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#awful hospital spoilers

organical-mechanical · 1 month

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@bogleech

It is so, so incredibly rare for me to just devour a piece of fiction.

Even with the fiction that I enjoy, I never really find myself getting truly invested.

Awful Hospital is one of those rare instances where my eyes were glued to every single word— almost every other page acknowledged something that I either thought a lot about as a kid (and heard no one else talk about) or something think about now

Anyway, the idea of the same guy coming back to life over and over again in a different (but formulaic) manner, fully aware that he’s been revived but unaware that things have been slightly rearranged is something that had been on my mind for YEARS but never really articulated, so… here are some Jays (and the accompanying slobs; not to scale)

ANKLE FRACTURE + TASER

I had a really hard time figuring out what sort of weapon you could reasonably use alongside crutches. It was either gonna be a steel-toed boot or a taser, and since he already had something chunky on his other foot, I decided that a taser would be more clear design-wise.

JAW FRACTURE + BRASS KNUCKLES

Let’s face it. Jaw wiring looks freaky as hell.

In my mind, this one is sick of having to punch food to a pulp to be able to squeeze it past his teeth.

SKULL FRACTURE + SLEDGEHAMMER

The combination just felt right.

#awful hospital #awful hospital spoilers

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ineffably-human · 6 months

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I'm gonna need Izzy's force ghost to just straight up haunt their inn, though. Just hang around snarking and giving unsolicited advice and benignly frightening their guests.

"Figures you don't know how to seal a window, Bonnet, the damp's going to rot through the fucking walls."

"I didn't get shot by the English so you twats could kill yourselves eating whatever you foraged off a bush, is that what you're going to serve to people?"

"I couldn't help but notice you were going to leave Jeff's Inn and Bar and Grill and Fishery without paying. I'll give you a minute to rethink it before I haunt every moment of your miserable - there we are. Hope you've enjoyed your stay."

#fandom: ofmd #ofmd spoilers #when he's not pretending he knows the hospitality business he also gives awful relationship advice

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catcze · 7 months

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Spoilers for Wriothesley's backstory !! References to leaks of his backstory !!

When Wriothesley was younger and homeless on the streets of Fontaine, an orphan who ran from his foster home to fend for himself, there was no one for him to rely on. It was a dog-eat-dog world, and putting your trust in the wrong person could result in lying facedown in a ditch, just another casualty of the city.

Wriothesley was prepared to fight for himself for the rest of his life. Was prepared to sleep with one eye open, and ready to get stabbed in the back at any second. Everyone around him wouldn't cast him a second glance and wouldn't offer him a shred of help.

No one, maybe, except for you.

You were around his age— that much was evident from the first day he met you, when you found him crouched in an alleyway half-starved and soaked through by the rain. You were kind, if the umbrella you covered his head with was any indication. You had gotten soaked yourself, but you still smiled at him and told him to keep it, that he needed it more.

And lastly: you were born into good, good money. He found that out the next day when you bought him a packaged meal of warm meats and bread. Although he was hesitant to accept your kindness, cautious of what price you would attach to such a thing, the grumbling of his stomach won out and he finished the whole meal in less than five minutes. It was one of the best things he had ever tasted.

You said nothing as you sat beside him, uncaring of how the dirt of the sidewalk stained your clothes. When he was finished, you offered him a bottle of water. As he chugged it down, you gave him your first name, and when he hesitated to tell you his, you smiled and shook your head.

"It's fine, you don't have to tell me," you told him with a slight smile. And that was that.

From then on, you find him every few days at the same spot. He doesn't talk much, you discover, but he's always willing to listen to you talk. Anything under the sun— your lessons, your absent parents, the droves of socialites who try to butter you up with hollow words and false admiration— you can ramble about it for hours and hours and he'll sit beside you, interjecting on occasion, but generally letting you take the lead in conversation.

Once, you brought him a canister filled with tea, and watched as his eyes lit up at his first taste.

"This is some really good stuff," he told you, awe in his voice, already going for a second sip. You smile, seeing him so pleased.

