𝗗𝗢𝗡'𝗧 𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗚𝗘𝗧 𝗠𝗘 | 𝘼. 𝙃𝙊𝙏𝘾𝙃𝙉𝙀𝙍

eight

To your surprise, everyone else was surprised to see you back on the job so early. No, it did feel good to be back, but the aching in your side was close to unbearable, yet still seemed easy enough to manage, so you strode towards the coffee machine and poured a cup of the black fluid.

'How are you doing then?' Hotch asked- was it genuine or not? You couldn't tell.

'Oh me? Is that me you're talking to?' humorously you returned which made him grin ever so slightly- it was absolutely his signature smile for when he let little parts of his true colours shine, some of which he only painted around Jack, some he only let free around you; this was his professional maximum of happiness, but you simply wished he would show more. Intertwining your routines like vines, you both made coffee and passed each other sugar and whatnot, all the while realising how in sync you could really be.

Turning away from him, you took out one of the many orange bottles inside of your briefcase and whipped out a buffet of pills and other remedies, some for your side, some for other reasons. The chief hovered past you without looking directly, but as he turned to the side, ever so discreetly, he navigated his eyes to what you were doing. Genuinely, he knew most of the meds were for your waist, but oh god, he didn't want to begin thinking what else you had in your hand. What it was doing to you inside. Because he was tremendously respectful and vigilant, he remained quiet about the issue until he felt it was right. For now, the pills got you through the day and that had to be fine whether he liked it or not.

JJ hollered to all of you that you should meet for briefing. Hotch brought his coffee and placed it on top of his files, leaving a small ring on the cover. He muttered something to himself and you attempted to hide a smirk, making him look up with a stern brow. Not once did Spencer break his gaze from JJ, watching her every move on the centre stage.

'Okay, we have several murders in Boston; I hope none of you have had a large breakfast today,' she braced herself as well as the rest of the team. Images of utterly mutilated bodies appeared in 1080p on the screen, reflexing Garcia to avert her eyes- everyone else squinted at the sight.

'Well at least we can't smell them yet,' Spencer quoted causing everybody to look over. He let out a small, 'Sorry,' and the team moved on.

'Do we know how the victims are related?' Rossi questioned, he seemed rather intrigued as there wasn't a particularly clear pattern.

'No,' JJ said with honesty, 'That's what we need to find out,' stacking their files and chugging coffee, the team whipped together their items until hearing the four words from Hotchner's mouth.

'Wheels up in thirty,' and they all dispersed. From Virginia to Boston it was merely an hour, so your boss ordered that you could all catch up on some sleep, seeing as the last few weeks had been rough. You. Apart from you, everyone was asleep. Reid was propped on a small pillow with his shoes resting against Morgan's thighs- who had his headphones on; JJ and Prentiss both had blindfolds down, blocking out the light around them, despite the small lamp above being off. Rossi was resting upon his own arm and fluttered his eyes open to see whereabouts you were on the flight, quickly shutting them again when he realised, and Hotch, well he was thinking. Anyone could see that the man was processing everything on behalf of his team- where he was going to send each of them, what the killer could do next, who even was the killer, you could see that it was all whirring around like cogs in his mind.

Being the only other one awake, you got up and crept around the pairs of feet trailed into the aisle and sat opposite him. One finger was resting upon his lips, the rest supporting his head as he looked to the side. It felt as though it should've been dark outside, but in fact it was around midday; with this job, you slept whenever, wherever. About to ask if he was alright, you were startled when he spoke before you.

'I reckon he's going to kill again- tonight,' he reassured his judgement with a certain demeanour about him.

'You know you're allowed to sleep too,' you stopped him, reminding him he wasn't just made to lead the team. He was human too.

'I know that. I just seem to find myself thinking on behalf of the rest of them,' he doubted himself, glancing behind him to where they were all sleeping around each other; the restless seem to gather at one end of the jet, the tired at the other, 'What are you taking?' he looked directly at you.

'What do you mean?' you answered his question, wanting to jump out of the plane there and then.

'The pills,' he said, 'That combination can't be good for you,' and he sounded like he knew it.

'Some take the pain away from me being stupid, others get me through the day. It works, I don't expect you to understand,' you finished the discussion but made him look belittled. He didn't say a word, but only looked at you.

'Go to sleep, I'll wake you up when we're landing,' you reassured.

'What about you?' he questioned back, looking as if he wasn't ready to give in.

'I'll be fine. I wasn't the one who slept in a hospital chair or on the couch,' you argued back, remembering he joined you in bed, but that wasn't the important thing right now, 'Sleep,' you said, and he made himself comfortable.

To say the least, the Boston mission wasn't a successful one. Raging on a high of adrenaline, psychotics, and murder, he chose the option of suicide by cop- it was you he charged at making Hotch and Reid fire bullets into him as he ran, some blood marking your face. Silently, you wiped it away and walked out of the house and away from the crime scene. On the bonnet of the SUV, you placed your vest, turning away without a word. Reid came out of the house too, shying away his gun and leaning forward to see in which direction you had gone.

'Let her go, kid,' Rossi called, and Reid went back in the house's direction as the snow started to fall.

               Cold- it was cold. Adapting to this, your shoulders were hunched slightly with your hands firmly in your pockets as you paced along a row of restaurants, seeing the normal lives of so many people having dinner in the windows, you wondered what it was like. It was nearing 8pm, therefore you had been strolling for no longer than an hour when the familiar black SUV parked up in front of you, a tall figure getting out of the driver's side.

'It's freezing,' he beckoned implicitly, trying to get you to go back to the hotel with him.

'There are things that bother me more,' you replied.

'Beck. It's time to go,' Hotchner raised his voice and stance slightly.

'Go?' you questioned- pausing, 'Go where, Hotch? Back home? Go home to an apartment I don't feel safe in, a city that seems to know my whole life's story and a boss that...' you stopped.

'A boss that what? What do I do?' he retaliated, a little defence in his tone.

'A boss that cares too much about me,' and there was silence.

'Let's go,' he said, seriously. He walked back around and got into the car, leaving you gathering snowflakes in your hair. Only the sound of your brogues hitting the floor could be heard as you switched from one foot to the other; you looked up at the building behind you before getting into the car with him- it was warm and filled with his scent.

A half hour into the journey home felt like forever, yes, you were sat opposite him and yes, he was still thinking actively. This time it was only Morgan, Reid and JJ who were resting- after all, it was a long day. This journey was altered, he didn't speak to you, look at you or even fall asleep.

Did he even blink? Probably not, but your presence, you thought, must've made him uncomfortable. This time, you got up and made a coffee, taking as long as humanely possible. As your back was turned when you rose from your seat, Hotch immediately broke his trance and followed your body, just making sure you were safe. Where could you go on a plane? Nowhere, but this was exactly what you meant. He cared too much.

Grabbing bags and any other hand luggage, everyone was mixing to get their things. Reid, being a little taller and stretchier, handed you your briefcase as you clutched his, wondering why on earth it was so heavy. Alas, it was simply you, Reid and Hotch left to exit the plane. Hotch glanced at you before picking up his belongings. You began to leave; unaware he had started talking.

'Reid. Just stay for a minute,' he nodded, and Reid did not get off the plane.