HOTCH'S HEREDITY
(I don't know when Hotch's birthday are, or how old he is, so just go with it, please…)
Hotch's head hurt. He lay in his bed, replaying the events of the previous day—his fortieth birthday--and his part in them. He owed her an apology. He shouldn't have acted that way. He wasn't entirely sure of why he had. Or why he'd acted that way with her. Though a part of him certainly suspected the cause.
Whenever she'd gotten near him, he'd wanted nothing more than to devour her. And he didn't just mean sexually. He'd found himself wondering how she'd taste. Wondering if she'd fight him.
It had been disconcerting for the supervisor. That was for sure. It was bad enough it had to happen to him—and he'd always known the potential existed for him to have inherited the condition, but to have it suddenly spring forth after forty years of being dormant, had floored him.
Yes, he'd known his father had the condition, but the man had died before Aaron had reached adulthood, and they'd certainly never talked about the odds of it happening. Hotch hadn't even been certain he believed in it all.
Now he did.
What he didn't know was what part she seemed to play. He'd not had those urges with anyone else on his team, even JJ or Garcia. Just Emily. He'd watched her coming down the stairs, yesterday morning. Her hair had been curled, damp and unruly. Her eyes had been large and sensual, drawing him in from over fifteen feet away. Her body had looked so incredibly delicate—which he knew to be a lie. She was thin, but she was strong.
Just as strong as the pulse he could hear beating beneath all that smooth creamy white skin.
When the fangs had erupted in his mouth they'd nearly pierced the skin of his bottom lip. He'd barely been able to suppress the startled curse that had nearly escaped. But Hotch wasn't stupid, he'd known exactly what it meant.
He'd become what he'd always feared. He was just like his father. The XY DNA that was the hallmark of a human male was different in him, and now he knew it. He had the XV genome. It was rare, and only those of his kind knew of it. Only males could carry it. He knew the truth.
Hotch was a vampire.
He'd excused himself, going out to the vehicles to wait for the team. He'd sat there behind the wheel pondering what it meant for him, the changes in his life. In Jack's. The boy would have to be told someday.
He wondered why it was just thoughts of Emily's blood that got him hot in the gut, and not the rest of the team. It was just his luck that she was one of the first out of the B&B, she'd approached him and he'd pulled back instinctively.
He'd fought the urges screaming at him to grab her, bare her neck and sink deep. To drain her dry. Every last drop. Then make her turn to him, and reverse the process. Make her take his blood into her body. To feel her lips pressed against his flesh. Tasting him, tasting her. He so very much wanted to taste her.
If what he remembered was true, that's exactly what he had done just hours earlier. Hotch stood, pulled his shirt over his head. There the proof was, right over his heart.
The bruising was very distinctive, he'd seen enough bite marks in his career to identify one when he saw it. He'd held her to him, and forced her to feed from him, after he'd fed from her. He sank down on the mattress, head falling to rest in his hands as he replayed what had happened…
He'd heard the screams of one of the women and even the startling change in his life hadn't kept him from instinctively running to the rescue. But he hadn't found JJ or Pen in the hallway hurt, instead she'd stood, innocent and vulnerable, in front of JJ's door. her legs had shown white in the macabre moonlight, as had her shoulders and neck. All that skin he couldn't wait to run his teeth over.
He'd watched her for a moment before stepping closer. It was like a compulsion for him, he couldn't stop. At that point he had to have her, or he'd simply slaughter every damned human in the hotel—including those he cared about. He had to feed, and feed soon. And the only one he wanted was Emily.
He'd warred with himself, of course. Was it fair to her, sacrificing her for the good of the rest of the B&B's guests? No, of course it wasn't. But what else could he do? Hurt JJ, and her unborn baby? Reid with his scrawny body and infinite trust in Hotch?
He doubted he'd have been able to subdue Morgan, or even Dave. Penelope never even entered his mind.
No, he was focused completely on Emily. And he'd do whatever he had to in order to get her.