"I'll bring you more next time. I'll try to make a different brew, too, to see if you'd like that even more."

When he gets scuffed from street fights, you're there to patch him up. Clumsily at first, with a furrowed brow and tangled strips of bandages, but you get better and better at it over time. He doesn't reject the help, and you don't scold him for getting hurt. It is times like these where your hands —only calloused by the grip of a pen and nothing more, unlike his that are so scarred and rough— make you both remember how different your worlds are.

One day, you go to the place you two had been meeting for nearly a year now, and it's empty. That's not particularly unusual— it's happened once or twice before where your friend couldn't make it, so it's no cause for concern. You merely leave the food and water in a little nook he had shown you before, and make your way home, hoping that he's alright and not too banged up.

When you get home, the maids and the butler all tell you of a recent incident that happened not too far away in the city— of an assault and a mangled body, of the perpetrator on death's door himself, barely rushed to the hospital in time. While you have dinner alone, they urge you to exercise caution if you go out tomorrow.

So you take heed of their words, bringing a new platter of food and hide small knife in your pocket as you head back to the same place yesterday. The food and water from before is still there, hidden in the little nook only the two of you know of.

Anxiety grips you, but you try to shake it off. You return the next day. And the next. And the next. Each day, the food you leave remains untouched every time.

You fear the worst after a week is up— you fear for his safety, for his health. You fear for the only genuine friend you had ever made, who had seen you as more than just your parents' only child. You don't leave your room for a week, poring over the newspaper and anything else you can get your hands on. The househelp thinks you're ill— and you are. You're sick with worry, sick with the late nights spent up as you stretch yourself thin trying to find something, anything about him. But when your parents learn of your seclusion, you're forced to give up your search. In the end, you're the only one left to remember the nameless boy with the soft smile and a love for tea.

It is years and years down the line. Wriothesley had been doing well as the administrator of the fortress— so much so that he had been invited to the Palais Mermonia to receive the title of Duke. He had barely managed to sidestep a grand investiture ceremony, instead opting to sign, take the relevant certificates, and be done with it.

When he enters the office of the Iudex, he's met with the man himself and a surprisingly familiar face. One that he had never forgotten, even on days where the ground threatened to crumble underneath him and the walls of his prison cell felt like they were closing in.

Your eyes blow wide, your grip on the documents threatening to rip the papers, and he doesn't miss the slight wobble in your lip as you gaze at him.

"Good afternoon, I'm pleased that you could join us," says the Iudex. He sweeps one hand in your direction. "This is one of our top attorneys,assigned to assist with the processing of your documents and certificates."

Wriothesley smiles, wider than he has in a long, long time, and reaches a hand out for you to grasp.

"Hi," he says, never taking his eyes on your face. He squeezes your hand and feels you tremble in his hold. "My name is Wriothesley. It's nice to meet you."

#astronetwrk #「 🐈‍⬛ 」 catcze.desserts #wriothesley x reader #genshin impact x reader #cw gn reader #Cw Genshin spoilers #Cw Genshin leaks #Wriothesley #genshin impact #When i tell you this started as a thought of 'oh what if the reader is the reason he likes tea so much'#and then. Next thing I know I've been sitting in my chair for half an hour typing this shit up.

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willmelon · 2 years

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oooooh what’s this on bogleech’s awful hospital redbubble collection hm?? is that a bDaObGy i spy?

#idk if this is spoilers or not or if it's from something else #worth the post though right?#awful hospital

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daisydaisybilly · 5 months

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Wild flowers | s.p

pairing: Sejanus x gn!reader

summary: Sejanus finds you in the meadow

warnings: mainly fluff, small mentions of the games and some light spoilers for the movie and book

word count: 800

a/n: saw the movie a few nights ago and wow, I’m me fashion i did like the book better but the movie was still amazing and I have the old therebefore on repeat . I wrote this for my bestie because she couldn’t find Sejanus fics. This probably could be edited better

MAIN MASTERLIST | REQUEST OPEN

The summer air was sweet, the flowers of the meadow had bloomed overnight, as far as the eye could see. Lily of the valley, young primeroses , deep purple violets, and dozens more you couldn’t name.

