Apathy As Disguise: Part 2 [FanFic]
Title: Apathy As Disguise: Part 2
Author: Tooks
Pairing: Hotch/Reid, Reid/Ethan
Rating: FRAO
Summary: When neither Hotch nor Ethan can keep hiding how they feel it's up to Reid to make a tough decision...one that will affect them all.
Notes: This is AU but there are Season 5 spoilers!! Second part of Piece 20 of my "Breaking the Bonds" series. There's cursing, drunkenness, references to drug usage and sexual activity, physical violence, and, as always, angst. (Ethan was Reid's friend from Season 2's "Jones".) This is pretty much the end of this particular story...More tales will come in this world, I'm sure, but I don't know what, exactly, they will be - when I do, you will too though, haha!
Maybe it was the night in total, maybe it was Spencer’s clear manipulation of him, or maybe it was just the cocaine, but Ethan found his mouth shooting off once in the parking lot. “That lil’ bite I left on Spencer musta really got under your skin.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hotch replied curtly.
“No?” Ethan followed the man to his SUV and slipped in to block the driver’s side door. “You really think Reid didn’t call me on it? Considering how he was on the phone I’m gonna guess you flipped your shit, didn’t ya? I told Spencer you were the jealous type, he ain’t even yours and you’re jealous.”
Hotch stared back, but said nothing.
“Ya wanna know what really bothers me, Hotchner?”
“No.”
“It’s that he actually thinks you’re a good option. Can you believe?” Ethan almost snorted his laugh. “His fuckin’ closet-case boss. A man so deep in denial about what he wants that his entire…being is a disguise.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“But I do, Hotchner, I really do.”
“Get the fuck away from me.” Hotch made an attempt for the door, but Ethan stopped it with a hand to his chest. Aaron grabbed the man’s wrist to pull him out of his way. Problem was, even with his training, he was still very drunk…and Ethan knew how to fight.
He let Hotch have his wrist and used the bond, along with his superior footing, to switch their positions. Ethan shoved the other man into the SUV slightly as he twisted away from the hold and then slammed his hand next to Hotch's head so that the agent actually gave a slight flinch.
Aaron didn’t realize that the drinks had effected him so heavily until his head spun as his back hit the car and a brief wave of nausea came with Ethan’s pound on the metal door. The agent found himself stunned as he looked at the other man, began to take in the features of Ethan’s face as he spoke.
“I fucked up a lot with Spencer, I know that, but I’ve always been honest about who I am. You’re too cowardly to even admit that much to yourself. I’ll do anything for him and you’re too weak to even take a single good look in the mirror. How the fuck is that fair? You tell me that.”
When he first met Ethan Aaron thought his appearance to be that of some dirty musician, someone who didn’t give a damn, but now he saw that wasn’t the case at all. Everything about the man was intentional; from the worn in, but slightly expensive, clothes to the relaxed, appealing, manner in which Ethan moved and settled. The hair was long, yes, but clean (even smelled of shampoo) and facial hair well-groomed to soften a strong jaw. A jaw that led to lips that, when not smiling, were nearly as full as Spencer’s and let out liquor-sweet breaths in soft huffs.
“Your accent’s fake,” Hotch blurted out.
Ethan’s lips thinned out into a smirk, a smile, and then a laugh. “What?”
“It’s fake…your whole persona is.”
“That so?”
“You grew up with Spencer, you should have his accent, but you don’t. You’re a jazz musician, you play small clubs and probably don't make much from them, but you have expensive clothes and keep up on your grooming.”
“You keep this up I’m gonna start thinkin’ you’re hittin’ on me.”
“You disguise yourself, slip into this Southern charmer act, but that’s not who you are.”
“Then tell me, closet-case, who am I?”
“Stop calling me that.”
“What? Closet-case?” Ethan made the cocky smirk Aaron had fast grown to loathe.
Aaron shoved Ethan hard, but the man only laughed a touch as he stepped back a moment before stepping forward once again and shoving Aaron right back.
