Ill Judgment [FanFic]
Title: Ill Judgment
Author: Tooks
Pairing: Hotch/Reid
Rating: FRT
Summary: Judgments can be very wrong, even between those close.
Notes: This is AU but there are Season 5 spoilers!! Part 5 of my "Breaking the Bonds" series...it's been a LONG time coming (sorry!!), I hope it's at least mildly worth it.
Hotch woke slowly with a series of groans as his limbs felt like sacks weighing his whole body down. The relapse that allowed him to sleep so well, so deeply, was now keeping him from really waking. It took all his strength to lift his lids up and then eyes over to the clock. It was 10:45AM. “Jesus,” Hotch muttered as he did his best to get himself to sit up without having his head explode like it threatened to do, “we’re late.”
“Actually we aren’t,” Reid commented smoothly from his bed where he sat surrounded by files.
“Excuse me?”
Reid looked over at the mess of a man Hotch was and sighed, looking back down at the case-file currently in his lap, “I told Morgan you weren’t feeling well and would be staying here.”
“You had no right to do that!” It was pure anger that got Hotch to his feet. Who was Reid to make those kinds of decisions? He was still Hotch’s subordinate.
“Would you rather I have told him you relapsed?” Reid looked up at Hotch’s glaring face, but he wasn’t scared. This wasn’t Hotch, not really, it was a mixture of the man’s pride and the drugs. “Explain to him how you became an addict and that this is all part of the process?”
For the briefest moment Hotch thought of hitting Reid. Not hard, nothing to cause severe damage, just a pop in the mouth to express his anger and get the younger agent to shut up. He decided to stick with a verbal argument for the moment though, “You know, if I wanted to, I could just leave.”
“Sure,” Reid concurred before adding, “but not to go to the team. They all think you have the stomach flu, they aren’t going to want to be around you.”
“But you do?”
“I wanna help you.”
“Is that all you want?” Hotch raised a suspicious brow. He couldn’t explain why, couldn’t possibly understand how the drive for the drugs was making him think such a thing, but Hotch got a suddenly strange feeling helping wasn’t Reid’s main goal.
Reid wasn’t surprised at the question exactly, some people grew paranoid with drug abuse, he was simply surprised Hotch had actually gone ahead and asked it. He smiled a little awkwardly, “You’re, uh…you’re not exactly my type, Hotch.”
“Oh, so you do like women?” Hotch found the words coming without control, flying like he wanted his fists to just moments before.
Reid couldn’t help but to laugh a touch. “I like who I like, the gender is rather irrelevant,” the man confessed matter-of-factly.
Something about the easy honesty of the other man’s reply caused a wave of weakness to wash over Hotch just before a wave of nausea caused by the drugs did the same. It beat out the anger and the agent was forced to sit on his bed, hunched over with his head in his hands as he contemplated if the feeling would pass on its own or he needed to run to the lavatory. A jolt ran from his stomach up his throat and he was in the bathroom, kicking the door shut, just in time.
***
Reid remained seated on the bed, looking over files, as Hotch emptied his stomach contents. He only looked up when he heard the bathroom door open slowly, hesitantly. “Feel better?”
“Not even close,” Hotch confessed, unsure if he really wanted to leave the safety of the toilet yet. Still, he felt the need to apologize “Reid?”
“Hm?”
“I’m sorry for…for prying before.”
“It’s fine Hotch.”
“No, it’s not,” the fellow agent stated firmly, “I have no right to discuss, or even ask about, your…private life.”
The younger man slowly smiled, “Well, it’s not exactly a new experience for me, Hotch. I mean I’m not married and I’m not like Morgan so…” he shrugged thinking the conclusion of the thought was obvious. People assumed he was a homosexual. It stopped bothering him by the end of his teens.
Seeing Reid seemed neither overly hurt or cross with him, and with his stomach now being cooperative, Hotch stepped out of the bathroom and headed over to his bed. “But you,” he wanted to word this carefully, as carefully as he took each step in his weakened state, “you know that, no matter what, I…I wouldn’t…judge you.”
“Judge me?”
“Based on…who you…”
“Are attracted to?’ Reid offered to finish what was clearly an awkward sentence for the man to get out. The young genius smiled softly, “I know, Hotch.” His superior might’ve been a straight up Alpha male but he wasn’t the type to discriminate against others based on things like that.
