"At Home"
Pairing: Hotch/Reid (established)
Rating: PG
Summary: Hotch is shaken after a bad case. Reid does what he can to help.
A/N: Part of the same verse as "Solace," but set way later down the line. This was written for morejoyful; partially because I'm glad she made it through her week, and partially because I'm seriously beginning to think she is my muse.
It’s been a long day. The team, combined with the local police force, had spent the past three days tracking down a missing boy. And while the unsub was apprehended, the child had been dead for hours when the body was discovered. It’s the kind of case that always leaves Spencer with a permeating sense of dread, one that often refuses to leave for days afterwards. It doesn’t matter that the odds of finding a missing child dramatically decrease after the first 24 hours - that there are cases where even after just a single hour the child was killed. What matters is that the life of a youth has been snuffed out, and the team was just hours behind
Part of the sense of dread that follows Spencer around on these particular cases is the knowledge of the effect it will have on Aaron. Their unit chief was always particularly strained on cases that involved children, but that had increased tenfold after the man had become a father himself. Though he tries to hide it, a person can see the tension in Aaron if they know where to look. And Spencer has been skilled at interpreting his nuances for a while.
Aaron has been in Jack’s room for nearly an hour now. Spencer knows that this is how he recuperates after cases that proved to be taxing, has watched as the older man went so far as to climb in bed with Jack per his son’s request. So Spencer leaves him to it, seating himself at Aaron’s desk in the living room with a few of the files that were tucked away in his messenger bag. He doesn’t read closely, too distracted with listening for sounds of the light murmurs emanating from Jack’s bedroom. Jack says something that makes his father laugh, and Spencer smiles down at the papers in his hands.
When Aaron quietly leaves Jack’s room a few minutes later, the set of his shoulders is low. Although Spencer wants to believe that the time spent with his son has loosened him up, something tells him that Aaron’s posture is also somewhat defeated. He watches as the other man comes to sit on the living room’s couch, only to begin staring blankly at the television that isn’t even on.
Spencer rises from his chair, abandoning his only half-attempted work to sit next to Aaron on the couch. Aaron doesn’t say anything, but his head tilts ever so slightly in Spencer’s direction. Spencer takes that as all the invitation he needs to wrap an arm around Aaron and pull him in close. He’s not actually a person very big on touch, but if there’s one thing he’s learned about the man sitting beside him, it’s that while he may be an expert at putting up walls, he can’t shield himself off from this.
The two melt back into the cushion behind them. Aaron doesn’t move to pull Spencer any nearer, but his head is leaned on Spencer’s shoulder; each lungful of air that puffs across Spencer’s jawline says that he could easily move away, but he’s content not to. Neither of them speaks. As the silence ticks on, Spencer begins to idly run his other hand up and down Aaron’s forearm - on the fourth stroke, Aaron reaches to tangle their fingers together.
The two sit like that for a long time.
Gradually, Aaron relaxes, and Spencer feels that knot of despair start to loosen. Eventually, he becomes aware that Aaron has fallen asleep. He feels no inclination to move. Sitting with the other man tucked beside him, he suddenly remembers a moment very much like this one, where their positions had been reversed. Very few words had been exchanged between them then, but now, Spencer understands that words don’t have to be used for everything to be said. Tightening his grip on Aaron’s hand in a gentle squeeze, Spencer breathes a quiet sigh, and settles in to sleep.
Rating: PG
Summary: Hotch is shaken after a bad case. Reid does what he can to help.
A/N: Part of the same verse as "Solace," but set way later down the line. This was written for morejoyful; partially because I'm glad she made it through her week, and partially because I'm seriously beginning to think she is my muse.
It’s been a long day. The team, combined with the local police force, had spent the past three days tracking down a missing boy. And while the unsub was apprehended, the child had been dead for hours when the body was discovered. It’s the kind of case that always leaves Spencer with a permeating sense of dread, one that often refuses to leave for days afterwards. It doesn’t matter that the odds of finding a missing child dramatically decrease after the first 24 hours - that there are cases where even after just a single hour the child was killed. What matters is that the life of a youth has been snuffed out, and the team was just hours behind
Part of the sense of dread that follows Spencer around on these particular cases is the knowledge of the effect it will have on Aaron. Their unit chief was always particularly strained on cases that involved children, but that had increased tenfold after the man had become a father himself. Though he tries to hide it, a person can see the tension in Aaron if they know where to look. And Spencer has been skilled at interpreting his nuances for a while.
Aaron has been in Jack’s room for nearly an hour now. Spencer knows that this is how he recuperates after cases that proved to be taxing, has watched as the older man went so far as to climb in bed with Jack per his son’s request. So Spencer leaves him to it, seating himself at Aaron’s desk in the living room with a few of the files that were tucked away in his messenger bag. He doesn’t read closely, too distracted with listening for sounds of the light murmurs emanating from Jack’s bedroom. Jack says something that makes his father laugh, and Spencer smiles down at the papers in his hands.
When Aaron quietly leaves Jack’s room a few minutes later, the set of his shoulders is low. Although Spencer wants to believe that the time spent with his son has loosened him up, something tells him that Aaron’s posture is also somewhat defeated. He watches as the other man comes to sit on the living room’s couch, only to begin staring blankly at the television that isn’t even on.
Spencer rises from his chair, abandoning his only half-attempted work to sit next to Aaron on the couch. Aaron doesn’t say anything, but his head tilts ever so slightly in Spencer’s direction. Spencer takes that as all the invitation he needs to wrap an arm around Aaron and pull him in close. He’s not actually a person very big on touch, but if there’s one thing he’s learned about the man sitting beside him, it’s that while he may be an expert at putting up walls, he can’t shield himself off from this.
The two melt back into the cushion behind them. Aaron doesn’t move to pull Spencer any nearer, but his head is leaned on Spencer’s shoulder; each lungful of air that puffs across Spencer’s jawline says that he could easily move away, but he’s content not to. Neither of them speaks. As the silence ticks on, Spencer begins to idly run his other hand up and down Aaron’s forearm - on the fourth stroke, Aaron reaches to tangle their fingers together.
The two sit like that for a long time.
Gradually, Aaron relaxes, and Spencer feels that knot of despair start to loosen. Eventually, he becomes aware that Aaron has fallen asleep. He feels no inclination to move. Sitting with the other man tucked beside him, he suddenly remembers a moment very much like this one, where their positions had been reversed. Very few words had been exchanged between them then, but now, Spencer understands that words don’t have to be used for everything to be said. Tightening his grip on Aaron’s hand in a gentle squeeze, Spencer breathes a quiet sigh, and settles in to sleep.