Chapter Twenty Four: Where Have You Been?
"I don't understand this game," Hotch grumbled watching you place down your last card. He lost, again.
"Don't worry, one day you'll get the hang of it— when I'm not here to beat you every time." You tease.
It's been about three days since the dinner on the roof with Jack. Recently, you'd been occupied with decorating your office everyday with the help of Penelope when she gets the chance. The team just got back from a case and Hotch surprised you with ice cream, the one with all the colors of the rainbow.
You didn't care to question why half the team was missing during the case. When Hotch called you for those three nights away, you only wanted to hear his voice. Distancing yourself from everything has been a blessing. You're writing more and not just about Axel, but your knew relationship with Hotch.
There wasn't a label on it and that's what you liked. You liked being able to explore with him without locking it down already.
"You will always be here to beat me," he protests, "I'll have to play with Jack, maybe he can help me beat you."
You smile, "Jack would beat you as well, I thought you were more strategic than this. Place a card with the same color or number, easy."
"There are more cards than just numbers and colors. I don't know what this means," he explains, placing down a wild card.
"That means that you can use it to make it any color you'd like," you say shaking your head softly, "Aaron it's just uno."
"It's a derogatory game."
You chuckle, "Now you're just being a sore loser."
"I'm getting a beer," he sighs, getting up off the floor, cracking his back along the way.
"What about the cards?!" you groan, collecting then into a pile and separating them into the box. "You suck Aaron."
"What a derogatory insult, sweetheart," he teases, "Didn't think you'd have that in you."
"Do you like the word derogatory? You've said it twice already."
"It's a descriptive word," Hotch cracks the beer open and takes a sip.
You roll your eyes and climb onto the couch. Your body sinks into the soft cushions and you close your eyes for a moment. Even though you've been trying to sleep, lately it's been even harder and you're physically exhausted. You didn't know what was happening with Axel, which you thought would be best— and it is, but your curiosity was always there.
Heavy footsteps travel over to you and Hotch sits down next to you, moving your head to place it in his lap. He grabs the remote and turns on the TV to a crime show of course. He can't get away from it all, he doesn't want to. Gently, he runs his fingers through your hair.
Hopefully you can sleep now. It's been hell laying awake and looking at the ceiling every night. You start therapy in two days. One that isn't attached to the FBI for your own sanity. It's a fancy one Hotch insisted you go to for the best care in DC.
"I'm nervous," you admit, "What if I hate my therapist?"
"Than we will find you a new one, and if you hate them, we'll move onto the next."
"That's good to know," you laugh. "I hope they don't have white walls in the office."
"Why?"
"It's a blinding color," you say. "And it's just— I don't know, I just don't like white walls."
"I'll make sure you never have to see them again," Hotch chuckles.
"I think that's impossible, it's a common wall color," you explain.
Biting the inside of your cheek, you go silent for a moment. You didn't know how to explain the fear of white walls or why you were talking about it in the first place. Honestly, you were like an information bank that was overflowing and Hotch was your outlet. Telling him was more therapeutic than anyone could ever be. You'd never say that to him, though.
A sudden banging on the door makes you jump out of his lap. You look at each other as it continues, harsh and rapid like someone is desperate to get in. "Who's that?" you whisper.
"Stay here," he orders harshly. He walks quietly into the kitchen and pulls open a drawer. A gun comes out, one you didn't even know existed.
He cocks it and walks slowly. His back is against the wall and he motions you to be quiet. You furrow your brows and slid down onto the floor. Hotch moves to the peep hole, staring carefully for a moment.
"What the hell?" he mutters under his breath.
"What?" you ask harshly, annoyed at how terrified he is making you. No one knocks at the door in such a secluded area without him knowing they're coming.
"It's Harmony," he says, placing the gun in his waistband. Next, the locks are open and he is opening the door.
Your breath is caught in your throat. Harmony is here. Why the hell is she here? How did she get her? Is Axel with her? You get off the floor and walk over to the door where Hotch already stands.
Harmony is on the other side, shivering in the cold with only a sweatshirt that doesn't look like hers and torn jeans. Her red hair is matted and her face looks like it got the blunt of a beating. Her eye is swollen, lip busted open, nose bleeding. You bite your tongue at you all look at each other in silence. The cold air brushes your skin into the house.
She swallows thickly like it pains her, "May I come in? Please." She pleads.
You and Hotch share a look before he opens the door wider and she steps into the house. The way she walks says enough, she's hurt badly.
"What happened?" you question as softly as you can. You try to ignore the fact that the girl who stalked you in standing in your home but you know her circumstances.
"I- I uh," she paused to place a hand on her forehead, "I miscarried, I didn't know," she breathes.
"Harmony," you say, "We need to get you to a hospital."