Hidden behind a massive tree, its leaves shading you from the harsh sun. This time of year in district 12 was unbearable. Only the rich could afford to keep cool, and you certainly wasn’t that.

Six days out of the week you worked in the local doctor’s. It couldn’t quite be called a hospital but it was one of the only places people could go and get medical care.

You lent back against the tree, weaving your hands through the tall grass and flowers. Bees buzzed but gave no mind to you. The day was turning out well, you had brought some fresh bakers bread and a lump of cheese, and a jug of water. Simple and delicious.

The mockingjays song hit your ears, the tune was familiar but the name escaped you. Humming along, some words came to mind.

Here it's safe, here it's warm

Here the daisies guard you from every harm

Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true

Here is the place where I love you

Deep in the meadow, a song a local brand was known to play, you had only seen them a handful of times but the songs stuck. Like it had for the birds.

The sound of stones falling and fallen twigs snapping pulled you out of a dream and jumping to your feet, frowning in the sunlight you spotted, Sejanus Plinth.

Sejanus had been a peacekeeper once but shortly after he had found his way to the doctors, where he was training to be a medic. He rarely spoke about this life before 12 but from the times he had (and from what the doctors said) he came from a rich family in the capitol.

“You following me, Sejanus?” you asked. Your tone was serious, his whole body went still. Then you laughed. “Come sit with me then, might even share my food with you”.

In his hand he carried a brown paper bag, “then I guess you can have some of mine”. He dropped the bag in your lap, opening the bag you found cookies.

Now this was proof he was rich, the baker sold cookies but only the other merchants could afford them Sejanus went on to explain, his Ma had sent them, blushing the whole time.

The shy blushed look made you laugh, “that’s very sweet of her, she must miss you an awful lot”.

“Just as I miss her” he replied in a sad voice.

“You might see her again, learn enough and you could go back to her” you said, laying a hand over his. His hands were cold, cold hands warm heart you mama used to say.

“I don’t want to go back there” he said.

What you said next came as a surprise to even her, “I can teach you a few things, like what plants heal and where to find them”.

“You’d do that” he asked unsure.

“Of course. We don’t have many doctors here and if you’re planning on staying I’d teach you”. You stood, putting the cookies on your bag. “There’s a lake deeper in the woods, you’ll find all the best stuff there”.

He followed and stood up looking through the trees, maybe he didn’t trust you and thought you were leading him to his death.

“Hey” you touched his hand again, “keep north and you’ll find the lake then it’s south to get back, you can trust me”.

He smiled and suddenly the sun seemed dimmer, he took your hand and squeezed it ,“okay, I trust you”.

The hike took a few hours, but the sight of the lake proved it was worth it. You found a patch of herbs close by one of the old houses, it might have been someone’s garden once.

You showed him peppermint that helped with nausea, liquorice to reduce swelling, lemon balm for sleep and any others you could make without the book of herbs and flowers you had at home.

“Where did you learn all this?” He rubbed a peppermint leaf between his finger and thumb. You pick a lemon Balm inhaling the smell, smiling.

“My mama was an apothecary, always been my dream to follow in her footsteps. What about you? Do you have any dreams?”.

“To help people anyway I can”

It was so easy to talk to him, somewhere in your heart you knew he’d understand. Maybe it was his eyes, brown the colour of chocolate. Sejanus was sweet, too sweet for the world, you thought that if it rained he’d melt away like sugar.

“I have a feeling you’re gonna do wonderful things Sejanus” I smiled and he smiled back.