Despite wanting to sit up and appear completely together as always Hotch found himself lying on his side on his hotel bed. “So…I’m really not your type?” the man blurted out without even thinking fully. While he’d intended it to be a joke of sorts he immediately regretted saying anything at all because he knew he really wanted to know. He really wasn’t Reid’s type? Not that he thought he should be or anything of that sort; Hotch never considered himself anything close to “a catch” on any level to anyone, heck he considered himself unimaginably lucky to have gotten Haley. But he always pictured, male or female, Reid would be attracted to more dominant types, those who were older, more firmly in charge, and could play the “Mommy/Daddy” role. Hotch imagined that was a type he’d fit in Reid’s eyes. Was that not the case? Was that not who Reid was attracted to? If so then who was Reid’s type? The curiosity lingered in his mind from the moment Reid had commented that he, Hotch, wasn’t the younger man’s type but had intentionally been vague on his orientation.
“Excuse me?” This question threw Reid wildly off-kilter. This wasn’t Hotch trying to antagonize, profile, or belittle him like before. And though the tone was as a joke, a gentle, light-hearted, tease, Reid got the sense there was something more behind the question. That Hotch really wanted to know.
“Nothing, never mind,” Hotch mumbled quickly. The senior agent had already pried far too much in the past day or two and it wasn’t his business. Reid’s private life was none of his business. “Perhaps we should,” he cleared his throat with a face of disgust as he wished he’d rinsed out his mouth better before exiting the bathroom, “work on the profile some?” Get off the topic of one another’s personal life despite the strange urge starting to grow inside him of wanting to know more about his teammate.
Reid let the drastic topic change slide. “Are you sure you’re up to it?” Reid asked in genuine concern.
Hotch gave the firmest look he could muster, “If I don’t focus on the case I’ll end up focusing on how I feel and that’s about the last thing I want to focus on right now.”
“Very well.” …And so, for the next few hours, the two men worked on the profile the best they could. Reid made occasional calls to the team and Hotch took occasional breaks when his stomach revolted against him once more. It wasn’t an ideal way of working a case but Hotch found he was able to get more work done in the hotel with just Reid than he’d been able to while with the whole team out in the field while dealing with his withdrawals.
It wasn’t until Reid noticed Hotch’s eyes were fighting to stay open that he looked at the clock, then smiled as he set the corner’s reports to the side. “I think we should take a break.”
As if the suggestion itself triggered it, Hotch covered his mouth to fight an oncoming yawn. “We…” and then another, “we can’t take a break, Reid, we have what? A day, tow at the most, before the UNSUB starts hunting another victim. We…” another yawn, “need to get ahead of this guy.”
“The whole team is still working on this too,” Reid reminded gently, “and, uh, we’ve actually done a lot considering. I think it’d be better if you, well, um…rested for a bit. Maybe slept some?” He really didn’t want to say the word he was thinking.
But Hotch knew it. “Nap?” He gave a derisive snort. What did Reid take him for? A toddler? “I don’t nap, Reid.” He was a full-grown man, not a boy Jack’s age.
“Just like you don’t take baths?” Reid asked with a faint smirk, referring to the night before, “You know, this is why you’re not my type.” At this point Reid was just bringing up the topic to keep Hotch from trying to go back to work…maybe wear him down some more before suggesting he get some sleep once more. Rather like reading a story to a child before bedtime.
Hotch smiled despite himself, he also decided to allow himself a little indulging of his curiosity since Reid brough it up “Because I don’t take naps?”
“No, because you judge too quickly.” Reid watched Hotch’s smile fade and his face grow not just weary, but a little putout. “Not about people or anything but, uh…about…things.”
“Things?”
Reid didn’t answer right away as he thought on how to put into words what he meant. He shifted some to sit at the edge his bed on the side closet to Hotch. “Well…and this doesn’t count as profiling,” he clarified before continuing, “you’ve always struck me as the type that has a very set way of doing things and deviating from them is virtually unthinkable to you. I just,” he shrugged and smiled a bit more, “find that very boring.”
“You find me boring?”
“No.”
Hotch smiled a touch, “Just how I do things.”
“It’s not a judgment, Hotch, it’s a matter of preference. I prefer to allow for a flow in my private life and in being around those who do the same when I socialize outside the office. I, uh…don’t think you do.”