"No," she coughs, "I'm okay. I know you don't like me right now- but can I stay here just for a day? He doesn't know I left."
You grip the sides of your pant legs and suck in a hefty amount of air. Hotch isn't even looking at her, he is leaning on the door frame with a hand pinching his nose. "That isn't really my call-"
"Y/N, you know what he did. It was the same as the night you nearly died," Harmony rushes out. "He told me everything and I knew it wasn't your fault, so he did the same to me."
"Axel isn't my problem anymore." You say.
It was like a knife to your stomach. You wanted to help her, even God knew you would, but you didn't know if you had the will to relive everything through her. This wasn't even your decision to let her stay. You walk over to Hotch and grip the hem of his shirt.
"I have no where to go, I'm only 19– my family cut me off," she begins to cry.
You tug on Hotch to make him look at you. When he does, you can see the remorse in his eyes. But he eventually nods despite your own look towards him.
"You have to tell me everything." You say. "Leave nothing out, you will help us if you stay here, do you understand?"
Harmony's eyes widen and she nods quickly. "Good. Let's get you cleaned up and something to eat, yes?"
Again, she nods and you reach for her arm to help her upstairs. She walks slowly but by the time you're up the stairs, she is clutching her stomach and hissing in pain. You open the bathroom door and tell her to sit on the counter while you get everything ready.
You grab some clothes from the master bedroom and a towel. You feel your eyes swell with tears but you push the lump down your throat. It feels like your air is constricted. When you return, she is in the same position. She reminds you so much of yourself that you have to look away. Her hair is the same length as yours. Axel probably made her cut it. You turn on the bath water and make sure it's warm but not too hot.
As horrible as it sounds, you didn't want to look at her. You knew it was the same. It was painful. "I can leave and come back in fifteen minutes, call my name if you need something."
Hesitantly, she says okay and when you put your hand on the door knob, she calls your name. You close your eyes for a moment and wait for her to continue.
"Can you stay, please?" she cries, "I'm j-just really scared right now and I don't want to be alone," the cracks in her voice make you tighten your hands.
"Yeah," you give in. You wait for her to undress and get in before you turn back around for her privacy. When she's done and you hear the water splash, you turn around. "What happened?"
She sighs, "I started running yesterday. We were in Oregon but I don't know where he is now. I left in the middle of the night and got on a plane to Denver then here."
"How?"
"I stole his money that Celia gave him. I knew it was yours. I took as much as I could, I wanted to give it back to you."
"You didn't have to take that risk, I'm fine off right now," you grit through your teeth.
"I know," she whispers, "But you deserve someone who is going to fight for you."
"I could say the same," you explain.
"I have myself. My family decided to lose contact after I decided I wanted to be a journalist. I wanted something for myself you know? Not living off my family's money."
"I understand," you sympathize, "That's why I went to Law school. My family wasn't as well off but they were willing to help me out."
"You're lucky to have them," she says.
That was a breaking point. Tears fell from your eyes in a silent cry. You were trying so hard to hold it in but you couldn't anymore. Because you remember everything now. You don't have a family. Avery created more for herself and your father was at fault for the fire so he decided to drink and look like a victim.
"Yeah I am," you mutter. "They're the best."
"Can I ask you something?"
You hum in agreement.
"Did you ever have sex with him?"
"No."
"He said you did. Said you wanted a family so badly but I knew it wasn't true, not when he had Celia around with Tate, even if he didn't know."
"He didn't tell me about them," you say, "I thought they were just a mother and daughter who worked for us."
"Well that wasn't true, was it?"
"Harmony, where is he now?" you change the subject.
"Right now? I wish I knew. Probably trying to find me, but he won't."
You duck down into the drawers and cabinets inside of the sink. You grab out a first aid kit along with some rubbing alcohol. If she was staying here, you might as well help the best you can. You didn't want to be selfish. She's so young and lost and confused. It would be cruel not to at least try.
"This might sting but you need to stay still," you explain, crouching onto the bathmat. "How far along were you?"
Harmony shrugs, making the water slash a little onto your shirt. "Twelve weeks maybe? I only found out when I was already going through the miscarriage."
Taking out a piece of gauze, you put some alcohol on it. You begin to dab the cuts on her face to get off the blood and avoid infection. She doesn't even flinch and you think that's what hurts you more— she's become immune. Clearing your throat you bite your lip.
"You miscarried during your trip?"
"It wasn't the best," she tries to laugh but it comes out as a cry, "I'd only been intimate once and it ended in pregnancy. I think when he kicked me, it caused it."
"We have to take you to the hospital," you sigh, "You could have an infection, or be seriously hurt."
"I can't go to the hospital," Harmony protests, "I hate needles."
"A needle is the least of your worries right now, trust me. Let us take you, please."