#the hunger games #a ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games fanfic #a ballad of songbirds and snakes fanfiction #sejanus plinth #sejanus plinth x reader #sejanus plinth fanfiction #sejanus x reader #senjanus fanfiction #gn!reader #hunger games gn!reader

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qsphyxias · 10 months

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if you read yaoi and/or bl regularly as a woman, get the fuck out of here!

synopsis ; miguel x male! reader

warnings ; male reader, cussing, no spoilers from the movie other than his existence

note ; that movie fucked me up ong, what the actual FUCK MARVEL HAD NO FUCKNG RIGHT TO DO THAT WHAT?? WHY IS HE SO BEAUTIFUL I STOOD IN A HOSPITAL WAITING ROOM FOR 20 MINUTES WATCHING MIGUEL EDIT COMPILATIONS. ON YOUTUBE. oh fun surprise at the end

words ; 0.5k +

"that's odd." you spoke to no one in particular, your chin resting on the back of your hand as you examined the back of miguel's... well, his rear.

"great." miguel huffed, blinking away his concentration on the screens before him, "what is it this time, s/o?" he swivelled his abdomen slightly to glance at you. with a pose like that... arms crossed, hip turned in a 45 degree angle, and his head looking over his shoulder at you; you could only chuckle.

miguel, once unbothered, was now VERY bothered. what were you laughing at?

"what the— why do you look like you know something i don't?" this time, miguel fully turned around; you had his full, undivided attention now. with a hand held up to your mouth to conceal your shameless laughter, you stood still as miguel made his way towards you. he wanted to take a closer look at the, what you call, humour of the situation.

"i'm sorry, it's just... um." your hand dropped from your face to his shoulder. you used his sturdy, well... extremely sturdy bicep, as a stabilizer as you tried to break the news.

"... what?" he narrowed his eyes at you, suspicion clear in his voice.

in turn, you avoided his stare by looking at your thumbs; twiddling them. "nothing..."

"oh for christ's— spit it out!" resorting to slight violence, he shoved your shoulder lightly, pushing you against a wall (since when were walls in here?).

surrendering, you rose your hands. "i was just thinking about your butt! okay!?" you sulked, dropping your head on his chest. "i am only a man." your voice was muffled, by your shame was clear.

"you cannot be serious." he pulled your head back gently by the tufts of your hair, just so he could look at you.

"i'm sorry, but your suit... it kind of makes you look like a slut-" you couldn't even finish your sentence before a loud, audible gasp filled the Spider-Man's lungs.

"excuse me?" your boyfriend's beautiful baritone voice was tragically replaced by a shrill, lady-at-the-grocery-store sound.

you grinned at his offended expression, "what- aw, does my boyfriend not want me objectifying him?" you blinked at him and pouted, leaning against him as he scoffed grumpily at you.

miguel sighed and lifted his arm up pointedly, beginning his defence—you, in turn, you took the opportunity to wrap your arms around his exposed waist. "just so we're clear; i'm not your boyfriend, you're MY boyfriend." completely desensitized to your PDA, he spoke confidently as if it was any different to what you just said; as if claiming property of a little gay boy was something to be proud of.

you could only pause, and stand in shock.

"..." you couldn't even look at him.

"..." all he was doing, was looking at you.

"i apologize. that sounded better in my head-"

"don't worry; i get it. you want me to be your boyfriend AND your pimp." before miguel could even think to catch you, you managed to sneak a satisfying squeeze on his left cheek before you started sprinting away, as fast as you humanly can.

"s/o, come back here!"

"totally worth it! you can't say that shit during pride month, miguel!"

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hotaru-no-yume · 1 year

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loyalty to the raging tempest

CW: This contains spoilers from the new archon quest. Read at your own discretion.

"You can start a new life here if you want to."

The God of Wisdom's words echo in your mind as you watch your Lord's unmoving figure on the hospital bed. You saw his fall, from the proud and cruel harbinger to a lifeless puppet who had its heart taken away. With Scaramouche's defeat and the Fatui branding you a traitor for refusing to return with the Doctor, you had nowhere else to go… until the Dendro Archon offered you sanctuary in her region.

"Gravedigger… You will regret this." The Doctor spits with the promise of your death.

