𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓭 ➵ 𝓼. 𝓻𝓮𝓲𝓭

Chapter 3: Miss me?

AFTER YOUR conclusion in the briefing room, Hotch had announced the team had been invited in to help catch your father before he committed another crime - and you were praying that you could be successful.

You're sitting in one of the aeroplane seats on the jet as you gaze out the window, despite the time. It has just turned 2am, but the hours are passing you by and sleep isn't coming easy to you. After many failed sleep attempts, you decide to just stay up and do some work, it's better than nothing.

Reid had been sat next to you when he had fallen asleep, and his head had rested on your shoulder ever since. You hadn't dared to move him, you knew that they all needed sleep, so you didn't so much as move an inch. His breath brushed against your collarbone as you worked, and it was somewhat calming just to feel it.

The jet is silent apart from the teams breathing as they sleep, and you think that you are the only one awake until a voice startles you.

"Y/n."

You turn your head abruptly as Hotch sits down across from you, brushing out a crease in his suit as he does. He shows a very small and hardly noticeable sympathetic smile as you turn your head back to the window, admiring the stars and nighttime darkness.

"I know you blame yourself, Y/n."

You furrow your brows at his statement as you turn back to him, nervously picking at your fingers once more. You try not to shift too much as to not wake Reid, showing him a small glance before looking back at Hotch.

You know he's waiting for you to speak, he knows that you will. You take one small look at Reid as you lower your head and stare at your lap.

"Everyday of my life I want to go to the victims family and knock on their doors, get the chance to individually apologise. One day I thought to myself...why? I wasn't the one holding the gun and pulling the trigger, yet I still seem to be the one at fault. I ask myself that everyday - is it my fault? Shouldn't I have seen the signs in him, prevented the unspeakable horrors he did?"

Hotch watches you carefully, taking in your body language to learn what to say.

"It's in no way your fault, Y/n. Please know that."

"I've tried telling myself that..." you trail, "I just can't seem to believe myself."

"Do you trust me?" He asks, his eyes trained on your movements.

"I let you shoot me in the leg on two separate occasions," you reminisce, "Of course I trust you."

He laughs softly as he remembers the memories, not at your pain, but at the fact you're able to joke about it now. The first time it happened, you were trying to distract a child abductee who was an empath, it was too hard for him to ignore your pain and had wanted to help you whilst Hotch had arrested him.

The second time was when you had both headed to arrest a serial killer, yet he had managed to get you in his grasp and hold a gun to your temple. Hotch had shot you in the leg to distract him, reminding you of Speed. You had made a reference to the film, yet you had never seen Reid look more confused.

"Then if you trust me, believe me when I say it's not your fault." He concludes and stands up, taking a look at the sleeping Reid beside you, "And get some sleep."

You smile at him as he walks away and to the other side of the jet and sits down, closing his eyes and quietly falling asleep.

You don't believe you'll be able to, but you try your best to get comfortable. Reid shifts beside you, his head nuzzling further in the nook of your neck. You carefully place your head atop of his, using his soft hair as a pillow.