“Com’on, Aaron,” Ethan teased out the man’s first name as he crowded closer, as close as he had in the bathroom. “Straight guys don’t look at other guys the way you do, they don’t get jealous when one of their guy friends has someone in their lives, they don’t watch other guys’ mouths so intensely, and they really, really, don’t let other guys give them blowjobs.”
It was like the bell went off in a boxing round or The Jerry Springer Show. Aaron lunged and swung, Ethan dodged and shoved, and they were at it with very little grace but more than enough aggression. The two men took shots at one another with the brutality of UFC fighters going for the championship and neither seemed all that inclined to call any sort of truce.
The only thing that kept the cops from being called was the head bartender who could sense a fight a mile away and happened to be friendly with Ethan. Along with a few of the staff he went outside and pulled the two men apart before there was a real scene or any permanent damage done.
Ethan spat out the blood lingering in his mouth and paced as he assured those around him that he was fine and had no intention of continuing the street brawl. Hotch, on the other hand, ignored the thick, red, stream running by his right eye in favor of attempting to shove those holding him back off…with liquor and adrenaline still streaming hard and fast he wanted to go another round or two.
“Hey!” Gil, the bartender, boomed loud enough to finally catch the agent’s attention. “Knock it off!”
“He started it!” Aaron blurted out like every kid ever to get into a fight.
“I don’t give a flyin’ fuck who started it, it ends now,” Gil insisted before turning to Ethan. “Ya’ll right, E?”
“Yeah,” Ethan spat out a touch more blood. “Fine.” He was still panting hard and fast, still pacing, but compared to Aaron he was calm.
“Maybe ya oughta head on home?”
“Make sure Hotchner here doesn’t drive, he’s a real light-weight.”
Gil smiled a little. “Compared to you everyone’s a light-weight.”
The musician laughed a bit. “Here’s his keys,” Ethan tossed the keys he’d lifted in the midst of the battle to the bartender. “He’s stayin’ at America’s Best Value Inn in Gretna, get ‘im a cab. I’ll call my fella, his friend, let ‘im know what happened and to come pick up the car.”
Hotch lunged before being pushed back once again.
***
Spencer paced outside the hotel as he waited, scratching his arm and chin before harshly rubbing his face as he did. He could barely contain the nervous and angry energy he had. He had asked Ethan to do something very simple, find Aaron, and it ended in a brawl. Spencer’s fingers, his nails, returned to his arm with renewed vigor.
Of course! Of course it ended in a brawl! They were two Alpha-males on substances that caused them to behave like children and, lately, neither exactly needed the help being immature. Maybe he should just be lucky the two men didn’t seriously hurt each other, but he wasn’t. He was pissed and nervous…nervous the men would fall back on old addictions; nervous he’d do the same.
Reid stopped scratching when he felt his nails tear up skin. His hiss melted into the sound of a cab pulling up, but Reid didn’t approach it. He hung back and waited for Aaron to climb out and storm over the best he could in his drunken, slightly beaten, state. Spencer made a point of speaking first.
“Rossi already switched with me so your room’s the same.”
Hotch had been prepared to go off on his subordinate, but something in Reid’s tone stopped him. It made him want to apologize. “Reid,” he looked down. “Spencer, you don’t have to switch rooms.”
“No, uh, I really do,” Spencer insisted before he gave a sigh. “We, uh…we should talk.” It wasn’t a request as he went to sit on a bench and Aaron followed. It was something he’d hoped he wouldn’t have to do, but knew he did. He took a deep breath as he shook his head a touch and let Aaron get settled awkwardly beside him. “This…isn’t working.”
“What isn’t working?” Aaron felt his blood slow in his veins; he could barely look up at the other man. The man he’d grown closer to and to care about more than he ever thought possible.
“Whatever this is between us.” Reid bit his lip a touch. “I love working at the BAU, I love being part of this team and working for you, Aaron, but the rest…it, uh…it’s just…” Reid shrugged, “impossible.”
