Note: In case of series timeline confusion check the bottom of the story for notes.
I MAY BE SINCERE
As they climb into the black SUV, he starts the car up and begins driving far, far away from the looming shadow of the prison. Aaron Hotchner can finally let out the breath he'd been keeping inside his chest ever since the guards hadn't answered their call.
He needs to tell Spencer what a great job he did back there, so he does. Hotch though is momentarily paused by the words "Intense terror" and he feels for the young man, even though he says them absentmindedly. He thinks of Hankel too, the cabin and the cemetery then. Intense terror indeed.
Aaron feels a minuscule weight lift from the ever-oppressing sensation that has been residing on his chest as of late. They are safe, nothing happened this time.
"I'm sorry." He apologizes with what seems like effortlessness, but it takes more than he'd like to admit to say truths that make him vulnerable. Despite this, he inflicts as much honesty as he can in those two words. His young agent tries to ease the slight guilt they both know Hotch harbors, even though none of it shows in his voice.
"Eh, guess you really didn't help." The doctor says a moment later, pleased with himself.
Aaron feels a fleeting smile at the subtle sassy remark of his agent and feels no need to reprimand his cheekiness. Spencer deserves to be as cheeky as he likes, after all, confusing the brains out of a serial killer by talking for 13 minutes straight must be an accomplishment of some kind. And yes, he could've handled the situation better than to antagonize the criminal they were locked up with, but alas that is not how things went.
The small glimpse of happiness leaves him in a moment as he is reminded of the weight in his chest, always so present, never far from his thoughts. He wonders if maybe he can allow himself a moment to cry when he gets home, maybe that will ease some of the heaviness inside of him.
Hotch looks at the road but thinks of Spencer beside him, young in body and mind and light in the way he goes through life, despite the adversities he's faced. He thinks of Randall Garner and the secrets they all inadvertently confided to the doctor and the reason why they did so.
The weight in his chest grows, the heaviness of a knowledge he doesn't want to bear and wishes once again he didn't have to be a leader all the god damned time. And Spencer is there, right beside him, quiet for once, as he looks at the trees that pass them by. The weight is now a pressure building up in his throat, uncomfortable, undesired; now a pocket of air behind his teeth and closed lips.
Aaron breathes in and sighs, swallows the resting saliva on his mouth and then, he just lets it go.
"So Hailey wants me to sign the divorce papers, uncontested, so nobody wastes money on lawyers." He says it like he says everything else, levelly, calmly, but for the manner of it, one could've said he'd blurted it out.
It takes his companion just a second to think it through, maybe even less.
"You don't want to?" Spencer asks, it's almost a statement.
"What I want, I'm not gonna get." Aaron answers and he can note a glimpse of regret in his own voice.
Why in the world had he told these things to Reid of all people? The most inexperienced in life out of all of them. There were so many better and more qualified options. So why then?
He really doesn't know, but Spencer doesn't seem to find it strange. The young agent nods quietly, as if he understands, and maybe he does in a weird way. His way.
When he takes a look at the doctor, he's looking at Aaron, a faint smile on his lips, and just like his voice before, there's a shadow of regret on Spencer's face.
The Unit Chief sighs out a heavy but silent breath. He really can't tell why he shared this with the young man, but somehow it feels right. The ever present oppression in his chest lightens just the slightest bit, but he can breathe easier now, if just slightly.
Maybe now he can hold back his tears for after he signs the divorce papers.
When he wakes up, it is to the steady sensation of growing pain in his body and the constant beeping of the heart monitor beside him. He'll have to ask for another dose of morphine soon.
He takes a shaky breath in as he tries to vanish the images behind his eyelids, Foyet sitting on him, talking into his ear like a lover. Aaron shudders and tries to breathe in again.
He's so out of it he almost doesn't notice, but a slight movement makes him turn his head. Spencer's there, sitting in a wheelchair by his bed, a persistent frown on his brow.
"Hey." The young man says softly; he too, is in pain.
"Reid." Aaron wants to say, but his mouth is dry and he feels weak and there's really nothing present that he should say. His willpower, contrary to popular belief, is not unlimited.
"I was worried," Spencer whispers. It must be night, with everyone gone and so little noise going around.
Hotch raises a questioning eyebrow to him and the wheelchair, getting his message across. The young doctor shouldn't be there in his condition.
"I made my nurse bring me here," The other man chuckles and offers him a shaky smile. "Made myself quite a pain in the ass actually." He looks down. "Told him I would only accept a mild sedative if he let me see you."
When he raises his head again there are unshed tears in his eyes.
"I was worried." Echoes in Aaron's head.
In his wide brown eyes there is a deep rooted fear. It is that moment when Hotch understands. It makes him take in a small pained gasp.
Spencer doesn't want to say it, but Aaron's not a profiler for nothing, he knows what this is about. He reads it in the whole of the agent's body and in his big expressive eyes, the words the young doctor won't say.
I've been there. I know how it feels. I know what being all alone and in pain at the hands of evil is like. The pain you feel I've felt before. This fear that plagues you has followed me wherever I go.
"I was worried."
