Breathing Room

I love you all…you guys seriously make it awesome to write stories. Your feedback is amazing to me, and I love that you guys care so much about my odd little pairing.

So, a treat for you all: A Brooke and Reid date.

Enjoy!

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"I'm going out tonight."

Hotch couldn't help but be delighted at the announcement his niece had made when he walked through the door that night. She'd been walking through the living room in her bathrobe, her long dark hair piled atop her head in loose curls. Her smiling face was made up in the classy way he'd always noticed Brooke to look. He'd played it cool, merely nodding his head and murmuring under his breath, but inside he was glad. Going out was a sign of dealing.

Somehow, it had escaped his mind to ask with whom she was going out, though.

So when he opened the door a short time later, he was surprised to see Reid standing in the hallway. He frowned, folding the newspaper under his arm. "Reid," he said, unable to hide the surprise in his voice.

Reid stood in the hallway, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he shifted on his feet. "Hotch," he said, smiling nervously.

"This is a bit of a surprise," Hotch said. "What brings you?"

The younger agent opened his mouth to reply, but he stopped when he caught sight of something—or, rather, SOMEONE—over his shoulder.

Hotch turned, smiling when he saw Brooke making her way towards the door, her jacket and purse slung loosely over her folded arms. She was beautiful, wearing a dark purple dress that fell to her calves, a clunky black belt cinched tightly around her waist. A delicate sparkling necklace was around her neck, a matching pair of studs in her ears. She nearly glowed, standing there next to him, and he couldn't help but continue smiling. "Don't you look lovely?"

Brooke smiled, ducking her head slightly in the adorable way that Halyee always loved, before her eyes raised to look out the door at Reid.

"You do," Reid said, clearing his throat. "You do look…lovely."

Hotch's gaze slid between the two of them, noticing the way Brooke's cheeks were tinged a slight pink, and the way Reid seemed to shift even more uncomfortably on his feet. "Oh." He then noticed that Reid's dark red shirt was a bit dressier than his usual garb, and his shoulder length hair had been combed into submission. "Oh."

Realization dawned on him, and his eyes moved to meet the bright ones of his niece. "So…you're going out with Reid."

"Just to dinner," Brooke said, shrugging her shoulders.

"Kind of a…belated welcome-to-town…thing," Reid added from his place in the hall.

"Exactly," Brooke tacked on. She raised an eyebrow, smirking at her uncle. "You did say I needed to get out…right?"

Hotch shook his head, unable to stop the smile that tugged at his lips at her teasing tone. Leave it to Brooke Davis to use his own advice against him. He had, indeed, told her to get out; to have fun. But he had to admit, he certainly hadn't expected Reid to be her company.

"Well…that's kind of you, Reid," he said, turning to face his colleague. Was it horrible to be a little entertained at just how uncomfortable the young man seemed to be under his gaze? "I'm sure you'll keep an eye on her. She tends to find trouble when left to her own devices." He rolled his eyes when Brooke reached out and smacked him against the shoulder.

Reid smiled at the exchange, nodding his head. "Yes, sir."

"Alright then," Hotch said, clearing his throat as he stepped to the side. "I guess…um…have a good night. At dinner."

Brooke smiled, rolling her eyes as she stepped passed him. "You too, Uncle Aaron," she said, shaking her head as she stepped into the hallway.

"Hotch," Reid said, waving awkwardly as he turned to follow Brooke down the hallway.

Hotch stood there for a long moment, watching as they headed down the hall. Brooke had her head tilted up towards Reid, her cheeks upturned in a smile as she laughed at something Reid said. Reid's youthful face was grinning, his hand running quickly through his hair as they turned the corner.

He closed the door, running a hand under his chin for a moment before he turned, crossing the room to the kitchen table. His suit jacket was draped across the back a kitchen chair, and his hand snaked into the pocket, his fingers wrapping around his cellphone as he tossed the newspaper onto the table.

Flipping open the phone, he dialed the familiar number, unable to help the small smile that crossed his face when his ex-wife's voice spoke to him from the other line.

