AN: Hi! It has been a while, huh? These are two quick scenes that popped into my head this morning. I know a lot of you wanted a "sequel" to #6, so #9 is for you. Forgive my slight indulgence into the JJ/Hotch fandom in #10, though I made it as realistic as possible. Please review (if you forgive me for waiting so long to update).
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds.
The Hotch Chronicles – Segment 5
/9/
You look at the options in front of you. Four pairs of jeans, all in various dark shades, two long sleeve shirts and two button down shirts with thin, multi-colored pinstripes. You've dragged the items out of your closet and drawers and laid them all on your bed. To you, making your selections was a guessing game because really, you have no idea what you are going to wear.
You release a sigh and place your hands on your hips.
It's Monday and the competition has begun.
You really think you are at a disadvantage because you've never dressed casually at work in your entire career. Morgan has at least worn suits before. You scoff. Putting together a jacket and tie outfit is much easier than…this. You bite your lip, something you haven't done in a long time, as consider your possible wardrobe pieces for the day.
After a moment you go for the darkest blue jeans you have because you feel ridiculous standing there, looking at your bed in nothing but your boxer-briefs, an undershirt and socks. After slipping on the pants, you resume your prior stance and stare at the shirts. You think making a decision is going to be impossible. You just CANNOT DECIDE.
You feel like a girl.
And you're utterly lost.
You called Dave last night, planning to ask for advice on what to wear today but once he answered, you thought the notion of talking about clothes with Rossi was purely ridiculous.
You glance at the clock to gauge how much time you have. Perhaps you should've woken up earlier to give yourself extra time to get ready. You shake your head. Yes, you're officially a girl.
You reach out and your hand hovers over one of the cotton shirts. It is the closest thing you have to the shirts Morgan wears. However, your eyes are wandering to the collared, button down next to it with thin green and blue pinstripes. You grab it because you can't show up to the office in jeans and a casual shirt or Strauss may have a heart attack.
You throw on the shirt before you can change your mind and begin to button the cuffs.
But you really want to win this thing. And it is fun to prove people wrong.
So instead, you roll up the sleeves.
You take a look at yourself in the mirror and decide you've done well. You nod your head and are convinced the team will be impressed at your ability to "dress down". And that you own something colorful. Your confidence takes over and maybe by Friday you'll rock something even more casual, but for now, you're just proud you actually threw this ensemble together.
When you go to your dresser to retrieve the watch that Haley gave you for your anniversary years ago, you feel a sense of calmness. You feel relaxed when dressed like this. You hate to admit it, but Morgan may be on to something.
On your way out of your bedroom you glance at the clock again and know you'll be a little late. You smirk and decide not to worry about it. If you have to dress down like Morgan, you should be allowed to mimic his tardiness too.
/10/
How you got to this point, you'll never know. You were chasing the unsub through the building, up to the roof, and now you are at its edge, desperately hanging on to Rossi's grip.
"Come on, Aaron, come on," your friend grunts. He is grimacing from his exertion.
You feel helpless because you can't get a good enough grip on the ledge with your free hand and Grant hit you in the gut with a pipe before you went over. You squint and groan as you try again. "Shit!" you mutter when your hand slips. Your heart stops and you pray Rossi's grip is as secure as it feels. Dangling, you look down and are reminded that you ran up seven flights of stairs.
"Don't look down, you idiot!"
You look back to Rossi.
"I got you Aaron." Rossi looks you square in the eye and you believe him. The man has never lied to you before and has always steered you in the right direction. You give him a curt nod in understanding and raise your free arm back up towards the roof.
Both of you feel your hands getting sweaty. Dave adjusts his grip, lowering it and quickly grabs your arm and you feel yourself rise a few inches. You reach up for the ledge again and are able to get a better grip on it. In the back of your mind you feel your arms scraping against the brick, burning your skin through your shirt. You recognize the straining of muscles and think you are on the verge of tearing a few ligaments.
But you don't focus on your evident injuries and instead you will yourself upwards. You do it for Jack, for yourself, for the team. They were the people who mattered most to you, and you couldn't let them down.
You rise again and you don't know if it is your willpower or Dave, but you'll take it.
"Oh my God! Hotch!" JJ's head appears above you and she grabs your free arm.
"On three," Dave says. "One, two, THREE!"
The three of you work together and soon you feel Dave's hand on your back and JJ's arms around you. You instinctively pull yourself towards them and soon, the three of you are in a small pile on the rooftop. You hear nothing but your heavy panting and the occasional car horn blasting in New York traffic below.
You're absolutely spent so you don't move your head from JJ's stomach. The whole ordeal lasted less than five minutes, you rationally think, but it feels like a year has passed. In your peripheral vision you see Dave sit up, his chest heaving. "Okay?" he asks.
You nod against JJ's shirt and try to slow down your breathing. You've never been more exhausted in your life and you're not sure if your limbs will work. You lazily try to lift the arm that is draped across JJ but it is taking too much effort. JJ's hands are on you, one in your hair, another on your back, patting it. You think she is doing it to assure herself you are still here. At least, that's what the light taps are doing for you. You close your eyes and before you realize what you're doing, you bury your face into her pink blouse in relief. Her patting stops and she lightly squeezes you. "You're okay, Hotch."
Her voice is warm and soft, just like her shirt. You know you're safe, just as you know you should get up because it'd be a tricky thing explaining this compromising position. You greedily allow yourself a few more moments of JJ's comforting before you finally push yourself off of her. Unexpectedly, your right arm gives out and before you fall back down on JJ, you angle yourself sideways and land on your back next to her.
"Aaron? What is it?" Dave asks as he disconnects his call to the others. He drops his cell phone into his pocket and leans over you.
"I think I," you pause, because you feel pain crawling throughout your body. "…dislocated my shoulder,"
"The medics are on their way," Dave tells you. He looks concerned.
You don't want him to worry. "Other than that I'm fine," you say. Your words are effortless because you've mastered them over the years.
"Did you hit your head?"
"No," you answer truthfully, though Dave does not look convinced. His doubtful look makes you reconsider. Did you hit your head? You honestly don't remember. "I don't think so," you confess.
"What happened?" JJ asks from your side, where she is perched on her legs. She alternates from you to Dave, question, concern and surprise in her eyes.
"Unsub," you croak out. You wince at the jolt of pain in your shoulder. It is clear to you that your adrenaline is wearing off and you think you are about to pass out. You haven't felt pain like this since your SUV exploded. Since Kate.
You avoid JJ's and Dave's eyes by keeping yours closed.
"Yeah, Morgan and I intercepted him in the alley. He's in custody. I came up here to find out where you two were. I thought…" JJ allows her voice to drift away.
"We chased Grant up here. We were going to corner him so we split up. The next thing I see is Aaron hanging off the edge."
You open your eyes, ready to explain further, but you're so tired. You turn towards JJ and are face to face with her pink shirt. You wish you were still lying with her and you frown at your line of thinking. It is JJ. Not Haley, not Kate. JJ. You can't think about the implications of your wish so you decide you must be delirious from the pain. People don't think straight in delirium.
Just before you pass out, you see JJ's worried, beautiful face and hear Dave calling your name.