Disclaimer – I own nothing related to Criminal Minds... what a shame!
So it's that time of the year when I begin writing again for University and with essays come writer's block and fanfiction.
I'm clearing some space off of my laptop, this is just a one-shot and by no means is the finest piece of work ever wrote, I just doodle when I'm stuck on real life work and this is the outcome.
For anyone reading 'A shoulder to cry on,' its' wrote up just not edited but hopefully I'll be updating soon. For anyone reading 'Rebuilding bridges,' I'll get round to it eventually.
Let me know what you think!
...
Hotch stepped off the elevator begrudgingly.
The Unit Chief had spent the better half of the afternoon in yet another budget meeting while his team had concentrated on finishing paperwork in hope for a work free weekend.
Walking through the dimly lit and empty bullpen, the profiler glanced at the clock on the wall, musing that he'd already missed tucking his son in bed for the night but if he left now he might catch the end of the football highlights while he finished his own paperwork.
With a plan in mind, Hotch pushed his office door open and strode towards his desk, dumping the thick budget report on top of his already messy desk.
Moving around to his seat, as he flicked on the desk lamp to check his call sheet, the forty-something agent jumped at the figure sitting on the couch at the far end of the room. "JJ."
"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." She replied quietly. Her feet were wrapped underneath her body while her head lay on her elbow that rested on the arm of the couch.
Hotch frowned at her presence. "Why are you sitting in the dark?"
The blonde shrugged unsurely, causing him to continue. "Were you waiting for me?"
"I..." JJ moved her legs so her feet were firmly on the floor.
The Unit Chief moved back around to the front of the desk to drag one of the guest chairs to the back of the room where JJ was sitting. "You need to talk?"
"I don't know." JJ answered truthfully.
Hotch tilted his head at her distant gaze. "JJ I'm always here if you need to talk."
JJ nodded, keeping her eyes off of his concerned expression. "I was reading a case file earlier on. Five men were found in a deep grave near Charleston. They were naked and their hands were tied behind their backs."
"Okay." Hotch stated quietly, hoping she would continue without further prompting.
JJ leaned back on the couch. "The file was sent in by one of the victim's daughters. She attached a letter begging for help."
"The letter got to you?" The senior profiler asked slowly.
The blonde flinched at his question before she shook her head. "No, that's the problem."
"I'm not really following, JJ." Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose while he leaned forwards in his seat.
JJ sighed deeply. "I've been back eight months now."
"I know."
"I've been back eight months now, as a profiler." JJ expanded quietly.
"You're not enjoying your new role on the team?" Hotch stilled the younger woman's wandering eyes.
JJ bit her lower lip not being able to move her darkish blue eyes from his confused hazels. "I never wanted to be a profiler."
"It was the only way I could get you back with communications clearing house." Hotch explained as a matter of fact.
"I know," JJ straightened in her seat and ran her hand though her hair. "I'm sorry Hotch, it's late and I'm not really making any sense. You should be getting home."
As the former liaison began to move, Hotch reached out grabbing her wrist, in order to get the blonde to sit still. "JJ, talk to me."
"I told you and Rossi I wanted to come back. Dave suggested taking the classes and I turned him down. Then we talked..."
Hotch nodded in remembrance. "We talked about you being able to keep some communications duties, maybe making them a speciality."
"We talked about Emily coming back too." JJ added reminiscently.
Hotch frowned at the sorrow in her voice. "Now she's home too."
"The BAU doesn't feel the same way it used to." JJ admitted quietly.
Stretched slightly, feeling the long hours slowly catching up with him. "Things have changed around here, I know that, but I thought you were glad to be back?"
"I am glad, I missed this place, I just think... I might have changed more." JJ explained shyly.
"JJ, you've been through a lot over the last two years, you're going to change." Hotch comforted warmly.
The blonde squeezed her eyes closed tightly for a few silent moments before reopening to find her supervisor staring at her deep in concern. "I'm a cold person."
"You're one of the warmest people I know JJ." Hotch moved his hand from around her thin wrist to her hand.
JJ shook her head quickly. "I don't feel it anymore."
The senior profiler cocked his head to the side. "You're feeling this way because you didn't connect to a family member of a victim. We don't always get attached and honestly, it's usually better that way."
"Hotch, I don't feel anything anymore. I feel numb. All of the time." JJ admitted quietly.
Hotch bit his lower lip seeing his friends anguish. "Let's get out of here. I'll take you home, you can hold Henry and in no time you'll feel better."
"It's Will's night with Henry." JJ shrugged dejectedly.
Hotch's eyes widened in shock at her quiet revelation of her separation. "Oh, okay then. Are you hungry?"
"I could eat." JJ sighed tiredly.
Hotch smiled warmly. "Get your things. I'll meet you at the elevator and we'll get some dinner and talk some more."
"You don't have to do this Hotch. My mini breakdown is just down to stress and tiredness." JJ stated while stifling a yawn.
Hotch stood, a smirk on his lips increased with amusement. "What harm can come from dinner and talking?"
"Will there be alcohol?" JJ asked dryly.
Hotch rolled his eyes briefly. "Well I'm driving so sure."
JJ chuckled, accepting his hand to help her off of the couch. "I'll see you at the elevators."
...
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