Hotch's throat clamps a little, but he won't allow himself to cry anymore, he's done too much of that for one day, with Hailey, with Jack, almost with Emily too, damn it. But Spencer is looking at him with eyes that say too much and the weight in Aaron's chest is crushing him.
He doesn't want to think about it, but he's scared. He feels terrified.
Hotch doesn't even think about it when he turns his hand upside down and nudges it a bit to the right where his agent sits. His palm is open, weak but inviting.
Spencer takes his hand eagerly, despite his aversion to touching others, and squeezes it.
He's trying to contain himself, but it's very hard with the younger man's warm, if fragile, presence beside him. He swallows, then wets his lips as he tries to control the rising emotions in his chest.
When the first tear falls neither of them say a word. When the second and third follow, Aaron doesn't have an ounce of will left in him. As he struggles quietly to breathe in and keep his breakdown to a minimum he's grateful for Spencer's wordless comfort.
As he feels the world falling down on top of him, the doctor is like a buoy in the middle of an angry storm. Afloat despite the mayhem.
He wonders again why he feels compelled to trust Spencer with his burdens when he won't let anyone else take even a peek at them. He's so young still and seems far younger than any twenty six year old ought to seem like.
It's a bit strange; he'd always had a soft spot for the agent but in a brotherly way, sometimes fatherly, though he tried to avoid it. With a job like theirs, having a too strong emotional connection could prove to be disastrous. Nevertheless, he feels a deeper sense of protectiveness for the doctor than he feels for the rest of his team.
However, one did not confide a son or a younger brother their ailments, one had to be a steady presence, a rock in the face of adversity for them to always lean on. Something is shifting between them.
He stands up from his desk and rubs tiredly at his eyes with one hand. He needs coffee and time to think. He can at least solve one of those problems, so he heads out of his office to the small kitchen on their floor.
The lanky young man is there, pouring what might probably be the fourth spoon of sugar into his coffee. Hotch allows himself a very slight smile.
"Morning Reid," he greets, pleasantly enough.
"Hi." The young agent waves slightly as he holds his cup close to his chest, Aaron guesses, to feel the comforting warmth.
The doctor shifts his eyes to the floor for a moment before settling and looking up at him again.
"How are you holding up?" Spencer asks quietly.
For a fraction of a second, Aaron is compelled to tell him the truth. No, he's not really holding up, his life is a depressing mess, he misses his son so much it physically hurts, and he misses Hailey more than she probably thinks he does, half of the time his skin crawls with the phantom memory of Foyet and the other half his mind presents him with unwanted images of their encounter. He stops himself. It's definitely not the right time or place.
Before the well loved and practiced 'I'm fine' can flow out of his lips he settles for an in-between.
"I'm not great." He answers evenly.
"We could…" Spencer hesitates, "talk about it later if you feel like it?" he asks warily, in case the invisible boundaries that have always been there have been undesirably crossed.
Aaron realizes then that the young agent has reached the same conclusion as he has. Something is shifting between them, their relationship is not as it was before, so Spencer has taken a leap of fate and reached out to him.
"I…" Hotch doesn't know what to say for a moment "I would like that." He answers honestly.
It is definitely awkward.
While they both know the dynamics between them are changing, taking a jump from stern, almost fatherly unit chief, to agreeing to go drink coffee at the park – where they will most definitely discuss things that have left him scarred - like two, old, trusted, acquaintances, feels like too much of an abrupt change.
They sit there in silence for a while, uncomfortable, the day is almost over but the sun has yet to set entirely.
Aaron supposes he got himself into this mess so he might as well take the first step and just talk. It is harder than it had been that first time when they had left the prison, drove away, and the words had all but slid from his mouth. Of course the topic is much too different this time, he isn't worried about divorce papers, he's emotionally wrecked because he has been tortured for hours on the floor of his apartment, and now his ex-wife and child are God knows where under protective custody.
"After Hankle… I had this thing where… I was very- I didn't want people touching me. More than I usually do, I mean." Spencer stumbles over his words.
Hotch looks at him, slightly surprised he has offered this piece of information first. The young agent, just like Hotch, isn't too prone to sharing his pains; he keeps everything close to his heart where it won't show and people won't suspect.
"When I was still bedridden after that – back when Morgan was still staying with me - and… he was helping me put my clothes on when," He blushed slightly, "I didn't notice until it was too late, but he kind of grazed my foot with his hand. I didn't even think about it, I just… kind of clocked him." He shares, there's a faint smile on his lips but it vanishes. Spencer sighs.
"I never thought I would be so finicky about something like my feet before. Now it just makes me very scared… if I step on something the wrong way without shoes my mind just… flashes to Hankel when he…" His eyes are dark as he struggles to continue, "when he hit my foot with that piece of wood. I freeze up, my heart races…"
Almost three years since then and Spencer still got choked up by the memory of his kidnapping. The Unit Chief wonders what awaits him when three years pass for him. How long will it be until he sees Jack again? Five years? Ten years? What will his precious little boy remember of his father when so long had gone by?
His eyes mist but he doesn't cry, Spencer is looking at him.