"How worried should I be that Brooke is on a dinner date right now with Reid?"

Haylee was silent on the other line for a long moment. "Spencer Reid?" She made a contemplative noise in the back of her throat. "That certainly wasn't one I saw coming. Why, Aaron, are you worried that Reid might get a little fresh with Brookie tonight?" He could practically hear her smile on the other line.

"I think I'm still in a little bit of shock," he replied, leaning against the counter as he crossed an arm over his chest. "Did she mention a date to you the other afternoon?"

"Can't say that she did," Haylee said. "But, then again, I'm just as overprotective as you are, so I can't say that she would. But it's a good thing, isn't it? You said that she was being a little sheltered."

"It is a good thing," Hotch said, nodding. "I guess I'm just a little surprised I'm still as worried about her now as I was when she was 15."

"Old habits die hard, Aaron," Haylee said softly. Her voice still soothed him, he realized. Despite their trials; their arguments….despite their divorce, he still found her voice to be the one thing that can lighten his mood. "Um…Jack is just getting ready to go to bed…Would you like to say goodnight?"

He smiled, nodding his head. "Yeah. Thank you, Haylee." He waited as she softly called out for their son, and his smile spread into a grin when his son's voice came over the phone. "Hey, buddy."

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"So…what kind of FBI agent is fluent in magic tricks?" Brooke laughed, reaching over and picking up the napkin Reid had moments before punctured with the knife next to his plate, in awe that there wasn't a single tear or hole in the thin fabric. She grinned, arching an eyebrow. "Do they teach a class of that at Quantico?"

Reid smirked, shrugging his broad shoulders. "I'm afraid that's classified."

Brooke laughed, shaking her head as she turned the napkin again. "You baffle me, Reid," she said softly, raising her eyes slightly to see him peering at her. Why was his gaze so intense every time he stared at her? It was like he could see to the very recesses of her inner self. Past all the bullshit layers she put up to hide her true thoughts from everyone else. It was like he knew her—the real Brooke Davis.

Which amazed her, since she sometimes felt she didn't know that girl at all.

"Why do you say that?" Reid asked, propping his chin in his hand as he rested an elbow on the table.

"Well…for starters, I've met a lot of FBI agents over the years, and never has one of them awed me with a magic trick," she said, waving the napkin in her hand, smiling when he laughed. "Then of course, there's the fact that you're all genius-y and don't really seem to like being out and about on the town, yet you knew about this restaurant." She motioned to the low-key Italian restaurant he'd driven her to earlier, with its dim lighting and soft jazz music playing in the background. She'd been pleasantly surprised, even more so as the evening wore on, to discover that the almost awkward genius could actually wine and dine with the best of them. Dinner was followed by small talk, none of which seemed forced or uncomfortable. It was almost like they'd known each other for years. She shrugged. "It just seems like every time I think I figure something out about you, you go and completely contradict it. There haven't been a lot of times that's happened, you know."

Reid pursed his lips, nodding. "Well, I'm a profiler. I don't think I'm supposed to be easy to pin down." He looked her over, and leaned closer. "You know, you're a bit of a contradiction, too."

"Have you been profiling me, Dr. Reid?"

He smiled. "Occupational hazard."

Brooke laughed, nodding as she pushed a stray curl behind her ear. "Okay, then. Profile me. Why am I a contradiction?"

Reid sighed, raising his glass of beer to his lips as he peered at her over the rim, before he cleared his throat. "You're unhappy." He saw a flicker of something in her eyes, but just as quickly it was gone, replaced by the same cool emotion he'd seen time and time again. "You're very good at hiding it, don't get me wrong. But I'm trained to spot it. You gave up an incredibly successful career, which leads me to believe that you truly don't care for material things, no matter how much you insist you do. Though you clearly have a close knit group of friends that you consider family, you chose to come to an unfamiliar town to say with your uncle while you…vacation." Again, that flicker in her eyes at the mention of the word "vacation." He cleared his throat, shifting slightly in his seat. "That leads me to believe that you see yourself apart from them. That perhaps you don't see yourself as fulfilled or content, or just that, whatever it is that you're dealing with, you don't want them to think any less of you if they should find out. In your mind…it's almost like your problems aren't as great as theirs. Which, forgive me for putting it bluntly…is wrong. They are just as great and important."