“You think I’m rigid?”
Reid’s lips puckered and ticked to the side of his mouth a moment before he confessed, “This is not coming out the way I intended.” Though Hotch wasn’t too far off. Reid imagined (when healthy and of sound mind) Hotch to be the type that set out his clothes ahead of time, had the same morning and nighttime routine, and would even make love the same way. He was sure it wasn’t a problem for Hotch, that the man found solace in a sense of predictability that couldn’t exist in their chaotic career. Reid was just different. He liked a little randomness and clutter in his life; after all the reason he loved Halloween for it’s unpredictable nature - normal rules no longer applied, it was a playful free-for-all.
“I’m being too sensitive,” Hotch worried aloud as he looked down some.
Reid found an entry point back to what he really wanted to discuss, the true task at hand. He gave a sympathetic sigh, “You’re just drained, Hotch. Withdrawals wear you out far more rapidly than normal and, if you run down your body on top of that, the withdrawals will only be worse.”
“Is this your way of trying to convince me to nap?” Hotch was exhausted, not slow-witted.
“Something like that,” Reid smiled a touch, “Look, I’ll give you a pill and you can get some sleep or just lay there, but either way we’re stopping for now.”
“What will you do?”
“Actually I’ll likely continue to work some,“ Reid confessed with a small smile.
“If you’re working than I am.” Hotch insisted before going to stifle yet another yawn. “And don’t even bother arguing because I won’t be able to rest knowing you’re in the room working,” he then looked Reid right in the eye despite the decreasing ability to even keep his lids open all the way, “You should know that.”
“Then I guess I’ll just take a break too,” Reid countered, his smile still on his face. He was wiling to at least until Hotch was asleep or otherwise unaware of what Reid was or wasn’t doing.
“But will you nap?” Hotch joked some.
Reid faked an indignant look, “Nap?” then a jokingly over-the-top snort, “I don’t nap, Hotch.”
The two men shared a small laugh.
"Do not condemn the judgment of another because it differs from your own. You may both be wrong." ~ Dandemis
Next Section:
The Memorial Nightmare
Previous Sections:
Diagnosing the Disease
Breaking the Bonds
Shaky Control
Reality of Escape
Author: Tooks
Pairing: Hotch/Reid
Rating: FRT
Summary: Judgments can be very wrong, even between those close.
Notes: This is AU but there are Season 5 spoilers!! Part 5 of my "Breaking the Bonds" series...it's been a LONG time coming (sorry!!), I hope it's at least mildly worth it.
Hotch woke slowly with a series of groans as his limbs felt like sacks weighing his whole body down. The relapse that allowed him to sleep so well, so deeply, was now keeping him from really waking. It took all his strength to lift his lids up and then eyes over to the clock. It was 10:45AM. “Jesus,” Hotch muttered as he did his best to get himself to sit up without having his head explode like it threatened to do, “we’re late.”
“Actually we aren’t,” Reid commented smoothly from his bed where he sat surrounded by files.
“Excuse me?”
Reid looked over at the mess of a man Hotch was and sighed, looking back down at the case-file currently in his lap, “I told Morgan you weren’t feeling well and would be staying here.”
“You had no right to do that!” It was pure anger that got Hotch to his feet. Who was Reid to make those kinds of decisions? He was still Hotch’s subordinate.
“Would you rather I have told him you relapsed?” Reid looked up at Hotch’s glaring face, but he wasn’t scared. This wasn’t Hotch, not really, it was a mixture of the man’s pride and the drugs. “Explain to him how you became an addict and that this is all part of the process?”
For the briefest moment Hotch thought of hitting Reid. Not hard, nothing to cause severe damage, just a pop in the mouth to express his anger and get the younger agent to shut up. He decided to stick with a verbal argument for the moment though, “You know, if I wanted to, I could just leave.”
“Sure,” Reid concurred before adding, “but not to go to the team. They all think you have the stomach flu, they aren’t going to want to be around you.”
“But you do?”
“I wanna help you.”
“Is that all you want?” Hotch raised a suspicious brow. He couldn’t explain why, couldn’t possibly understand how the drive for the drugs was making him think such a thing, but Hotch got a suddenly strange feeling helping wasn’t Reid’s main goal.
