Wasted

Chapter 4

Hotch slowly awoke the next morning, gradually finding the strength and motivation to open his eyes and take in the day. A feeling of utter contentment flooded across him as he took in his surroundings, and a light smile crept across his face. He was laying on his back in Spencer's bed, with the younger man practically burrowed into his side, his arms wrapped around Hotch securely, and his head using his chest as his pillow. Hotch watched his lover for a moment, observing the gentle rise and fall of his chest, his soft, partially-opened lips, and disheveled, yet still absolutely entrancing, brown locks sprawled out all around his head. Hotch breathed in deeply, his feeling of contentment growing stronger by the second. He'd never known a beauty quite as perfect as Spencer Reid, and, by some miracle, that beauty loved him in return.

Hotch slipped out of the bed, quietly and stealthily, somehow managing not to disturb the sleep of his lover, and he padded silently out of the bedroom and into the main living room of the house, shutting the door soundlessly behind himself. As he turned into the kitchen, though, he was greeted by a sight that he had not been expecting, and his lovely Saturday morning took a turn towards the unpredicted.

Alice Reid stood in the kitchen, her back to Hotch, as she made herself a cup of hot tea. She wore an old, long-sleeved t-shirt that he recognized as his own. He made a mental note to stop himself from leaving so many of his clothes at Spencer's house. The shirt hung loosely on her, draping down so low that she didn't bother to wear any pants with it, and emphasizing just how thin her frame truly was. She had her dirty blonde waves of hair pulled up freely into a messy bun, and Hotch was sure that if her hair were hanging down, it would exactly resemble the mess of hair that Spencer dealt with every morning as well.

Alice turned around, having heard the man enter, and Hotch practically didn't recognize her. He could instantly identify her as being sober, as her entire expression seemed to be altered, and, in his defense, this was the first time that he had seen the girl in this state. She was clean-faced and bright-eyed, and almost looked like an entirely different woman. If anything, she looked five years younger, and more like a child than an adult. For the first time, he truly saw the resemblance between the young woman standing in front of him and the young man asleep in the bedroom behind him.

Alice seemed surprised by his presence, her soft brown eyes – God, they really were identical to Spencer's – widening slightly, as though she truly had never seen him before. It took Hotch a moment to gather that she probably didn't remember him from the night before.

"Hi," He said, slightly awkwardly, realizing how uncomfortable this moment could be for the both of them – her, dressed in nothing other than his own tshirt, and him, shirtless, in a pair of striped pajama pants. (Thank God he had at least bothered to put them on, and hadn't ventured out to the kitchen completely nude.) "I'm, uh, Aaron."

"OH." Alice sputtered out, her eyes widening even more, and her hand flying to her mouth in sudden realization. "Oh, my God, you're Aaron Hotcher." Her hand lowered to her chest. "The Aaron Hotcher."

Hotch chuckled awkwardly. "Uh, yeah, I suppose I am."

Alice nodded slowly, her eyes still wide as could be, as though she was still processing everything that was unfolding before her. Not to mention, Hotch was sure that whatever hangover she was dealing with couldn't be pretty. "I'm Alice, I'm Spencer's sister." She managed to say.

"We actually met last night." Hotch replied, trying to jog her memory. Before he could go on, Alice closed her eyes and cut him off.

"Oh, God." She let out an exasperated sigh. "That's right. I'm so sorry. I can't believe I forgot." She opened her eyes and gave Hotch a small, half-convincing smile. "I'm sorry that was our first introduction. I never get that wasted. I hardly even drink at all, you really just caught me at a bad time."

Hotch gave her a small smile, but didn't question her statement. It was evident that she was not only lying to him, but to herself, and he was sure that it was a lie that she'd told time and time again until even she believed it to be true within her own mind.

"Don't worry about it." Hotch said, taking a seat at the table. Alice grabbed her tea and followed suit, sitting down across from him.

"Well, it's nice to officially meet you, Aaron." She smiled, and it seemed genuine. "Spencer has told me quite a bit about you over the years. All good things, of course."

"That's reassuring to hear." Hotch replied. He couldn't say the same about the girl across from him; prior to 24 hours before, he hadn't even known of her existence. Wishing to avoid an uncomfortable silence, he searched for something to talk about. After a moment, he went on. "Spencer told me that you moved out here not too long ago. How are you liking it so far?"

Alice gave a slight shrug. "Eh. It has its pros and cons. It was just time to get away from Vegas, I guess." She took a sip of her tea, and Hotch took note of the thoughtful look on her face. "Sometimes it's just nice to start over in a new place."

Hotch nodded in agreement. Alice looked away from him and out the window, and he took the opportunity to further analyze her. From a completely physical perspective, he couldn't get past how beautiful she was; of course, he was slightly biased, as she greatly resembled Spencer, but even still, the girl was simply gorgeous. Hotch was by no means a completely gay man – if anything, Spencer was simply an exception to his usual preference – and he could certainly appreciate a beautiful woman when he saw one, and, at the moment, he was seated across from one who just happened to be wearing his clothing. On a deeper level, he took note of her thin frame, and, now that the fire of her drunken persona had melted away, he saw her as frail – almost weak, even – and he was sure that her weight was not the result of purely genetic factors. Sure, Spencer was a thin man, but Alice was more than just that. Hotch saw her as almost sickly, but he wasn't sure if her skinny frame was from some form of eating disorder or some type of hardcore drug use – or a combination of the two.