Brooke sat silently, watching him for a long moment, feeling her chest tighten with every word he spoke. She smiled suddenly, a soft, self-mocking smile, as she shook her head. "Uncle Aaron did always recruit the best," she said softly, raising her eyes to meet his. "So if I haven't fooled you, I'm guessing I haven't fooled him either?" Reid's gaze softened apologetically, and she nodded. "I'm not here on vacation." She watched him nod, his handsome features softening slightly. "Something happened…back in Tree Hill. To me. And….it changed everything. How I saw my life, how I saw myself. Suddenly, in the space of a few short, agonizing minutes, I wasn't the confident, content girl I thought I was. I was suddenly seeing everything that I'd tried to ignore about my life, since I launched the company public. The way I acted, the way I felt…" She sighed, shaking her head as she clenched her jaw tightly. "Do you ever just…look back on your life, and realize that you don't like the person you've become?"

Reid nodded, his hand unconsciously sliding up to the crease in his elbow. He could still feel the prick of the needle as Tobias had injected him with that poison he struggled to ignore. He could still feel that desire to use it again; to escape—even if just for a moment—to that place where he didn't have to concentrate so hard. He cleared his throat, meeting her gaze. "Yes," he said softly.

"It sucks, huh?" she asked, laughing softly under her breath.

Reid leaned forward, unable to quench the urge of protectiveness he suddenly felt towards the dark haired beauty sitting across from her, and he slid his hand over the table to gently cover her own. "What happened, Brooke?"

He could see the shine of tears in her eyes as she raised her gaze to meet his. Her fingers gently curled around his hand, and his thumb caressed the top of her hand gently; automatically. For the first time in as long as he could remember, Reid wasn't thinking. He was acting on instinct—to comfort.

"Someone…broke into my life…and shattered everything," she said softly. "I, um…I got attacked in my store one night. A man in a mask…jumped me as I was leaving. He left me bleeding on the floor as he ransacked everything, and he then he just…walked away. Do you know that I can still hear his voice in my head?" She let out a shaky sigh, using her free hand to quickly wipe the tears that were making their way down her cheek. "Anyway…I couldn't tell anyone."

Reid frowned. "Why not?"

"Because," she said, shrugging. "Lucas and Nathan had just lost one of their players, a boy they were incredibly close to. And Peyton and Lucas had just gotten engaged, which, might not seem like much, but it was long, looong, overdue. Haley was dealing with Jamie, and Millicent was moving with Mouth to Omaha. They all just had so much going on that I just…couldn't bring myself to tell them. So I made up some stupid story about falling down the stairs to explain the bruises, but then it all just got to be so much and I felt like I was suffocating. So I told all of them I was taking a trip to see Uncle Aaron and Aunt Haylee, and that I'd be back in time for the wedding, and I just left."

"And none of them even suspected…"

Brooke smiled. "The thing about problems, Reid? When you've got enough of your own…you kind of tend to let everyone else's slide by. I didn't give them a reason to question anything. So…." She shrugged, trailing off, and let the silence hang between them.

"Have you told Hotch this?"

She shook her head. "I want to," she confessed. "From the second I got here, all I've wanted to do is tell him. Growing up, he was pretty much the only person I could depend on. And I know that it's just as true now…but I can't help but feel that if I tell him…he's going to think of me completely different. That I'm going to go from his niece to a victim in the time it takes to tell what happened. It's stupid, I know, but…"

