A gentle hand on your knee wakes you up from your sleep. "Y/N." Reid shakes you. You jolt a little and tiredly look up at him, "We just landed." He gives you a soft smile.
You gather up your bag and your case files before standing up and making your way off the jet with everyone else. You put as much distance as possible between you and Hotch. You've managed to avoid his gaze since last night. You're torturing him, you can see that. It's not your intention, truly, but it seems as if every interaction between the two of you ends in pain.
It always ends in yelling or fighting. You know what you have to do. You have to release one another from this pain. At the thought, you feel sick to your stomach. You don't want to let him go. But all the hurt you've caused him? How can you go on like this? How can you pretend like you haven't hurt him?
You walk into the BAU feeling numb. Your body feels like it's on autopilot as you walk to put your bags away at your desk. You hear the team talking behind you but the conversation feels distant.
"Ok we all need a drink," Prentiss plops down into her desk chair, swiveling around slowly.
"As long as Rossi is buying I'm there," Morgan points and slides his go-bag under his desk.
"Y/N, you in?" Reid turns to look at you.
"Hm?" You snap your head around, looking away from Hotch's office as you watch him walk up the stairs.
"You want to go grab drinks with us?" Reid wraps his hands around the strap of his bag.
You take one more glance up at Hotch's office, looking at him through the window as he sits at his desk, placing his head in both hands. "I uh... I think I'm going to just head home for the night." You give the whole team a forced smile. You can tell from the way JJ's eyes narrow at you that they can tell you're lying but no one is going to bother to push you. They were able to clearly sense the tension between the two of you on the plane.
You lean back against your desk and give a small nod as the team moves to file out, "You'll be sorely missed, kid." Morgan rubs your shoulder lightly as they leave the office.
You wait a moment, taking a slow breath in. Is it normal for your heart to hurt this much? Every minute you think about what you have to do, your heart pangs with guilt. Releasing him from pain is what you need to do. When you love someone, let them go... right? You're too difficult for him. Too damaged. Too snippy, too snarky, too unloveable.
Once again, your body feels as if it is moving on its own as you walk up the stairs and knock on the door lightly.
"Come in," Hotch clears his throat slightly.
You open the door and step in. "Hotch listen—"
"If you're here to yell at me or fight with me," Hotch starts frustratedly.
"I'm not," You sigh, "We need to talk."
"I already have a mountain of paperwork to get done before tomorrow so maybe we can table this to tomorrow," Hotch looks away from you and back down to the paperwork.
"Aaron," You argue, your voice steely and icy. You need his attention, you need him to listen to you.
That catches his attention. He puts his pen down. "Yes?"
"Don't get angry with me," You cross your arms, "I'm trying to talk to you, isn't that what you're always asking me to do, to talk with you?"
"You made it clear the other night that you didn't want anything to do with me," Hotch scoffs lightly.
You bite the inside of your cheek harshly, "I'm trying here, Aaron."
"I can't do the hot and cold anymore, Y/N," He remains seated at his desk.
"You are such a hypocrite," You sigh frustratedly, "You get mad at me for hiding things with sex but then you turn around and do the right thing."
"I wasn't hiding anything—"
"Hotch, you were jealous. You wanted to be possessive," You let out a bitter laugh, "You wanted to claim me." You pause and clarify, "Look, I understand that a little jealousy is normal. You were angry. I get it. But what you did to me? That was unfair. That sex was..." You don't even know what to say.
Hotch pulls a hand up to his face, rubbing his fingers over his lips lightly.
You pause for a second and sigh, "I'm not mad about the sex, Aaron."
"Then why are you still so frustrated with me?" He lets out, throwing his hands out in frustration.
"Are you really so incapable of seeing how the way you've treated me at work is unfair?"
"I've treated you unfairly? You've disrespected me at every fucking turn of this case. Not to mention in front of the team." He finally stands up from his desk, placing his palms firmly on the surface.
"Oh please," You shake your head, "Morgan has disagreed with you and mouthed off to you a million times. You reprimand him but never not once have you have made it seem as if he's incapable of doing his job."
"With Morgan that's... it's different." He glances away from you temporarily.
"Really? How is it different? Please explain to me how it's different."
"I'm not in love with Morgan!" Hotch raises his voice and gestures out his office windows towards the bullpen. You let out a small breath and take a moment. You don't even know what to say. You open your mouth to say something but your mind goes blank.
Hotch walks around his desk to take a few steps towards you, "Please don't push me away. I know you feel something for me too," His voice softens. He reaches a hesitant hand out to cup your cheek.
"I don't know how to do this," You whisper, leaning into his touch. "I don't know how to go on like this with you. We can't even do our jobs properly anymore."
"We can work through it." His thumb brushes over your bottom lip. You want to pull away from his touch. Your eyes sting with tears. You can't think of the last time you let Hotch see you cry.
"Can we? You really can look me in the eyes and just pretend all the hurtful things I've said don't matter?" You look up at him, through bleary, tear-filled eyes and you see his face fall slightly
"What I said yesterday about you sleeping around and... I didn't mean it. You know that. I know you didn't mean the things you said."
"Can you ever really forget what I've said?" You feel him pull his hand away from your cheek. "Because I know I sure as hell have been playing your words on repeat in my head."
This time, it's Hotch who doesn't know what to say.
"I want this to work, Aaron, I do," You say softly, "I really do care for you."
"But you don't love me," He pulls his hand away, his voice taking on a bitter tone that cuts through you.
You open your mouth to speak and you want to say it. Those three words are on the tip of your tongue. Something else comes out instead.