“So it’s Ethan then?” Hotch’s voice hardened around the edges as he tried not to show just how much that possibility hurt.
“No. I, uh…”
“I’m sorry, Spencer.” The hardness left the elder man swiftly and he hung his head like a child.
Spencer set a hand on Aaron’s back, rubbed a touch. “It’s, uh…it’s not your fault. Not any more than it is mine.” He had worked so hard to help Aaron get clean, break the bonds of his addiction, that he hadn’t thought to look out not to become one himself. Reid set his hand back into his own lap. “I just, uh, know where this is going and…I don’t think any of us want to cause one another more pain. Sometimes it, uh…it’s best to just step away.”
Maybe that was what all those people who’d left Reid before thought…it was better to just step away. The only difference was this time it was Spencer who was the one taking the needed action. Spencer was the person stepping away and now he realized that it didn't hurt any else on this end.
Aaron took in a deep, ragged, breath. “I want you to know that I…appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Spencer. I know it wasn’t easy.”
“It was worth it though,” Spencer smiled just a touch and took one of Aaron’s cut-up hands. “I care about you.”
“I care about you too.” The confession came out soft and low with the gentle squeezing of the hand Spencer held.
“I know.”
The two men shared a brief, sad, smile.
“I want you to stay on the team. I don’t want you to go.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Aaron. Not really.”
“I really fucked this all up, didn’t I?”
Spencer couldn’t stop the slight curling up of his lips. “We all did.”
***
The first time they’d parted ways it’d been as subtle as Ethan slipping into the world of illicit substances and illegal activities thus leaving young Spencer on his own. This time…this time it was as subtle as Hotch and Ethan’s fight with Reid nearly exploding with years of pent up anger.
For a good hour or two they argued; threw blame around and brought up past hurts buried over the years and never before addressed. By the time it was over Spencer had called Ethan a fucking druggie infant and Ethan informed Spencer that sucking off Hotch wasn’t good therapy for his daddy issues. It was Reid who hung up first and refused to pick up each time the other called back even after he knew Ethan just wanted to apologize.
It wasn’t until three days later, the case Reid and Hotch both threw their focus into now over, that Spencer called his long-time friend once again.
“Too early,” Ethan grumbled into the phone despite having answered it on the first ring…despite having clearly been waiting for the call.
“Don’t you ever get up before noon?” Spencer smiled, happy to already fall back into their old riffs. Relieved Ethan picked up at all.
“Not unless I gotta,” Ethan laughed back as he sat up. “I’m glad you called.”
“I, uh…I didn’t want to leave things, well, uh…”
“Like they’d been left?” Ethan offered.
“Yeah.”
“Don’t worry about it, Spencer.”
Reid sighed. “The things I said to you, they, uh…they weren’t fair.”
“Since when did we ever treat each other fair?” Ethan pointed out as accurately as Spencer had the night before. “Sorry I was an asshole.”
“I was too.”
“No more than I was.”
“You know I, uh, still care about you right?”
Ethan smiled into the phone. “A question that doesn’t need asking.”
“Do, uh…do you think we’ll ever get this right?”
“What? Us?”
“Yeah, us.”
“Couldn’t say,” Ethan shrugged. “But it’s worth trying every time.”
“How many times should we really try though? I mean, uh,” Spencer sighed a touch, “how many times before we decide it’s never going to work?”
“Just one more, like always.”
Spencer smiled into the phone. "Keep in touch?"
"Of course." Ethan smiled just as much on his end.
"What we call despair is often only the painful eagerness of unfed hope." ~ George Eliot
Previous Sections:
Diagnosing the Disease
Breaking the Bonds
Shaky Control
Reality of Escape
Ill Judgment
The Memorial Nightmare
Painfully Numb
One Slip
Degrees of Sin
Dirty Clean
Avoid the Unavoidable
Reenact the Act
A Bullet and a Twist: Part 1
A Bullet and a Twist: Part 2
Serenity Swallowed
Line in the Circle
Stand to Crash
Escape and Burn
Green With Tension
Triggers of Lust
Apathy As Disguise: Part 1
Author: Tooks
Pairing: Hotch/Reid, Reid/Ethan
Rating: FRAO
Summary: When neither Hotch nor Ethan can keep hiding how they feel it's up to Reid to make a tough decision...one that will affect them all.
