The Tell
Disclaimer: I wish, but no, don't own the characters/show.
Author's Note: And…I'm right back to writing one-shots. xD But fear not, a multi-chapter story just might be in your futures! *cheeky grin* Also, I'm sure I'm not the only one to have noticed this about Hotch and included it in fanfic, this is just my take on it. Thanks and happy reading!
He had a tell.
It wasn't much, but for a man of few words it spoke volumes. His hand, on average his left since it was his dominant, would unconsciously rise to rub at his temple or forehead, depending on the level of stress or pain. Much like he was doing now.
"Hotch?" she calls from his doorway, watching him look up in surprise.
"Prentiss. Thought you'd left for the night already."
"Could say the same of you. Figured you'd be home with Jack?"
"Sleepover. Big birthday event, been planned for a while. Thought I'd use the time to catch up on some paperwork."
A sleepover, an entire night away from his dad and aunt, and though both are just a phone call away, it's a big step for any kid to sleep at a friend's house, to deal with the new night noises and shadows of another's room. Especially a kid with Jack's life experiences.
And though he didn't show it, Hotch was probably a nervous wreck, hands just itching to call and check in on his son. Hence the tell. His hand had even moved from his temple to his forehead in the short time she'd been talking with him. Hotch had the most impressive poker face out of them all, but that hand betrayed him.
Before she can think it through entirely she moves quickly from the door to his desk, and before he can utter a word she is standing behind his desk chair, her hand removing his as its mate joins on other side, massaging his temples gently.
To be honest, she's as shocked as he is by what she's doing, but as she feels him relax under her touch and not pull away she can't stop. Somehow, she just knew they both needed this.
"He'll be fine, Hotch. He's strong, like his dad."
"That's what I'm afraid of."
She had to smile at that, again thinking with something other than her brain as her hands left his head and rotated his chair so he faced her.
"Do you know why he's at that sleepover tonight? Because he knows that if he needs you he can call and you'll be there in a heartbeat. Because you, Aaron Hotchner, are that boy's hero. And because his hero is strong he wants to be strong too, he wants to show everybody he's okay, that he's not afraid."
He cracks a small smile at her words.
"You sound like you know this from experience."
A blush flushes her cheeks, and she breaks eye contact, stepping back.
"Let's just say Jack and I have similar heroes."
His eyebrows raise, and Hotch opens his mouth to respond, but she quickly interrupts.
"Good night, Hotch."
He lets her go, but she's not unaware that his eyes follow her for as far as they can from where he sits.
It's good to be home, she smiles.