"I'm sure the matra would be willing to take you in. Creating a final resting place for the dead is also necessary." In contrast, the Dendro Archon's kindness promised protection.

She was right. Under her watchful gaze, no one will be able to lay a hand on you in Sumeru. You can leave everything behind; even the pitiful puppet in front of you. Truthfully, Scaramouche was an awful person. No one in the Fatui liked him and your colleagues would often give you pitying looks once you got summoned to his side. You've lost count of how many times you were punished for not following his orders perfectly.

But still, for some reason, you can't leave him alone. Perhaps it's because of the way he looked at you when you first met. The look of recognition, fury, and something else. You remember him looming over you, staring at your dirt-covered body - the result of digging tirelessly in the cold mornings of Snezhnaya, all in an effort to create a tomb for a soldier you hardly know. Once you lock eyes, you see a raging tempest and you wonder what he's seeing when he looks at you.

"Pitiful. What's with that look in your eyes? Are you merely a doll who knows nothing more than to roll around in the dirt? Perhaps I should call you a rat."

You nod, but that seemed to make him angrier. As insulting as his words are, you really don't know anything else. In a distant memory, you see the blurry faces of your mother and father, hear their whispers of your duties and how it is important to create a final resting place, you remember the old shovel they handed you before you dug your first grave and the sight of their backs as they left for a mission and never returned.

You feel his attack before you see it. Your vision glows and you parry the blade of electro he sends towards you. You get thrown back, and you feel the air get knocked out of your lungs as you slam into a tree.

"...Good. It seems you're not entirely hopeless."

You stand up on shaky legs, tensing as he steps closer and closer. He scoffs as you raise your weapon defensively. He probably thought fighting you was mere child's play.

"Work under me. I'm sure I can find some use for a little rat like you."

And he did find some use for you. Before you knew it, you became his right hand… or maybe "errand runner" was a better description for your job. "The Balladeer's Servant", others would whisper behind your back as they see you tailing the Harbinger's figure. You were at his beck and call and usually the one that bears the brunt of his anger (or as you like to call it in your head - his temper tantrums.) It was exhausting work; trying to keep up with his demands.

But sometimes, you would see the eye of the storm. He was calm in those times, his voice losing the sharp edge it always seemed to have - like a storm temporarily diminishing into a gentle, soothing rain.

"What are you looking at? …The cherry trees?"

He hums, tipping his hat up as he stares at the lush pink trees, not minding the rain of petals falling on him due to the strong gust of wind. You think that he looks very beautiful.

"I don't need anything. Just stay there and don't make a sound."

You watch him collapse in pain after enduring the Doctor's experiments. Regardless of his protests, you help him get settled on his bed. You silently question why he doesn't see himself as a human. After all, he feels pain and suffering, just like everyone else.

Your current situation reminded you of those quiet nights with only the candle light to keep you company. But instead of seeing your Lord's eyes open the next day, he's been asleep for more than two months. Just as you think he's never going to wake up, he stirs from his slumber one morning, jolting you awake.

"...My Lord?" You call, making his pretty eyes focus on you.

"You're still here?" He mutters in disbelief, like he expected you to be gone from his side.

"Why wouldn't I be? I pledged loyalty to you, didn't I?"

Your honest words stun him into silence. He narrows his eyes, looking for a lie, a hint of deception and desire for personal gain.

He finds none. Just an honest fool that he picked up from the dirt littered with flowers and concrete.

"Idiot."

"̵͉̐̈́S̷͍̜̓c̶̱͎̈ặ̸̪̕r̴͚͎̉̍ă̵̤m̴̻̃̀ö̴̤̣́̈́u̷͍̙̽c̷͓̘͠h̷͈̟̉̀ė̸̗"̷͚͍͒̚ ̶̲̈ǎ̸̲͋ń̶͖̥̐d̷͉̒ ̴̤͍͗̀"̸̬̳̈K̴̤̤͝ả̵̰̈͜b̶̦̱͝u̶͖͚͋ķ̷͆̀ì̵̦̙̓m̸͓̥̑ô̸̠̥͝ṉ̴̦̀͆o̶͖̘͑́"̵̟͂ ̸͖̆̀ͅw̷͕͆̊ǐ̶̺̮l̷̦͋̅l̴͔̹̈́ ̴̫͗̾ç̵̖͋́ẽ̶̯̺ả̸͎̒ş̴̪͒e̶̳̼̍ ̵͍̱̿t̸̬̍̀ọ̸̩̒̍ ̶̻̯̿̚e̷̤̎̚x̵̼͗ì̷͉͈s̴̯̈̈t̸̡̻́.̸̬̏