As Alice lifted her cup up to drink again, her shirt sleeve slipped down, and Hotch caught a glimpse of something alongside the inside of her arm. Hotch looked up to make sure that Alice wasn't aware that he was observing her, and, thankfully, her gaze was still fixed on the view outside the window. He discreetly peered at her arm again, and almost winced aloud at the sight that he was hoping not to see. Alongside the inside of her arm were a mixture of both deliberate cuts and injection sites from needles, some much older than others, but apparent nonetheless. As Hotch's eyes trailed down Alice's arm, he took note of a sickly yellowish-green bruise around her wrist from what looked to be the result of being grabbed or pulled too harshly. In her arm alone, he detected years of self-loathing and desperation, and he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by pity. As he looked away from her arm and back up to her face, his stomach plunged as his eyes made contact with hers, and he knew that he'd been caught observing her.

Rather than become upset or embarrassed, Alice lifted one corner of her mouth into what Hotch was almost sure was an attempt at a smile, as he was positive that she'd been profiled a million times before by her brother alone. She reached into her purse that sat on the table, and pulled out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. She stuck the white cylinder between her teeth, and, as an afterthought, glanced back up at Hotch and asked if he minded. He shook his head silently, and she went to light up.

"Six minutes." A voice that came from Spencer was heard from behind Hotch's head, and Alice froze. Hotch felt relief wash over him, hoping that the younger man would relieve some of the uncomfortable tension that he felt within the atmosphere of the room.

Alice rolled her eyes but put her cigarette away, disappointed. "I know, I know, six minutes less that I get to spend with you. Do you have to be so morbid this early in the morning?"

Spencer shrugged, walking into the kitchen and sliding into the chair next to his love. "It's the truth."

"I could get hit by a bus this afternoon." Alice threw the pack of cigarettes back into her purse. "Then it really wouldn't matter how many cigarettes I had in my lifetime, now would it?"

Spencer scoffed at her. "Don't be such an existentialist."

Alice let out a sarcastic laugh, then looked over at Hotch, humorously. "Oh, totally Spencer, that's definitely the point I was trying to make." She winked at Hotch, to which he couldn't help but chuckle.

Spencer glared at Hotch. "Don't encourage her, Aaron!" He practically whined. Alice giggled softly over the brim of her tea cup.

She stood up from the table and stretched, then walked over to the sink to clean her empty cup. Spencer yawned, and Hotch placed his hand on the younger man's upper thigh beneath the table.

"Have you eaten, Alice?" Spencer spoke up, and Hotch detected that his question was much more than just a question, but rather, a reminder, or perhaps, a demand.

Alice didn't look up or respond, but rather, focused intently on washing her teacup, her lips pursed into a thin line.

Spencer sighed deeply, and stood up from the table, walking towards his sister. "I have bread so you can make toast. I also have some fruit. I know you hate bananas, but I have some apples in the fridge as well. There's oatmeal in the cabinet over there, and—"

Alice spun to face Spencer, her face pleading, and she cut him off. "Spencer, please. Don't do this right now." She sighed herself, and turned back around to the sink to dry off her cup. "I'm not hungry, anyway."

Spencer stood still, observing her for a moment, as though he weren't sure whether he should press the issue or drop it. Ultimately, he decided on the latter, as he nodded slightly and turned back to the table where Hotch still sat. He stood behind the man for a moment, his arms draped around his shoulders, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek before sitting back down at the table. Hotch smiled contently.

"So, Alice, you met Aaron then?" Spencer spoke up again.

Alice, still standing, gave a small smile to Hotch. "Yeah, I did. You've got yourself a keeper, kiddo. Don't do anything to fuck it up." Spencer frowned at her lightheartedly, and Alice shot a wink at Hotch. He smiled back at her yet again. Spencer was right; he wasn't hard to like the girl when she was sober.

"Well," Alice stretched her arms above her head, the bottom of the shirt she was wearing lifting up higher above her knees, revealing yet another, fresher, painfully definite bruise on her upper thigh. Hotch furrowed his brow slightly, but didn't want to jump to any conclusions quite yet. "I'm going to grab a shower and then I'll be out of your hair for the day, Spencer." Almost sheepishly, she added, "Thanks for….you know." She made a gesture with her hand around the room that symbolized her brother allowing her to crash at his house, and he nodded back at her in understanding.

Before she left the room, Spencer spoke up. "What are your plans for the day?"

Alice froze, and almost hesitated, as though she wasn't sure whether she wanted to tell him the truth or not. "I, um, I'm gunna drop by Ben's later on, I think."

Spencer didn't say anything, and, although he was looking straight ahead rather than at his sister, she detected his look of obvious disapproval, and she quickly tried to fix her statement. "Well, um, maybe not. I don't know. I'll see how the day goes." Spencer still didn't respond. Alice looked down at the ground, and Hotch felt as though she was disappointed in herself, more than anything.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, Aaron." She managed to squeak out, before eagerly exiting the kitchen and heading towards the bathroom. Spencer let out a sigh, and shook his head as he got up from the table to make himself breakfast.

"You hungry?" He called over to Hotch, only half-heartedly listening to his reply.

Instead of responding, Hotch asked a question of his own. "Who's Ben?"

Spencer drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly before replying. "He's trouble." He finally said, worry and thoughtfulness simultaneously etched across his face. "He's trouble, and she knows it, and one of these days, if she stays with him, he will literally kill her."

To Be Continued

A/N: Hope y'all like this still! Sorry it took a while to post again. Finals week:(