Breathing Room
A.N.: Man, it feels good to be back! I can't believe I've let my little baby story go ignored for so long! I'm so sorry guys—I've been a serious slacker. So thanks to all of you that totally whipped my butt into gear and got me to finally update! Hopefully this chapter makes up for the absence.
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One breath at a time.
This was the mantra Brooke repeated to herself as she followed her uncle into the sports bar the "team" was convening at. She dug her fingernails into the fabric of her coat, flashing her uncle a smile she desperately wished she could feel when he glanced over his shoulder at her.
One breath at a time.
She knew the stares she was feeling on every inch of her skin were just in her head—there were no lingering visual evidence of her attack for people to fixate on. No bruises marred her pale face. No gashes bled across her arms.
So why did she feel like that was all they could really see?
One breath at a time.
They weaved through the crowd, dodging drink-laden trays and raucous sports fans enjoying the big screen football action.
Across the room, she could see the smiling faces of the BAU agents she'd met a week ago, and she forced her smile to widen when they called out a greeting.
Oh, God, I can't breathe…
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"Brooke, do you remember David Rossi?"
Brooke looked from her uncle to the older, distinguished agent that rose from his seat, a smile on his bearded face. She tilted her head to the side, smiling softly. She nodded. "Yeah, I think so," she said, reaching out to take his hand when he extended his own. "From the Bureau picnics, right? You were always manning the barbeque with that silly apron."
Rossi shook his head and laughed, exchanging an amused glance with Hotchner. "Quite a good memory," he said, shaking the young woman's hand. "I'm surprised you recalled the apron, since it's something that most of the picnic's occupants forced out of their minds." He smiled when she chuckled. "Though, I guess what with your fashion designing talent, a good eye comes in handy."
Brooke fought to keep her smile from faltering even the slightest inch, and she shrugged, nodding as she dropped her hand back to her side. She dropped her gaze to the floor while she tried to recollect herself, therefore missing the meaningful glance the two agents at her side exchanged during her distraction.
Rossi watched as Brooke seemed to fight an inner battle for the briefest of moments, before her smile was just as radiant as it was when she was five years old. He smiled, motioning with his arm for her to head to the small, slightly crowded table that housed the rest of their team.
Hotch met Rossi's eyes as Brooke passed, and he sighed softly, his head giving the faintest nod.
It's possible, he seemed to say, and he watched as his friend's mouth tightened at the gesture.
Suddenly, Hotch realized that maybe this wasn't just him being overprotective of his niece. This was the fact that, yes, something horrible had happened to her. This was the truth that it wasn't just a "bad feeling."
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After about an hour of random chitchat and various drinks, Brooke was shocked to find herself relaxing surrounded by her uncle and his colleagues.
"Break my heart, why don't you?"
Brooke smiled and shook her head as she met the incredulous gaze of Derek Morgan across the table. She shrugged her shoulders. "Sorry…I guess I'm just a basketball girl."
Morgan shook his head, his smile a flash of white against his dark face. "Come on, now, Miss Davis," he teased, cradling his beer bottle in his hand as he leaned his elbow against the table. "289 first downs, 5,297 total offensive yards, 2,498 total rushing yards, which makes them, as of last year, third in the league for rushing yards. This is your home-state pride we're talking about here!"
The brunette merely smiled and shrugged her shoulders again, causing the agent to look over imploringly at his boss.
Hotch chuckled, shaking his head. "It's really no good trying, Morgan. She didn't even have a football team at her high school."
"It's true," Brooke said when Morgan glanced over at her in shock. "Tree Hill is home to the Tree Hill Ravens, who just happened to win the state championship our senior year, I might add. And whose star player, a Mr. Nathan Scott, will one day be the leading point guard for some top-notch NBA team. So who needs football?"
Morgan rolled his eyes. "Good Lord, woman, there is no hope for you."
Brooke's smile faltered slightly amidst the laughter around the table. God, let's hope that's not true…
As the night wore on, Brooke found herself engaging in conversations with the FBI agents, and she was surprised to see just how much of a variety this team seemed to consist of. Every single agent seemed to be so radically different from the other, and yet their team seemed to meld in a way that was almost unbelievable. There was a camaraderie among them that was so familiar to her small group of friends back home. All molded from a different clay, but belonging together just the same.
She was almost content to just sit back and watch them interact with each other, but just when she had started to, she was immediately pulled back in, either by Garcia—who she had come to love for her spontaneity and kind heart—or her uncle, who, as he promised, was determined she have a good time.
She came to learn that Rossi was the newest to the team, even though he was the one with the most experience. She remembered the kind-eyed older man from her visits during the summer with her uncle. She remembered how he seemed to ooze authority, and now here he sat, content to just be another member of the team.