She falls silent as you continue to clean her up. You place bandaids on her cuts even though it isn't the best, you try your best. You didn't exactly pass first aid. Next, you ask her to lean down so you can wash her hair. You lather the soap in while you both stay quiet. You try to be gentle like Hotch was with you.
Then you wash her body and drain the water. You hand her the towel and search for a pad. "I have to run the store okay? You'll stay in the guest bedroom. Aaron will be here so you won't be alone, he won't hurt you."
"Do you promise?" Harmony whispers.
You smile softly, "I promise."
• • •
Aaron POV
Harmony doesn't remind me of Y/N. She's younger and less fragile than what Y/N was. I know she is terrified right now after Y/N left to get pads for Harmony's bleeding. I cooked soup for her, it was a recipe I learned during one of my lessons.
When I brought it up to her, she thanked me and rolled onto her side. I left her to her own thoughts while I went downstairs. I was standing in the kitchen when I pulled out my phone to call Morgan.
"Do you have something for me baby girl?" He greets.
"Start checking your caller ID first," I answer sternly. I hear curses on the other side of the phone.
"Hotch, I thought you were Penelope. We have something."
"What did you find?"
"A property in Oregon. Under the Jacobs name. We searched it and we found stacks of cash and a computer."
"Did you find information?"
"I sent it over to Garcia, she is supposed to be searching it now. Should call back any second."
I lean on the counter and furrow my brows. "How close are we?"
Morgan moves around, "Really close Hotch."
"Call me when you find something," I say before hanging up.
After Harmony McGraw showed up I called the team immediately. They know everything in this moment and once Garcia checks the computer, this should be over very soon. This is a hard case, one of the hardest I've had in a while, it's personal.
I find myself missing Y/N with each passing minute. I finished off my beer already and I'm itching to go into the office but I can't. So I grab Axels case file and start looking over it again.
• • •
Y/N POV
You got home shortly after the sun began to set. You found Hotch on the couch with a manila case file. You didn't even look at it while you made your way upstairs. When you walked into the guest bedroom, Harmony was rolled onto her side and silent. With a sigh, you walked over and sat on the edge of the bed.
"I got pads, for the bleeding," you explain, "I-I don't know what exactly you're going through right now, I've never lost a child- but if you need anything-"
"I get it." Harmony grumbled, curling closer into the sheets. "The sop speech, I get it okay?"
"I'm trying to help you. I may have not experienced a miscarriage but I have experienced Axel."
Harmony takes a moment to think, the darkness a blanket of its own over the room. Her hair was sprawled out over the pillow. "Does it get better?"
You suck in a breath at her words— nearly identical to the ones you asked Hotch in his office. You know what the pain is like. To feel so endlessly empty that your heart starts to cave in and you can't breathe correctly.
"Soon enough, when you're ready to accept the grief." You whisper. You run your hand over her forehead and grab the bag from the floor.
Pulling out the box, you set it on the nightstand. Harmony rolls over and looks at you. It was enough to express her thoughtfulness, how thankful she was to have you. With a soft smile, you say you'll grab her some more clothes before exiting the bedroom.
Once you're back downstairs, you curl into Hotch's side on the couch and he locks an arm around you, kissing your forehead. "Everything okay?" he asks.
"Yeah, I think we can really help her. She reminds me a lot of myself."
"How so?"
"She's broken but strong enough to hide it, even if she shouldn't," you smile sadly, "She's stubborn."
"Accurate description of you," he chuckled.
"Oh em gee, you weren't supposed to agree!" you protest, sitting up and little bit to look at the genuine smile on his face.
"It's a compliment sweetheart," he insists, leaning down to peck your lips. "I saved some Alfredo for you."
You hum in contentment, yet too comfy to stand. So you push your body closer to his and breathe in his scent. "Were you always this sweet under that concrete expression?"
"Concrete?"
"Sometimes I'd look at you every once in a while," you begin in a light, joking tone, "And you'd have the same expression for hours, I thought your face was made on concrete."
Hotch stiffens under you, "Why do you always insult me when we're sitting on the couch? Are the other rooms off limits?"
You shake your head, "Not the bedroom!"
He opens to mouth to say something but you place your finger over it with a shushing sound. You lean closer to his ear, hand on his upper thigh.
The brown eyes widen with anticipation, a single brow raised almost in a challenge. Leaning closer to his ear, you place a kiss on his neck and hover over his earlobe.
"Can you-" you pause to catch yourself from laughing, "Aaron, can you get me some Alfredo?"
-
A/N-
Listen I know that I am notorious for not updating for weeks at a time but, school is getting real hard. Student council is up my ass 90% of the time so I haven't been able to write but I tried to finish this in Spanish, sorry if it isn't the best! Love y'all <33