Good hunting.
My version of writing out Aaron Hotchner from the show.
A/N: Dear readers, just a little warning before you decide to read this text (or not).
I'm not a native writer. My English skills allow me to communicate quite bearable, but writing in English is still a big problem for me (and for my readers, I suspect...)
There were two options. The first one, to write in Russian, my native language, and then offer you to use any online translator. But it seemed to me not very polite and, in addition, automatic translations so ugly.
So, the second option won - make an effort to wake up the well-and-long-sleeping second language center in my brain and publish this story in English.
Unfortunately, I do not have any beta in this fandom. A couple of requests that I made were not answered, alas.
So here is the result. I apologize in advance for horrible amount of grammar mistakes and for my limited vocabulary. If possible, be kind and don't judge me harshly. I'm trying really hard.
Many thanks for your patience, your feedback, and your support.
And if there is someone who wants to be my beta for a while and help me to correct mistakes here and in the second chapter (this is two-, maybe three-part story), I would be sincerely grateful.
Thank you.
Disclaimer: Not mine, not now, not ever.
Chapter One.
About twelve years ago.
"Sean, you've always wanted to be a lawyer. Just like dad, just like me!" standing in his office, Aaron Hotchner shook his head, stunned.
"And look what it got dad, huh?" the youngest of Hotchner brothers said; his voice was quiet, almost sorrowful, "Heart attack. At 47…"
"I think I'm doing ok," Aaron replied in a slightly self-confident tone, but looking hurriedly away. His brother was not a profiler. And yet, he did not want to take a chance on Sean saw the pain in his eyes. Or fear.
Nowadays.
He had always known that it was only a matter of time before this quietly ticking time bomb in his chest finally would reveal itself.
When he began to notice the first signs of an approaching catastrophe, he was not really surprised. Disappointed, upset, frustrated, even terrified… but not surprised. There always been his father and his heart attack at 47 in the background. No reason for being surprised or getting any false hopes.
His father ...
After leaving his parents' home one day, Aaron vowed to himself that his father would never hurt him again. That he would never affect Aaron's life.
Never say never...
All these years, on some level, Aaron knew that his father had not had the last word. He always had the last word... And three decades later, even from the grave, the Elder Hotchner got his eldest son.
Aaron was 40 when it all started. Well, to be honest, he hoped to hold out much longer.
Initially, it was no more than only a vague tightness in his chest after an intense workout or race. The uncertain tingling under the left shoulder blade and tiny heartburn after another sleepless night or too much coffee. And the annoying bothersome feeling of lack of air, as if he had all the time been in a stuffy room with the window closed. Nothing really serious. Just the first tiny cracks in his health, which may not necessarily grow to devastating proportions, he hoped.
He refused to give up. He just wasn't built to quit. He was hanging on.
He really put some effort into staying healthy. He gave up coffee. Strong alcohol. Emphasized on cardio-training to improve blood flow and to strengthen the muscles in his weakening heart.
Aaron was so damn proud of himself when he has overcome this fatal "47". For some time, he allowed himself to live with a forlorn hope that he had coped, he had won, that he managed to cheat fate (and his father) and avoid the inevitable.
So typical. So naive.
There was something that he never had been able to change, never refuse - his job, his lifestyle. And going along with this all stresses, sleep deprivations, being worn out mentally and physically, being constantly under a cruel pressure from all sides.
And the guilt... The consuming feel of guilt to the victims that they did not manage to save. Then to his ruined family. Then to his son who had lost his mother due to his fault. To Hayley's father and sister. To his team members, who obviously were worrying about him but were forced to respect the borders and walls that their Unit Chief built all around himself.
He understood quite clearly that nothing of this would help his heart to remain stable. But he did not complain. This is something that goes with the position of leadership, he believed. So he just went on stoically, squaring his shoulders, trying to look confident and capable, not letting himself dwell on how tired and increasingly weak he felt. SSA Aaron Hotchner hated showing weakness of any sort.
But gradually the pressure in his chest began to resemble itself more often and soon it became harder to push away. The feeling of lack of air grew to a constant discomfort. The increasingly frequent bouts of heartburn almost completely deprived him of any appetite. He was used to see a dark circles and bags under his eyes on his overall tired, grim, wan, haggard face in the mirror.
He hoped that his team is also gradually would be used to it and there would be no more these concerned and worried glances, which he caught on himself periodically.
But sometimes, in those rare moments when knew he'd be alone and could wallow in the indulgence of self-pity, huddling in on himself and sobbing his distress, his anger at the unfairness, the injustice of it all, he so desperately wanted there was someone else who would share with him the knowledge of his disease.
But who could it be?
Haley? He too carefully protected her from any problems when they were married. Then ... they were no longer married. Then ... she was gone.
His colleagues? No, never. They all have too much on their shoulders to be burdened of any additional problems.
Sean? He did not even know where his brother is. Perhaps in prison.
Doctors? Not with his job. One record in his personal file about his heart disease and the ruthless bureaucratic machine will be launched. At the best, there would be only a cabinet work for him then. Or early retirement, more likely. Retired at 45. What would he do with himself? Thrown to the roadside. Miserable and useless trash. Pathetic. "Not fit for duty". Sometimes, in his nightmares, he saw this large blood-red stamp, crossed out his photo on the title page of his personal file. Intersected, crossed out all his life. No, no doctors. Not voluntarily...
He was on the verge of his secret discovered every time when he was injured or sick and had to visit a hospital, like it was a couple of years ago, when he was urgently hospitalized with the internal bleeding from an old scar. Then there was a lot of anxious hovering of his doctors around him.
Aaron succeeded in convince them that he just need to rest and recover and he would be fine. In the end, it was decided that the problems were provoked cardiac arrest during surgery. He was discharged with a strong recommendation to make an appointment to see a cardiologist for further observation. He promised. So as he vowed no more late nights and no more taking on stressful cases. It was ridiculous. The doctor couldn't be serious, demanding this from the active agent.
Things went downhill much faster from that surgery. Obviously, his heart didn't forgive those few minutes of being lifeless and shocked several times back to live.
Yes, it was only a matter of time...
And yet, even while living under this sword of Damocles over the years, he was not ready when it finally happened.
(tbc)
A/N: Feedback is not a necessity in life but it sure is appreciated.