"I lied," Aaron swallows "when I told everyone I'd passed out after the first stab. I actually remember all of them, I didn't pass out until he put me in his car." He distracts himself by taking a sip of his hot coffee.
"Were you scared?" Spencer asks and if Hotch wasn't a profiler, he probably would've missed the timidity behind the question.
"Very." He brushes away the lone tear that spills over and takes a deep breath. He misses being the cool headed and cold-hearted person everyone thinks he is, that he thought he was. He misses the stability of having control over his emotions, of not succumbing to trembling fingers when his skin comes in contact with the cool firmness of metal.
"Why did you lie?" The young agent inquires. There are no accusations in his voice, only curiosity, still Hotch turns to him with a sudden flare of quiet anger.
"Why didn't you tell us about the drugs?" He asks back.
Barely a second later Aaron already regrets his words, Spencer doesn't deserve them, he just wants to help. But instead of flinching like he expected, the young man just looks at him without judgment. He remembers the months Reid had spent angry with them, with everything. Spencer understands this too. The quick anger that comes from hurt and it's only an effort to protect oneself.
The young man understands so much of what he feels right now, it makes a pang course through Hotch.
"I didn't want any of you to think I was weak. I was in pain and even though I didn't want them, Tobias was right; the drugs did help. At that moment, I wasn't thinking and then… well then, there was no turning back I suppose," Reid answers truthfully.
Aaron sighs and leans against the bench.
"I didn't want the team to realize the implications of it. Of me being awake while Foyet stabbed me." He confesses levelly. "He told me… 'I understand that profilers think that stabbing is a substitution for the act of sex.' He told me this while he stabbed me repeatedly." As he talks he never looks at the other, he doesn't know what he'll find in his agents' eyes, but he doesn't want to know; for reasons he can't really put a name to.
"And he… Foyet, he-" Aaron shudders, he's never told anyone this, he's not ready, but the words are already in his mouth. "He whispered in my ear and talked softly to me, and I felt- I feel-" He grunts in frustration, he doesn't know how to say it, "he sat on top of me and- told me to relax, as if-!"
When he can't take it anymore he squeezes his cup and throws it to the ground in anger. He can't control his breathing, it's shaky and unsteady. His pants are stained and now he smells of coffee. A moment later he feels the burn on one of his hands caused by the hot liquid. He closes his eyes tightly as he tries to regain his bearings.
"I hated feeling powerless too." The soft words make him whip his head up. His eyes are red but he's not crying as he looks at Spencer's sad face.
Aaron convers his face and hides from the world in his hands. He tries to calm down, get back in control.
He feels Spencer scooting over closer to him. He doesn't place a comforting hand over his shoulder or try to give him a hug, it's not like him. They now are shoulder to shoulder and he's pretty sure if he moves their knees will bump. Spencer offers none of the conventional means of comfort, but his pretense is enough.
Painfully slowly, he gets himself under control until he can breathe normally again. He takes in a deep breath and leans back against the bench.
Sitting closely, they watch what's left of the sunset and say nothing more. Aaron thinks it's just the right amount of solace that he needs.
As he tries to understand this shift between them, Aaron thinks of Sean.
When they were little, he used to protect and shield his brother from everything out there: harsh realities, things he was not ready for, even harmless insects sometimes. But as Sean had grown up and childish things were left behind, he and Aaron began to tell each other everything, confiding dark things that others were not meant to hear, secrets, desires, dreams, and hurts.
And Spencer… he's not Sean, but it reminds him of what he used to have with his brother. The fatherly desire to protect him that he's always harbored towards the youngest, is not gone, but it's more what he feels towards his brother than his son now. In a way, Spencer feels a lot like Sean. Someone who understands and listens, who knows what to look for when he won't say anything. Spencer is…
He's a friend.
Spencer is a friend. It's as simple as that. So simple, yet the journey to get where they are was so long and so arduous, it's a wonder they ever got here.
It's nice having a friend. The rest of the BAU, they're his friends too, but they are co-workers as well, he is their boss.
This feels different.
A friend…
Who would've thought?
"A friend is a person with whom I may be sincere. Before him I may think aloud. I am arrived at last in the presence of a man so real and equal, that I may drop even those undermost garments of dissimulation, courtesy, and second thought, which men never put off, and may deal with him with the simplicity and wholeness with which one chemical atom meets another."
― Ralph Waldo Emerson, Essays: First Series
Abril: Well wasn't that a nice little ride? Lol, I had this in my wips for some honest 2 years, maybe more. Now that I got some help with cleaning it up I can finally post it, thanks to the wonderful 'Phoenyx-Fyre-Writer' for being beta.
I just love Reid and Hotch so much, and love their very clearly, fatherly, sonly relationship lol.
Anyway, I wish a nice day to you all, leave a comment if you enjoyed the story and all that jazz, hehe. Ciao.
Story notes:
The first section takes place in "Damaged" (s03e14) after Reid saves Hotch and himself from being trapped with a criminal they were interviewing. Reid tells Hotch "I find I do some of my best work under intense terror."
The second section takes place at the end of "Nameless, Faceless" (s05e01) after Foyet attacks Hotch in his home and Reid takes a bullet protecting another officer.
