and you barely notice it. The fire red hair is the main indicator, hidden under a black beanie.
She wore all black. A sleek tight dress with tights and high boots, a long coat to go on top. It was the waitress that served you at the diner. Weirdly she looks confident, arrogant even, her head is held extremely high, shoulders pushed back as she adjusts her turtleneck. Hotch seems to notice as well but doesn't see any harm.
You make eye contact with the woman, a sharp and quick movement, so fast that you barely register what is happening. She doesn't have ice cream, only a cup of what seems to be hot chocolate. She raised her brows almost as a warning then went back to her phone like she didn't even notice you.
"Come on," Hotch ushers you without understanding what was happening. He places his hand on the small of your back and you're on your way.
"Did you see her?" you frantically ask. He nods and glances at you, taking a double take at your frail sight.
"Did she do something?"
You don't answer. "She served us at the diner," you state instead.
"Yes she did...what's going on sweetheart," his voice is strong and unworried. Maybe you're just overreacting and Hotch would think so as well. It just doesn't seem right.
"S-she looks different, more airy and," you paused to take a breath, unsure on how you're going to explain this. You're just paranoid about the text. Perhaps you imagined the whole thing, she didn't scowl at you or even look different. "She is carrying herself differently."
With a sigh, Hotch steps in front of you, gripping your shoulders. "People are more confident when they are alone, they dress in clothes that give them pride and don't have to interact with others. Every person carries themself differently in public."
You curse yourself for being so afraid to tell him about your feelings. Had you said something about the texts, he would understand what you meant. How she glanced at you at the diner, you got a text not long before. She shows up here before you get a text, explicit details about your location that she would have relied on Axel. The more you explain it to yourself in your head, the more you stop believing your own theories.
"No, you're right. I'm sorry I brought it up."
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