Reid wasn’t surprised at the question exactly, some people grew paranoid with drug abuse, he was simply surprised Hotch had actually gone ahead and asked it. He smiled a little awkwardly, “You’re, uh…you’re not exactly my type, Hotch.”
“Oh, so you do like women?” Hotch found the words coming without control, flying like he wanted his fists to just moments before.
Reid couldn’t help but to laugh a touch. “I like who I like, the gender is rather irrelevant,” the man confessed matter-of-factly.
Something about the easy honesty of the other man’s reply caused a wave of weakness to wash over Hotch just before a wave of nausea caused by the drugs did the same. It beat out the anger and the agent was forced to sit on his bed, hunched over with his head in his hands as he contemplated if the feeling would pass on its own or he needed to run to the lavatory. A jolt ran from his stomach up his throat and he was in the bathroom, kicking the door shut, just in time.
***
Reid remained seated on the bed, looking over files, as Hotch emptied his stomach contents. He only looked up when he heard the bathroom door open slowly, hesitantly. “Feel better?”
“Not even close,” Hotch confessed, unsure if he really wanted to leave the safety of the toilet yet. Still, he felt the need to apologize “Reid?”
“Hm?”
“I’m sorry for…for prying before.”
“It’s fine Hotch.”
“No, it’s not,” the fellow agent stated firmly, “I have no right to discuss, or even ask about, your…private life.”
The younger man slowly smiled, “Well, it’s not exactly a new experience for me, Hotch. I mean I’m not married and I’m not like Morgan so…” he shrugged thinking the conclusion of the thought was obvious. People assumed he was a homosexual. It stopped bothering him by the end of his teens.
Seeing Reid seemed neither overly hurt or cross with him, and with his stomach now being cooperative, Hotch stepped out of the bathroom and headed over to his bed. “But you,” he wanted to word this carefully, as carefully as he took each step in his weakened state, “you know that, no matter what, I…I wouldn’t…judge you.”
“Judge me?”
“Based on…who you…”
“Are attracted to?’ Reid offered to finish what was clearly an awkward sentence for the man to get out. The young genius smiled softly, “I know, Hotch.” His superior might’ve been a straight up Alpha male but he wasn’t the type to discriminate against others based on things like that.
Despite wanting to sit up and appear completely together as always Hotch found himself lying on his side on his hotel bed. “So…I’m really not your type?” the man blurted out without even thinking fully. While he’d intended it to be a joke of sorts he immediately regretted saying anything at all because he knew he really wanted to know. He really wasn’t Reid’s type? Not that he thought he should be or anything of that sort; Hotch never considered himself anything close to “a catch” on any level to anyone, heck he considered himself unimaginably lucky to have gotten Haley. But he always pictured, male or female, Reid would be attracted to more dominant types, those who were older, more firmly in charge, and could play the “Mommy/Daddy” role. Hotch imagined that was a type he’d fit in Reid’s eyes. Was that not the case? Was that not who Reid was attracted to? If so then who was Reid’s type? The curiosity lingered in his mind from the moment Reid had commented that he, Hotch, wasn’t the younger man’s type but had intentionally been vague on his orientation.
“Excuse me?” This question threw Reid wildly off-kilter. This wasn’t Hotch trying to antagonize, profile, or belittle him like before. And though the tone was as a joke, a gentle, light-hearted, tease, Reid got the sense there was something more behind the question. That Hotch really wanted to know.
“Nothing, never mind,” Hotch mumbled quickly. The senior agent had already pried far too much in the past day or two and it wasn’t his business. Reid’s private life was none of his business. “Perhaps we should,” he cleared his throat with a face of disgust as he wished he’d rinsed out his mouth better before exiting the bathroom, “work on the profile some?” Get off the topic of one another’s personal life despite the strange urge starting to grow inside him of wanting to know more about his teammate.
Reid let the drastic topic change slide. “Are you sure you’re up to it?” Reid asked in genuine concern.
Hotch gave the firmest look he could muster, “If I don’t focus on the case I’ll end up focusing on how I feel and that’s about the last thing I want to focus on right now.”
“Very well.” …And so, for the next few hours, the two men worked on the profile the best they could. Reid made occasional calls to the team and Hotch took occasional breaks when his stomach revolted against him once more. It wasn’t an ideal way of working a case but Hotch found he was able to get more work done in the hotel with just Reid than he’d been able to while with the whole team out in the field while dealing with his withdrawals.