Notes: This is AU but there are Season 5 spoilers!! Second part of Piece 20 of my "Breaking the Bonds" series. There's cursing, drunkenness, references to drug usage and sexual activity, physical violence, and, as always, angst. (Ethan was Reid's friend from Season 2's "Jones".) This is pretty much the end of this particular story...More tales will come in this world, I'm sure, but I don't know what, exactly, they will be - when I do, you will too though, haha!
Maybe it was the night in total, maybe it was Spencer’s clear manipulation of him, or maybe it was just the cocaine, but Ethan found his mouth shooting off once in the parking lot. “That lil’ bite I left on Spencer musta really got under your skin.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hotch replied curtly.
“No?” Ethan followed the man to his SUV and slipped in to block the driver’s side door. “You really think Reid didn’t call me on it? Considering how he was on the phone I’m gonna guess you flipped your shit, didn’t ya? I told Spencer you were the jealous type, he ain’t even yours and you’re jealous.”
Hotch stared back, but said nothing.
“Ya wanna know what really bothers me, Hotchner?”
“No.”
“It’s that he actually thinks you’re a good option. Can you believe?” Ethan almost snorted his laugh. “His fuckin’ closet-case boss. A man so deep in denial about what he wants that his entire…being is a disguise.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“But I do, Hotchner, I really do.”
“Get the fuck away from me.” Hotch made an attempt for the door, but Ethan stopped it with a hand to his chest. Aaron grabbed the man’s wrist to pull him out of his way. Problem was, even with his training, he was still very drunk…and Ethan knew how to fight.
He let Hotch have his wrist and used the bond, along with his superior footing, to switch their positions. Ethan shoved the other man into the SUV slightly as he twisted away from the hold and then slammed his hand next to Hotch's head so that the agent actually gave a slight flinch.
Aaron didn’t realize that the drinks had effected him so heavily until his head spun as his back hit the car and a brief wave of nausea came with Ethan’s pound on the metal door. The agent found himself stunned as he looked at the other man, began to take in the features of Ethan’s face as he spoke.
“I fucked up a lot with Spencer, I know that, but I’ve always been honest about who I am. You’re too cowardly to even admit that much to yourself. I’ll do anything for him and you’re too weak to even take a single good look in the mirror. How the fuck is that fair? You tell me that.”
When he first met Ethan Aaron thought his appearance to be that of some dirty musician, someone who didn’t give a damn, but now he saw that wasn’t the case at all. Everything about the man was intentional; from the worn in, but slightly expensive, clothes to the relaxed, appealing, manner in which Ethan moved and settled. The hair was long, yes, but clean (even smelled of shampoo) and facial hair well-groomed to soften a strong jaw. A jaw that led to lips that, when not smiling, were nearly as full as Spencer’s and let out liquor-sweet breaths in soft huffs.
“Your accent’s fake,” Hotch blurted out.
Ethan’s lips thinned out into a smirk, a smile, and then a laugh. “What?”
“It’s fake…your whole persona is.”
“That so?”
“You grew up with Spencer, you should have his accent, but you don’t. You’re a jazz musician, you play small clubs and probably don't make much from them, but you have expensive clothes and keep up on your grooming.”
“You keep this up I’m gonna start thinkin’ you’re hittin’ on me.”
“You disguise yourself, slip into this Southern charmer act, but that’s not who you are.”
“Then tell me, closet-case, who am I?”
“Stop calling me that.”
“What? Closet-case?” Ethan made the cocky smirk Aaron had fast grown to loathe.
Aaron shoved Ethan hard, but the man only laughed a touch as he stepped back a moment before stepping forward once again and shoving Aaron right back.