Prentiss and J.J. were the lead female agents on the team, but completely different in their mannerisms. Prentiss seemed to take charge and stand tall, while J.J. was content to somewhat sit in the background. She learned that the young blonde agent was who ultimately decided which cases the team would take on, and which ones were deemed less in need of immediate action.
Brooke found a new kind of respect for J.J. Jareau. Someone who had to pour over files filled with death and murder and grief; who had to read every grisly account and every family's tear filled plea for help, and then decide which case would be taken and which would be added to an ever-growing file—always worrying about whether she'd made the right choice….
Someone like J.J. deserved more than just the respect Brooke felt.
Morgan was a bit of a contradiction in her book. He was a "ladies' man," if she'd ever seen one, but it was obvious that he treasured his job above any of life's pleasures that came his way. He was headstrong, and confident, and the way he seemed to hover in protection around the people he surrounded himself with made her feel…safe, a description that nearly had her laughing. Derek Morgan was a good man, as true to that definition as anyone could possibly get.
Penelope Garcia….she really wasn't sure she could find a way to describe the techno-savvy woman. She felt a kind of kinship with Garcia, one that she was honestly a bit surprised to feel. When she'd first heard her uncle talk about Garcia, she had been shocked, to say the least. It was hard to imagine someone so upbeat and friendly as she was to be one who stared at horror on her computer screen every day. She was jovial and bright, never once seeming to show any wear-and-tear of the horrors of her job. But, Brooke knew, people could pretend. They could fool you. And she knew that even if Garcia bounced with energy, and surrounded herself with color and happiness, she did it only to keep the horror at bay. She was a woman who had made the decision to not let the horror rule her life. And for that, Brooke was envious.
Her uncle Aaron, unsurprisingly, was the no-nonsense head of the group, who even now, off the clock and in a relaxed environment, seemed to barely crack a smile or let a laugh slip past his lips. Years of horror and evil had hardened his once youthful face, and the shadows in his eyes seemed to have darkened since the last time she'd seen him. But even as he sipped his glass of beer, his lips upturned in a slight smirk at something Morgan was saying, she couldn't help but feel that he felt responsible for every person sitting at this table. He felt that it was his duty to lead his team in the right direction—to protect them at any cost. And the same went for her, for different reason, obviously.
Brooke let her gaze fall on the youngest member of the team, and she sat back in her seat slightly as she studied Dr. Spencer Reid.
Of all the members of the team, he was the one that fascinated her. She wasn't sure if it was his youth or almost constant awkwardness that riveted her attention so. He reminded her slightly of Mouth, while at the same time, he was completely different. He actually was a genius, as she'd learned in the few conversations he'd participated in. He could state random statistics just as easily as she could stitch a pattern. It was almost like he used his brilliance as a shield, kind of like she'd used her popularity in high school. It that was all they saw, then they would never truly know what was happening underneath…
And underneath the intelligence, Brooke was sure that Reid was much more than meets the eye. He was cute, a term which she had never really used before. He wasn't devastatingly handsome, like Morgan. But he was cute, almost adorable in his geekish way. He was comfortable with his group of co-workers—his friends…but not so with her, she was realizing.
He could never really meet her eyes for a long amount of time. Just as quickly as they would look at each other at the same time, he would drop his eyes away, either to his drink or to one of the other patrons of the table.
A few times, she'd felt his gaze on her, but instead of shifting uncomfortably as she did with her uncle, she just…was. It didn't bother her, the way Reid stared. And she really didn't understand why.
"He's gorgeous, isn't he?"
Brooke jumped slightly when she heard Garcia whisper softly next to her ear, and she pulled her gaze away from Reid to look at her. Garcia's ruby-red lips were upturned in a smile, and she turned to follow the woman's gaze. She smiled when she saw that the object of her attention was none other than Derek Morgan, who stood just behind Reid smiling flirtatiously at a passing waitress. "You and Morgan, huh?" she asked, taking a sip of her drink.
Garcia laughed, shaking her head. "Oh, no, sweetie," she said, smiling. "It is strictly look-but-do-not-touch with my Coco Prince. But I will admit that I do LOVE to look."
Brooke laughed, shaking her head, and turned her head once more. Her eyes met the inquisitive eyes of Spencer Reid, and she watched as an array of expressions seemed to cross his youthful face in the span of a few seconds. She smiled, nodding her head at him from across the table, and after a moment he smiled—a bit uncertainly—back at her, before turning his attention to a question Rossi posed his way.
Brooke pursed her lips, taking another sip of her drink.
