UchiSays: Long author note this time. Prepare yourself. First, sorry for the delay. I really did have the chapter written and ready to be posted MOnday, but I ended up stuck in a car for thirteen hours and the only internet access I had was 5 minutes in a McDonald's parking lot. Then yesterday the weather wasn't conducive for walking to libraries with laptops. Second:

"One more thing, this isn't terribly important now, but it's going so show up later and I don't want to catch anyone off guard with it because I totally mentioned it in chapter one, but there is a Hotch/Reid warning on this story. Please keep that in mind, I don't want anyone freaking out and/or flaming because "omg, I thought this was a MoReid story, where the hell did this Hotch/Reid come from you never said anything about this I hate you, go die." Because, if that happens, I'm just going to laugh."

That was part of the author note I posted on chapter 7. So, all of you flipping your shit and acting offended by last chapter is being laughed at right now. Because I didn't just pull that chapter out of my ass, I've been planning it from the beginning. Overall, there was an amazingly positive response to the Hotch/Reid scene and some really great reviews. You people are wonderful. There were a few folk who go they're panties in a bunch and said I made them hate the story or they weren't going to read it anymore, but whatever. Even some of you who didn't like the chapter handled it maturely and with a fair amount of grace, so I'm not laughing at y'all. I'm laughing at the immature asswipes.

Third, prepare for another long break between chapters after this, because I'm taking some time to focus on my other projects while trying to find my footing again with this story. I don't know when I'll next update, but I can promise it won't be soon.

Fourth and finally, this chapter is un-beta'd, but I did read through it myself a couple of times. Corollary (is that the word I'm looking for?) to that, how come you people haven't mentioned how inconsistent I am with the tense of this fic? At this point, I'm not sure if this was meant to be present of past tense, because I switched between the two three times in this chapter alone. Am I always like that? I usually don't read my own work, so I wouldn't know. If I do that, I am so sorry and you people have the patience of saints for dealing with it. That being said, I did rewrite sections of this chapter so the majority of it should be in past tense and I'll try to be more consistent in the future.

Also, I may have cried a bit while writing this chapter, so buckle in.

Chapter Fourteen: Regrets

When Spencer next opened his eyes, the muted light of approaching dawn was streaming through an open window. It wasn't yet sunrise, but it wasn't far off. There was only a barest trace of the musky scent of sex in the room, because a gentle breeze was slowly carrying it out. The storm clouds and rain of the previous night were nowhere to be seen. Spencer was alone on the bed, but the sound of the shower running told him where he would find Hotch if he was inclined to look.

He was not inclined to look. Spencer wasn't even inclined to linger around this room where everywhere he looked, he was reminded of the fact that he had screwed up. He had really screwed up.

Spencer got out of the bed and quickly looked around for his clothes. They had been discarded hurriedly the night before, and there was a little trouble tracking everything down, but Spencer was determined to be out of the room before Hotch got out of the shower. He finally found his sweater vest tucked in a cranny between the minibar and television stand. Wearing only his pants and his incorrectly buttoned shirt, and clutching the rest of his things tightly in his arms as if afraid they would disappear, Spencer quickly departed the room.

Out in the hall, he froze. What the hell had he been thinking? How the hell could he have slept with Hotch? What the hell was he supposed to do now?

He needed a shower, but he was almost afraid to go back to the room he shared with Derek. But there was no way he could go back into Hotch's room. That left Rossi or the girls. Not Rossi. That man was too perceptive. He would probably read Spencer's mistake before he even got the chance to say why he was there.

J.J. and Emily were just as perceptive as Rossi, but they probably had hangovers from the night before. They would be too busy hiding from light to notice the things Spencer couldn't hide. That settled it. He went down the hall and knocked softly on the girls' room. There was loud groaning and protests from the other side of the door. Spencer knocked again. A crashing sound and some cursing later, and Emily opened the door, glaring drowsily at him.

"May I use your shower?"

"I hate you," Emily stated, before turning and throwing herself back into the bed she had vacated. She left the door open, so Spencer took it as a sign that he was in fact allowed to use the shower. Spencer moved quickly and quietly, closing himself up in the bathroom without rousing either woman again.

Turning his back to the large mirror that took up one wall of the bathroom, Spencer stripped off his hastily put on clothes and turned on the shower. He didn't wait for the water to heat before stepping beneath its spray. He tried not to think about what exactly he was washing off his skin.

It was the longest shower he had ever taken and still he felt it was not enough. He could smell Hotch on him. The Alpha's scent was under his skin, clinging to him in an unmistakable musk that announced for all who could scent it what the two of them had done the night before.

The evidence of this mistake couldn't be washed off with harsh hotel soap and hot water. It wasn't a secret that could be compartmentalized and tucked away. The moment he stepped out of this room, the world would know. The scent of Hotch was on him stronger even than the Claim Derek had been working into his skin with years' worth of casual touches. Hotch had erased Derek's Claim on him.

There was no erasing what he had done.

Spencer suddenly wasn't sure whether the wetness on his face was from the shower or tears.