“Com’on, Aaron,” Ethan teased out the man’s first name as he crowded closer, as close as he had in the bathroom. “Straight guys don’t look at other guys the way you do, they don’t get jealous when one of their guy friends has someone in their lives, they don’t watch other guys’ mouths so intensely, and they really, really, don’t let other guys give them blowjobs.”
It was like the bell went off in a boxing round or The Jerry Springer Show. Aaron lunged and swung, Ethan dodged and shoved, and they were at it with very little grace but more than enough aggression. The two men took shots at one another with the brutality of UFC fighters going for the championship and neither seemed all that inclined to call any sort of truce.
The only thing that kept the cops from being called was the head bartender who could sense a fight a mile away and happened to be friendly with Ethan. Along with a few of the staff he went outside and pulled the two men apart before there was a real scene or any permanent damage done.
Ethan spat out the blood lingering in his mouth and paced as he assured those around him that he was fine and had no intention of continuing the street brawl. Hotch, on the other hand, ignored the thick, red, stream running by his right eye in favor of attempting to shove those holding him back off…with liquor and adrenaline still streaming hard and fast he wanted to go another round or two.
“Hey!” Gil, the bartender, boomed loud enough to finally catch the agent’s attention. “Knock it off!”
“He started it!” Aaron blurted out like every kid ever to get into a fight.
“I don’t give a flyin’ fuck who started it, it ends now,” Gil insisted before turning to Ethan. “Ya’ll right, E?”
“Yeah,” Ethan spat out a touch more blood. “Fine.” He was still panting hard and fast, still pacing, but compared to Aaron he was calm.
“Maybe ya oughta head on home?”
“Make sure Hotchner here doesn’t drive, he’s a real light-weight.”
Gil smiled a little. “Compared to you everyone’s a light-weight.”
The musician laughed a bit. “Here’s his keys,” Ethan tossed the keys he’d lifted in the midst of the battle to the bartender. “He’s stayin’ at America’s Best Value Inn in Gretna, get ‘im a cab. I’ll call my fella, his friend, let ‘im know what happened and to come pick up the car.”
Hotch lunged before being pushed back once again.
***
Spencer paced outside the hotel as he waited, scratching his arm and chin before harshly rubbing his face as he did. He could barely contain the nervous and angry energy he had. He had asked Ethan to do something very simple, find Aaron, and it ended in a brawl. Spencer’s fingers, his nails, returned to his arm with renewed vigor.
Of course! Of course it ended in a brawl! They were two Alpha-males on substances that caused them to behave like children and, lately, neither exactly needed the help being immature. Maybe he should just be lucky the two men didn’t seriously hurt each other, but he wasn’t. He was pissed and nervous…nervous the men would fall back on old addictions; nervous he’d do the same.
Reid stopped scratching when he felt his nails tear up skin. His hiss melted into the sound of a cab pulling up, but Reid didn’t approach it. He hung back and waited for Aaron to climb out and storm over the best he could in his drunken, slightly beaten, state. Spencer made a point of speaking first.
“Rossi already switched with me so your room’s the same.”
Hotch had been prepared to go off on his subordinate, but something in Reid’s tone stopped him. It made him want to apologize. “Reid,” he looked down. “Spencer, you don’t have to switch rooms.”
“No, uh, I really do,” Spencer insisted before he gave a sigh. “We, uh…we should talk.” It wasn’t a request as he went to sit on a bench and Aaron followed. It was something he’d hoped he wouldn’t have to do, but knew he did. He took a deep breath as he shook his head a touch and let Aaron get settled awkwardly beside him. “This…isn’t working.”
“What isn’t working?” Aaron felt his blood slow in his veins; he could barely look up at the other man. The man he’d grown closer to and to care about more than he ever thought possible.
“Whatever this is between us.” Reid bit his lip a touch. “I love working at the BAU, I love being part of this team and working for you, Aaron, but the rest…it, uh…it’s just…” Reid shrugged, “impossible.”
“So it’s Ethan then?” Hotch’s voice hardened around the edges as he tried not to show just how much that possibility hurt.