Reid shook his head. "It's not stupid," he said, swallowing the lump in his throat. He knew that it was out of character—he never told anyone. It had taken years for his team to find out, and even then, it wasn't by choice. But he had to let her know that she wasn't alone in how she was feeling. "My mother is a diagnosed schizophrenic." He watched her eyes shoot up, shocked, as she tilted her head slightly. "She's…institutionalized at a facility in Las Vegas…where I grew up. She was a brilliant literature teacher…the smartest woman I'd ever known. But there were days…growing up…when I could see her wrestling with her inner demons. She denied it, of course. And it all started to take its toll—on her and me. So when I turned 18, I had her put in the hospital." He sighed, watching as Brooke kept her gaze steady on him, never flinching. "I love my mother, and I'm proud to call myself her son. But I never told anyone about her, or where she was, because I was afraid how they would look at me. But, eventually, they found out. And nothing changed. Because when people care about you, Brooke…they care, regardless of what's in your past or exactly how you came to be the way you are. They look at me exactly the same way they always have. And, trust me when I say that it's a relief not to harbor that secret anymore."

Brooke sighed, sitting back in her seat as she took in the man sitting across from her. No one had ever spoken to her the way Reid did. To share something so personal and emotional, for no other purpose than to help her overcome her own fear. He didn't do it to gain pity, or to outdo her. He didn't belittle her own experience. Spencer Reid was laying his most vulnerable truths at her feet, all so she would see that he knew what it was like.

He didn't ridicule her for running away, or for not reporting it. He didn't look at her like she was some worthless human being. He didn't look at her like she was a victim.

He was looking at her in that same intense way he'd stared at her in the bullpen of the BAU.

And it still sent little shivers down her spine.

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"Mr. Hotchner, this is Nathan Scott."

Hotch ran a towel over his damp hair as he frowned, listening to the familiar voice that spoke to him from his voicemail. He'd missed a call while he'd been in the shower, and he'd been more than a bit surprised to hear the voice of his niece's childhood friend. He'd nearly forgotten Brooke and Nathan Scott had been close friends growing up. He hadn't had much interaction with the young man, but he'd heard his name mentioned numerous times over the years, and had met him a few times when he'd visited Brooke in Tree Hill. He had a vague picture of the dark haired boy in a blue and white basketball jersey, a smile on his handsome face.

"Um…sorry if this seems out of the blue. I talked to Peyton earlier and she mentioned that you'd called her, asking about Brooke and the way she's been acting lately."

He frowned, draping the towel over his dresser as he leaned against it, cradling his hand to his ear.

"I'm ashamed to say that I've been pretty distracted lately, and maybe haven't been paying that much attention to anybody else's problems lately. But…I know Brooke. And I know she's all tough-as-nails, 'it's-all-good,' but…it's not. She's been dealing with a lot of heavy stuff lately, on her own, and that's my fault, for not being there. And she's not really returning my calls lately, so…" Nathan sighed on the other line. "I don't know why I'm calling you, but I do know that you've pretty much been the only parent to her. You should know that she's not okay, no matter how much she insists she is. I don't think her fall down the stairs was a fall down the stairs."

Hotch heard the gentle knock on his door, and he snapped his phone shut as he called out to come in. He tossed the phone onto the dresser behind him when he saw Brooke poke her head in the room, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders. He raised his eyebrows, forcing a smile on his face. "Have a good time?"

Brooke shrugged, leaning against the door as she crossed her arms behind her. She was biting her lower lip, a trait he'd come associate with anytime she was struggling to tell him something.

He frowned, raising to his full height as she took a step further into the room. "Brooke-."

Brooke sighed. "I need to tell you something," she whispered.

Never had such a small, simple phrase chilled Aaron Hotchner to his very core.

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An hour later he was seated across from Brooke on the living room couch, his hands clenched tightly into fists in his lap as he listened to her retell the story of her attack. Every detail added to his horror and anger, and he had to constantly remind himself that he needed to remain calm for her. She needed her uncle at that moment, not a protector.

She was sniffling, her hands trembling as she swiped at the tears on her cheeks. Her hair was in tangles from her constant tugging and pulling as she had talked, and her eyes were nearly bloodshot with the force of her cries. She sighed, unable to lift her gaze to his meet his, instead focusing on her lap, where the remnant of Reid's napkin now sat in a torn pile.