It wasn’t until Reid noticed Hotch’s eyes were fighting to stay open that he looked at the clock, then smiled as he set the corner’s reports to the side. “I think we should take a break.”
As if the suggestion itself triggered it, Hotch covered his mouth to fight an oncoming yawn. “We…” and then another, “we can’t take a break, Reid, we have what? A day, tow at the most, before the UNSUB starts hunting another victim. We…” another yawn, “need to get ahead of this guy.”
“The whole team is still working on this too,” Reid reminded gently, “and, uh, we’ve actually done a lot considering. I think it’d be better if you, well, um…rested for a bit. Maybe slept some?” He really didn’t want to say the word he was thinking.
But Hotch knew it. “Nap?” He gave a derisive snort. What did Reid take him for? A toddler? “I don’t nap, Reid.” He was a full-grown man, not a boy Jack’s age.
“Just like you don’t take baths?” Reid asked with a faint smirk, referring to the night before, “You know, this is why you’re not my type.” At this point Reid was just bringing up the topic to keep Hotch from trying to go back to work…maybe wear him down some more before suggesting he get some sleep once more. Rather like reading a story to a child before bedtime.
Hotch smiled despite himself, he also decided to allow himself a little indulging of his curiosity since Reid brough it up “Because I don’t take naps?”
“No, because you judge too quickly.” Reid watched Hotch’s smile fade and his face grow not just weary, but a little putout. “Not about people or anything but, uh…about…things.”
“Things?”
Reid didn’t answer right away as he thought on how to put into words what he meant. He shifted some to sit at the edge his bed on the side closet to Hotch. “Well…and this doesn’t count as profiling,” he clarified before continuing, “you’ve always struck me as the type that has a very set way of doing things and deviating from them is virtually unthinkable to you. I just,” he shrugged and smiled a bit more, “find that very boring.”
“You find me boring?”
“No.”
Hotch smiled a touch, “Just how I do things.”
“It’s not a judgment, Hotch, it’s a matter of preference. I prefer to allow for a flow in my private life and in being around those who do the same when I socialize outside the office. I, uh…don’t think you do.”
“You think I’m rigid?”
Reid’s lips puckered and ticked to the side of his mouth a moment before he confessed, “This is not coming out the way I intended.” Though Hotch wasn’t too far off. Reid imagined (when healthy and of sound mind) Hotch to be the type that set out his clothes ahead of time, had the same morning and nighttime routine, and would even make love the same way. He was sure it wasn’t a problem for Hotch, that the man found solace in a sense of predictability that couldn’t exist in their chaotic career. Reid was just different. He liked a little randomness and clutter in his life; after all the reason he loved Halloween for it’s unpredictable nature - normal rules no longer applied, it was a playful free-for-all.
“I’m being too sensitive,” Hotch worried aloud as he looked down some.
Reid found an entry point back to what he really wanted to discuss, the true task at hand. He gave a sympathetic sigh, “You’re just drained, Hotch. Withdrawals wear you out far more rapidly than normal and, if you run down your body on top of that, the withdrawals will only be worse.”
“Is this your way of trying to convince me to nap?” Hotch was exhausted, not slow-witted.
“Something like that,” Reid smiled a touch, “Look, I’ll give you a pill and you can get some sleep or just lay there, but either way we’re stopping for now.”
“What will you do?”
“Actually I’ll likely continue to work some,“ Reid confessed with a small smile.
“If you’re working than I am.” Hotch insisted before going to stifle yet another yawn. “And don’t even bother arguing because I won’t be able to rest knowing you’re in the room working,” he then looked Reid right in the eye despite the decreasing ability to even keep his lids open all the way, “You should know that.”
“Then I guess I’ll just take a break too,” Reid countered, his smile still on his face. He was wiling to at least until Hotch was asleep or otherwise unaware of what Reid was or wasn’t doing.
“But will you nap?” Hotch joked some.
Reid faked an indignant look, “Nap?” then a jokingly over-the-top snort, “I don’t nap, Hotch.”
The two men shared a small laugh.
"Do not condemn the judgment of another because it differs from your own. You may both be wrong." ~ Dandemis
Next Section:
The Memorial Nightmare
Previous Sections:
Diagnosing the Disease
Breaking the Bonds
Shaky Control
Reality of Escape