"I'll clean out my desk in the morning," You speak up, breaking the silence.
"So you're just giving up on us?" He chuckles sadly. "We'll talk about this in the morning." He turns away from you.
"No Hotch, we're talking about this now," You grab his wrist and pull his attention back to you.
"You're giving up your job? That's ridiculous," He argues.
"Hotch please, trust me on this," Your hands go to cradle your face tiredly.
"I'm just supposed to let you walk away from me and your career?" He rips his hand from your grip.
"We're obviously not able to do our jobs while we're around one another," You protest, "Maybe if I take a step back from this job we can sort all this out."
"I'm not letting you quit," He points his finger out at the bullpen, "And the team— the team can't function without you."
"The team was just fine without me before," You try to convince him, "Can't you see that all we've done to one another in this job is hurt each other?" You sigh and bend down to pick up your bag, "I'll be here tomorrow morning with my resignation and you can't change my mind."
"Y/N," Hotch tries again but you simply turn and leave the office.
You reach up and wipe your eyes harshly. Are you being rash? Absolutely. But you know that the longer you stand there with Hotch, the more you're going to hurt him. You can't even tell him you love him... do you love him?
You're not quite sure you've ever been in love before. He makes you happy. He gives you that giddy feeling deep inside your stomach. Every little look, every stolen glance. It all makes your heart flutter. But he makes you laugh. You make him laugh. And not just those little chuckles when Reid is rambling or Morgan and Garcia embarrass each other over the phone. You make him really laugh. And his laugh always makes you laugh.
The first time you heard him truly laugh you couldn't contain yourself. For such a dark, deeply serious man, his higher-pitched, full of life laugh had you reeling. His sense of humor makes you really laugh too. He's not the stone-cold team leader everyone thinks of when they think of Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner. He's sarcastic and witty. He teases you relentlessly.
And the way he knows just how to make you feel cared for. He makes you feel seen. But is it him or is it the attraction to him? I mean it's not a question that you're attracted to him. The physical chemistry is there. But is it love?
In lust with Aaron Hotchner? Yes. But lust and longing are a lot different than love.
You rifle through your bag for your car keys. Once you finally get them out, you clumsily drop them onto the pavement, "Shit." You bend down and pick it up. You stand up straight.
A gloved hand clamps over your mouth and you're yanked back flush against a tall body behind you. You fumble for the holster at your hip but a sharp pinch in your neck has your vision blurring more and more by the second. You raise an elbow and attempt to throw it back into the gut of the person behind you, but just as you raise your arm, it goes weak and flops to your side. Your phone clatters to the ground. As you fade in and out of consciousness you feel your body tossed into the trunk of your own car and the car speeds out of the parking garage at top speed.
——
Hotch walks a few steps out of his office looking out over the bullpen. He looks down at his watch at the time. He leans against the railing slightly.
"Something wrong?" Rossi walks out of his office and leans on the railing next to Hotch.
"Y/N," He trails off.
"She's not here," Rossi notes, "Something happen last night?"
"She told me she was resigning," Hotch lets out and turns to see Rossi's shocked face.
"Jesus Aaron, what'd you do to her?" He teases playfully and Hotch shakes his head.
"Told her I loved her," He sighs out frustratedly, "But she said she would be here in the morning to clean out her things."
Rossi glances down at the desks. Hotch shakes his head, "She said she would be here."
"Maybe she overslept." Rossi tries.
"This late?" Hotch turns to him, "Something's not right. I can tell." Hotch pushes himself off the railing and walks down to the rest of the team in the middle of the bullpen. "Have any of you heard from Y/N?"
"No," Prentiss shakes her head, "I would expect you to be the person to have heard from her."
"She was supposed to come in and clear out her desk," Hotch looks over at Reid.
Reid's face falls, "Clear out her desk?"
"What's going on?" Morgan glances at Rossi as he comes down to join the team.
Hotch digs his hand into his pocket for his phone, dialing your number. After a few minutes it goes to voicemail, "She's not answering her phone."
"Wait, do we even have any real reason to believe something has happened to her?" JJ tries to calm a very quickly panicking Hotch down.
"Someone get Garcia to run a trace on her phone. Now." Hotch orders and Morgan only nods before bending down for the phone, dialing Garcia's number.
"She didn't call you last night?" Hotch looks at Reid.
"Me?" He swallows thickly and digs for his phone.
"You don't remember?"
"I had a few drinks and I don't normally drink," Reid's hands tremble as he looks through the phone, "No. Why would she call me?"
"You're her best friend... if something was wrong—" Hotch glances around at everyone.
"Hotch, I think we all know that if something was wrong, she would call you." Prentiss raises a brow at him.
"But I—"
"No matter what, she would call you," JJ chimes in again.
"You're her best friend, Hotch," Reid nods.
"I know something is wrong. She-" Hotch's hand is rubbing at his side and it's the first time he really takes note of it. You always tease him about it. "She wouldn't do this to me."
"Hotch," Garcia comes rushing towards him, "Her phone. It's here in the garage."
Hotch takes off at high speed, foregoing the elevator to rush down to the parking level. The team attempts to keep up with him. He digs into his pocket for his phone and dials your number and hears your phone ringing. He bends down and picks up the phone, looking over the shattered screen. He holds it up to the team who finally catches up with him, "Still think nothing's wrong?"
A/N
HEY Y'ALL! I'M BACK! I know this chapter was shorter than usual but the next chapter (aka probably the last chapter) will be extra long!
Thanks for being so patient with me <3
I love you all