Reid had convinced her that telling her uncle about the attack was the choice to make. She had made the first step by telling him, but it was Hotch that deserved to know. And she knew that he was right. And that, regardless of how her revelation changed the way he may look at her, she couldn't continue to suffer knowing that he might be able to help her.

Hotch swallowed the lump in his throat, and he reached out, cupping her chin in his hand gently, and pulled her face up until his eyes were level with hers. "Why didn't you call me, Brooke?" he implored.

Brooke shrugged. "I know it sounds stupid, but I was really embarrassed. I mean, you always said that you were so proud that I was able to take care of myself, and then I let this happen—."

"Hey," Hotch interjected, giving her a steady stare. "This…was not your fault. Do you hear me?" He stared at her until she nodded softly. "You need to understand that, Brooke. You could not have done anything to prevent this. It was beyond your control…do you understand?"

She nodded again after a moment, and he sighed, letting his hand drop back to his lap. He hated seeing the images that had conjured themselves in his head—Brooke lying beaten and broken, alone and terrified on a cold floor, as some masked psychopath ravaged her store around her. She'd suffered for weeks in silence, not telling a soul, because she feared they would think less of her. And though he saw it, time and time again, in countless survivors he'd spoken to over the years, the fact that it was his Brooke that feeling this way infuriated him to his core. He wanted nothing more than to find the man that had put those shadows in her eyes and—

He shook off the thought, pushing his rage to the back of his mind. He sighed, running a hand down his face as he stared at his niece. "Brooke, I need you to tell me everything you can remember about the man that attacked you."

Brooke frowned, her head shaking slightly. "He wore a mask, Uncle Aaron. I never saw his face."

"Well, what about anything else about him? Any scars you could see? Tattoos, distinguishing marks?" She shook her head after every suggestion, and he tried to squelch the feeling of despair that was rising in his chest. Without any description about her attacker, there was almost no way to track him down.

"Funny, isn't it?" Brooke asked softly. "I can't even tell you what he looks like, but I can't get his face or his voice out of my head."

Hotch frowned. "His voice?"

Brooke nodded, closing her eyes. "'Have a nice night,'" she whispered. She opened her eyes, looking up at him. "That's what he said to me before he left. 'Have a nice night.' Like what he had just done to me was nothing to him…" Her lip quivered, and she bit back a sob. "I'm so tired of being afraid, Uncle Aaron."

Hotch had to bite back the tears he could feel welling inside him at the way her voice cracked, and he reached out, gently pulling her into a tight embrace. His arms wrapped around her protectively just like they did when she was a little girl, crying as she asked why her parents didn't want to spend time with her. He felt her arms snake around his shoulders, and he heard her sob quietly into his chest. "It's going to be okay, Brooke," he whispered as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I promise. I'm going to find who did this. I've got some contacts in Charlotte, I can get the ball rolling there. I don't care if they see this as nothing more than a random act of violence, I'm going to find this bastard."

He heard her mumble something against his chest, and he pulled away, frowning. "What was that?"

Brooke shook her head, running a hand through her hair. "This wasn't random," she said softly.

"What do you mean?"

The look of determined anger in her eyes nearly threw him, and he saw the way her jaw tightened.

"Nothing Victoria does is ever random."

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Dun-dun-dun!

The cat's out of the bag! Hopefully you all are pleased with the way it came about. Somehow, Brooke confessing to Reid first just seemed right. It kind of made me realize that their connection is even stronger than I realized…the characters truly are taking on a mind of their own.

So now that Hotch knows, do you think he's going to let it go? Come on…this IS Hotch we're talking about. He's like a Papa grizzly bear. You don't mess with his cubs and walk away unscathed. We'll get a bit of a bigger glimpse into protective Uncle Aaron in the next chapter.

I hope you guys enjoyed this one! I promise that Brooke and Reid's next date—and yes, there will be a next date!—will be lighter on the heavy stuff, and more into the unbelievable cuteness that is them.

Let me know what you guys think!