"Spence?" J.J. called from the other side of the door, knocking softly as she did so. "Are you alright in there?"

Spencer quickly shut off the shower and stumbled out of the tub. "I'm fine," he called out, though he didn't sound very convincing to even himself. "I'll be out in a second." He dried himself off quickly with the hotel towel and, after a long moment of reluctance, dressed in the clothes he'd just taken off. He exited the bathroom just a minute later and found J.J. and Emily awake and packing their bags.

"Hi, good morning," Spencer said with a smile that felt funny on his lips.

"How are you, Spence?" J.J. asked. She was squinty-eyed and exhausted looking, obviously hung-over.

"Better than you, apparently. What did you drink last night?"

"Too much," Emily mumbled, pushing passed Spencer and heading into the bathroom.

"We probably drank way more than we should have," J.J. agreed. "But we'll be fine. Are you okay?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

J.J. shrugged. "You just don't seem yourself. Though it may be the hangover talking."

"I'm fine, J.J." Spencer said, probably too defensively. "I need to go pack my things."

"Alright, just… If you're ever not 'fine', you know I'm here for you, right?"

Spencer found himself calming under her concerned, almost maternal, gaze. "I know. Thanks."

…

Derek isn't in the room when Spencer goes to pack his bag and it makes him wonder if maybe he hadn't been the only one who found himself sleeping in someone else's bed the night before. While he's changing into clean clothes, a text comes from Hotch saying the jet would be leaving in half an hour. Spencer quickly packs the rest of his things and rushes out of the room so that he isn't there when Derek makes his way back.

He sits in the hotel lobby and tries not to have a panic attack over the situation he was currently in. He tried to think rationally about the whole thing, but there was nothing rational about sleeping with his boss. Of everyone on the team, Hotch was the worst person he could have chosen to sleep with if he had any hope of making up with Derek. Because Hotch was the only other Alpha on the team, and Derek already thought that maybe he wasn't what Spencer wanted. Sleeping with Hotch was like telling Derek, "no, you're not good enough for me and I don't want you at all." Just slapping him in the face would have been kinder.

Behind him, the elevator dinged and he heard the doors opening. He knew without turning around that Derek had just entered the hotel lobby. He knew because Derek's scent was as familiar to him as his own. He'd carried that scent on his skin for years until it had started to feel natural, as if their combined scent was the way Spencer was always meant to smell.

Spencer didn't smell like himself anymore, because he didn't smell like Derek anymore, and because he smelled…

Spencer turned to face Derek. The alpha had been walking across the lobby with J.J. and Emily, but in an instant he froze in place. His nostrils flared and his face became a mask of shock. That shock quickly changed to a look that made Spencer feel as if he'd shot Derek through the heart. Maybe he had.

There was only one way to so thoroughly remove and replace someone else's Claim overnight. You could spend a lifetime building a Claim from innocent touches, but the amount of physical contact and bodily fluids exchanged through sex could erase it in a blink of an eye. Derek's Claim on him was gone. If any Alpha or Omega was to happen upon them now, they would say without doubt that Spencer was Claimed by Hotch.

And what was more, and it took so much out of Spencer to stop denying this fact and even just think it to himself, it wasn't just Hotch Derek was smelling on him.

Spencer and Derek and .4% of Americans were biologically different from others. They were Alphas and Omegas and everyone else were Betas. Alphas and Omegas could tell a person was pregnant within twenty-four hours of conception because they could smell it.

Spencer didn't smell like himself anymore, because he didn't smell like Derek anymore, and because he smelled pregnant.

Derek just stared at him for a long silent moment, then he balled his fists, clenched his jaw, and walked away, giving Spencer a wide berth.

It took everything within him not to cry.

…

The flight back to Quantico was silent.

Everyone was still upset about the case and were coping with it by retreating into their headspace.

Only Spencer knew that the reason Derek had opted to sit in the back of the jet, away from everyone else with his headphones in loud enough to be heard across the plane, had nothing to do with little boys they couldn't save and everything to do with being betrayed by people he trusted.

The plane landed and the team trudged back to the office like a squad of shell-shocked soldiers. For a moment, they all stood in the bullpen, silent, lost, directionless. Finally Hotch spoke, "Reports can wait until Monday. Take the rest of the day and the weekend off." As he turned to head to his office, he added, "Reid, I need a word with you."

He noticed Derek avoided looking at them both as he gathered his things and prepared to leave.

Spencer followed Hotch to his office and stood across the desk from the man as he talked about "mistakes" and "intoxication" and things that were "no excuse for" and stuff that would "never happen again" and how he could "understand if" and something about transferring or time off or some such nonsense. Even if his memory worked as well on things he heard as it did on things he read, Spencer doubted he would be able to repeat any part of this conversation later.

He was tired. Hotch wasn't saying anything he hadn't expected to hear. There was a voice in the back of his mind that found it hysterical how everything Hotch said meant nothing at all. Hotch had no idea the consequences of their actions. Even though Hotch was an Alpha, he was defective, and at that moment he thought some carefully chosen words could undo their actions. Spencer would've burst his bubble, except he was too tired to do anything other than stand and listen.