“No. I, uh…”
“I’m sorry, Spencer.” The hardness left the elder man swiftly and he hung his head like a child.
Spencer set a hand on Aaron’s back, rubbed a touch. “It’s, uh…it’s not your fault. Not any more than it is mine.” He had worked so hard to help Aaron get clean, break the bonds of his addiction, that he hadn’t thought to look out not to become one himself. Reid set his hand back into his own lap. “I just, uh, know where this is going and…I don’t think any of us want to cause one another more pain. Sometimes it, uh…it’s best to just step away.”
Maybe that was what all those people who’d left Reid before thought…it was better to just step away. The only difference was this time it was Spencer who was the one taking the needed action. Spencer was the person stepping away and now he realized that it didn't hurt any else on this end.
Aaron took in a deep, ragged, breath. “I want you to know that I…appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Spencer. I know it wasn’t easy.”
“It was worth it though,” Spencer smiled just a touch and took one of Aaron’s cut-up hands. “I care about you.”
“I care about you too.” The confession came out soft and low with the gentle squeezing of the hand Spencer held.
“I know.”
The two men shared a brief, sad, smile.
“I want you to stay on the team. I don’t want you to go.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Aaron. Not really.”
“I really fucked this all up, didn’t I?”
Spencer couldn’t stop the slight curling up of his lips. “We all did.”
***
The first time they’d parted ways it’d been as subtle as Ethan slipping into the world of illicit substances and illegal activities thus leaving young Spencer on his own. This time…this time it was as subtle as Hotch and Ethan’s fight with Reid nearly exploding with years of pent up anger.
For a good hour or two they argued; threw blame around and brought up past hurts buried over the years and never before addressed. By the time it was over Spencer had called Ethan a fucking druggie infant and Ethan informed Spencer that sucking off Hotch wasn’t good therapy for his daddy issues. It was Reid who hung up first and refused to pick up each time the other called back even after he knew Ethan just wanted to apologize.
It wasn’t until three days later, the case Reid and Hotch both threw their focus into now over, that Spencer called his long-time friend once again.
“Too early,” Ethan grumbled into the phone despite having answered it on the first ring…despite having clearly been waiting for the call.
“Don’t you ever get up before noon?” Spencer smiled, happy to already fall back into their old riffs. Relieved Ethan picked up at all.
“Not unless I gotta,” Ethan laughed back as he sat up. “I’m glad you called.”
“I, uh…I didn’t want to leave things, well, uh…”
“Like they’d been left?” Ethan offered.
“Yeah.”
“Don’t worry about it, Spencer.”
Reid sighed. “The things I said to you, they, uh…they weren’t fair.”
“Since when did we ever treat each other fair?” Ethan pointed out as accurately as Spencer had the night before. “Sorry I was an asshole.”
“I was too.”
“No more than I was.”
“You know I, uh, still care about you right?”
Ethan smiled into the phone. “A question that doesn’t need asking.”
“Do, uh…do you think we’ll ever get this right?”
“What? Us?”
“Yeah, us.”
“Couldn’t say,” Ethan shrugged. “But it’s worth trying every time.”
“How many times should we really try though? I mean, uh,” Spencer sighed a touch, “how many times before we decide it’s never going to work?”
“Just one more, like always.”
Spencer smiled into the phone. "Keep in touch?"
"Of course." Ethan smiled just as much on his end.
"What we call despair is often only the painful eagerness of unfed hope." ~ George Eliot
Previous Sections:
Diagnosing the Disease
Breaking the Bonds
Shaky Control
Reality of Escape
Ill Judgment
The Memorial Nightmare
Painfully Numb
One Slip
Degrees of Sin
Dirty Clean
Avoid the Unavoidable
Reenact the Act
A Bullet and a Twist: Part 1
A Bullet and a Twist: Part 2
Serenity Swallowed
Line in the Circle
Stand to Crash
Escape and Burn
Green With Tension
Triggers of Lust
Apathy As Disguise: Part 1