Why did Spencer Reid draw her attention as much as he did?
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"Is everyone sure they don't need a cab?"
Brooke chuckled softly at the fatherly tone of her uncle's voice as she followed everyone outside, her arm linked with Garcia's as they stepped out of the door. Leave it to Uncle Aaron to be the responsible one, even with a group of trained agents.
She smiled as Garcia squeezed her arm in farewell, agreeing to join her for lunch later in the week. She wrapped her arms around herself as she watched the woman nearly skip to her uncle and Morgan, who stood against the curb of the nearly deserted street. She smiled at the way the two men seemed to grin at her appearance, and she was suddenly thankful that Penelope Garcia was around to make her uncle smile like that.
She heard a shuffling to her side, and she looked over to see Reid bidding farewell to J.J., nodding his head as his steps slowed until he stood at her side. He smiled at her, and she couldn't help but return it. "Do all of your FBI get-togethers get as crazy as this?" she asked, nodding her head towards a slightly staggering Prentiss who was being helped into the passenger seat of Rossi's car.
Reid laughed, shrugging his shoulders, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his worn jacket. "Hardly," he said. "We rarely have time for get-togethers like this. I guess we just try to enhance every second we have."
Brooke nodded. "That's a good philosophy to have."
She watched as Reid nodding, his Adam's apple seeming to bob in his throat. "Did you enjoy yourself?" he asked.
She nodded, smiling. "Yeah…it's been awhile since I just…hung out with people. No talking business or crisis's or personal problems. I have to admit it was nice. You guys are some team," she said, motioning to the other agents. "You guys works well, I can tell."
"We try."
She laughed, and was pleasantly surprised when she was glad he did too.
But not as surprised as she was at what she said next.
"We'll have to do this again sometime…you know, when there's not so many roaring sports fans cutting into every conversation."
She watched as Reid's brow furrowed slightly, as if he was just as surprised at her words as she was. She was just about to open her mouth and defuse the situation when he cleared his throat.
"Sure," he said softly, nodding his head. He raised his eyes to meet hers. "Yeah, that'd be nice."
Brooke smiled, her gaze dropping the damp pavement as she nodded her head. "Good," she said softly, shifting slightly on her feet. "Well, you know where to find me."
He nodded, and threw her a shy smile before waving quickly, turning on his heel and heading towards his car.
She watched him walk away, shaking her head at the events that had seemed to unfold in just a few short minutes. Had she asked him out? Is that what happened? And if she did, had he said yes?
She was honestly completely clueless.
Since when did any guy make Brooke Davis clueless?
She was still asking herself that same question as she rode in the car next to her uncle, her eyes watching the lights of D.C. as they flashed past the window.
"Did you have a good time?" Hotch asked, his eyes firmly set on the road.
Brooke looked over at him, nodding. "I did," she said softly, smiling. "Thanks for making me come. I like your team."
"I think the team likes you as well," he replied, smiling slightly. "I think you're the first person to ever render Morgan completely speechless. He'd never heard of such a thing as a football-less high school, let alone a former cheerleader who didn't follow football."
She laughed softly, turning her head and leaning it against the window.
Hotch watched her from the corner of his eyes. She was quiet. Subdued. And it worried him.
"Brooke…if something was wrong, you'd tell me, wouldn't you?"
He watched as she jerked in her seat, her hazel eyes whipping around to stare at him. "What do you mean?"
She knew exactly what he meant. "I mean, if something had happened or if there was something that was bothering you…you feel that you could come to me with it, don't you?" He watched as her eyes searched his face for a long second before she turned her head to stare out the window again. "Because you could. With anything. You know that, don't you?"
He saw her lips quiver slightly in the passing streetlight, and he caught the way her eyes closed tightly when she turned her head further away from him. And then she was smiling softly at him, her head nodding. "Yeah, I know," she said softly, turning to look at him. "I'm fine, Uncle Aaron. Really."
Hotch bit back his response, wanting to shout at her that, no, she wasn't fine. She was hurting, he could see it. Why couldn't she just tell him? He couldn't fix it if she didn't let him know what needed fixing.
But he didn't say any of that. He just smiled at her, nodding, and turned his attention back to the road.
She wasn't going to tell him.
He supposed he'd just have to find out on his own.
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Yay, for an update! Hopefully this chapter was kick-ass enough to make up for the long absence. I swear that it will not happen again. My laptop is getting replaced this week, and I will be back to updating on a regular basis! In the meantime, I hope this was to your liking!
Coming up in the next chapter, Hotch does a little digging, and Brooke and Reid—GASP—go on a "date." But…does it end the way we all hope it will?
Let me know what you guys think!