And then he couldn't bear to do even that anymore. Spencer turned and left Hotch's office without a word.

…

At home, all Spencer had was his thoughts and his regrets and the scent of Hotch on his skin.

He wanted to erase that scent.

He wanted to erase the last two weeks of his life.

He wanted Derek.

He stayed and bed all weekend and lived off the leftover bottled water and granola bars from his heat.

…

He didn't stop at the coffee shop to see Aimee and Susan on his way to work.

…

On Monday, Derek avoided him and Spencer accepted it. He kept his eyes fixed on the report he was writing and pretended everything was okay.

…

On Tuesday, Derek avoided him and Spencer accepted it, but that didn't stop him from staring at the man between the forced smiles and half-hearted laughs he gave J.J. and Emily.

…

On Wednesday, Derek avoided him and Spencer hated it. He forgot how to fake a smile. J.J. and Emily asked if he was okay and Penelope tried to cheer him up with candy and videos of kittens.

…

On Thursday, Derek avoided him and Spencer didn't get any work done. He sat at his desk and stared across the bullpen and mentally prayed for Derek to look at him. Just look at him. One time would be enough. Just acknowledge that he existed. Derek never looked up from his work and it was all Spencer could do not to cry in the middle of the bullpen.

…

On Friday, Derek avoided him and Spencer realized it'd been seven days since the man last touched him. It was strange. For years they'd touched each other, sometimes without even noticing it, and now they just weren't. And it shouldn't have been a big deal, because it wasn't anything new. A week without touches wasn't bad. Every time Spencer went into Heat, it was a week without Derek's touches. But this felt different. This felt wrong. And Spencer couldn't take it anymore.

Spencer followed Derek when he went to the bathroom, and he could tell by the tension in the alpha's shoulders that he knew Spencer was behind him.

There were two other people in the bathroom, but Spencer refused to lose his resolve. He stood silently by the door until the others left and he was alone with Derek. "Derek, can we talk?"

"I have nothing to say to you," Derek said through gritted teeth and Spencer could tell he was trying his hardest to stay calm.

"Please," Spencer begged. "I want to apologize."

"Apologize?" Derek repeated as if the word was something profane. "I don't want your apologies, Reid. I can't stand to even look at you right now. Just leave me alone." He turned and walked towards the door and suddenly just the idea of him walking away was too much for Spencer to take.

He reached for Derek, grabbing his arm. "Derek, please. I'm sorry."

"Don't fucking touch me!" Derek yelled, yanking his arm away and whirling to face Spencer with a look of unguarded fury. "You're sorry? You slept with Hotch, Reid! You slept with another alpha while I had my Claim on you! Maybe in that freak brain of yours, that's an okay thing to do or such a small offense it can be fixed by saying you're fucking sorry, but out here with us normal people sorry doesn't even begin to be enough. What were you even thinking?"

"I wasn't thinking," Spencer admitted. "I was hurting. I was hurting and he was there."

"You were hurting? Well imagine how I'm feeling right now. I said the wrong thing one time and you go off and fuck the next Alpha you see. And you didn't just sleep with any Alpha, Reid. You slept with Hotch. You slept with a man I respected; a man I considered family. And I have to look at him every day. I have to look at you every day! And I want to hurt you! I want to make both of you hurt as much as I'm hurting."

"I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I didn't want this to happen. What do you want me to do, Derek? What more can I say except I'm sorry?"

Derek's large fist swung out and hit the wall just above Spencer's shoulder. Spencer cowered beneath the alpha's large form. For a second, he had been afraid that Derek had intended to hit him. It was terrifying. He'd never feared physical violence from Derek before, but he'd also never done anything like this. This was a fear he never wanted to feel again.

All at once, Derek seemed to deflate. The anger washed out of his expression and his eyes fell to the ground. His shoulder slumped and he said in a toneless voice, "You betrayed me. You and him both. He didn't just violate our Claim, he destroyed. As far as I'm concerned, you're not even mine anymore. You're his. And you're having his baby. And that's not going to go away. No number of I'm sorry's is going to make that disappear. What you did with him… If you didn't want me, Reid, there were easier ways to let me know. Now we both have to live with this. You want to know what you can do? Just leave me alone, Spencer. Leave me alone."

When he walks away this time, Spencer doesn't stop him. When the door closes behind him, Spencer finally gives in to the tears he'd been fighting back for so long.

When Spencer leaves the bathroom, Emily, Penelope, and J.J. are crowded around each other staring at the closed door of Hotch's office. They don't even notice Spencer's red and puffy eyes, too busy throwing out progressively off-target suggestions of what Hotch and Morgan might be in there talking about.

Fifteen minutes later, Derek leaves Hotch's office, goes to his desk, gathers his things, and leaves without saying anything to anyone.

…

On Saturday, the team is called in to handle a case in Maine. Derek doesn't show up.