"Do you… do you remember him?"

A floating fairy that carried the scent of stars asked you as she gestured to the man in blue. Four pairs of eyes stare at you in anticipation as you gaze at the man with a frown. He crosses his arms as he waits for your answer. You weren't expecting this strange turn of events at all. Your life was finally becoming peaceful under the kindness of the Dendro Archon. She gave you a home and a place to work. You needed nothing more. And yet, you feel like things are about to go upside down again with the presence of this strange man.

"I'm sorry. I don't know him." You said. Their gazes turn uneasy and the man in blue's neutral expression breaks for a moment.

"...But I feel like I should." You added, stepping forward to get a closer look. Not expecting the close proximity, he flinches and moves back, as if electrocuted.

"How dare-!"

"What's your name?" You ask, not paying attention to the spark of anger and embarrassment that appeared in his eyes.

"...Give me one." He says with a sigh.

"Pardon?" Did this familiar stranger really ask you to name him?

"How fascinating…" The Dendro Archon mumbles, placing a hand on her chin as she regards you with curious eyes. "Their memories were definitely erased… but somehow, the connection you formed with them was so strong that it resisted the data deletion process. There is a saying that the heart and mind are two separate things. In this case, the mind may have forgotten, but the feeling is still there. It seems you've garnered someone's loyalty regardless of your lack of divinity."

"...I suppose that's enough." The man in blue looks away, tipping his hat over his eyes.

"Well? Have you thought of a name yet?" He addresses you and you find yourself at the center of attention once again. They were actually serious about naming him…

"How about…"

The man in blue closes his eyes. You think you see the corner of his lips twitch upwards into a small smile.

#scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader #wanderer x reader #gn reader #spoilers for the archon quest #writings #genshin impact x reader #i think this was the first time i wrote something for genshin #my first genshin fic and its not even my love venti or husbando ayato #its for this little gremlin #who im starting to like

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vellichorom · 2 years

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jay: ya like huey lewis and the news?

i've never even seen american psycho

#labor9 #bogleech #inbox #uwu art #Awful Hospital #awful hospital spoilers #AH Jay #AH Fern #HE'S STRUGGLING #I HAD TO MAKE THIS SORRY ABOUT THE WAIT AHSDBG #twinkie talks

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ally-holmes · 11 months

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Volunteer | Aaron Hotchner x Reader

My Fanfic Masterlist | Multifandom

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Reader: no use of YN, reader is a doctor, no precise description of gender or physique of reader.

Summary: You were a volunteer for the soccer team Aaron Hotchner coaches. When you decide to bite the bullet and ask the man out, he rejects you in what you felt was a humiliating manner. As you're trying to get used to your new life without seeing Hotch every week, you get called to help with a hostage situation as they need a doctor on site. The BAU is there.

NOTE: The summary is awful but I had no idea what to say without making spoilers.

Content Warning: hurt/comfort, hostage situation, inaccurate medical procedures, inaccurate baby delivery situation, explicit labor, medical complications, and lots of blood. Again, highly inaccurate, don't come at me with your medical degrees, I'm a historian, not a doctor.

Words: 6695

Rating: Explicit (Look CW)

Volunteer | Oneshot

Soccer had always been an easy sport to introduce to children in the US, that's why Haley Hotchner played with her son at any given time since he was three. Spending his fourth birthday in hiding was tough for them and Aaron could see that. When Jack kept watching the same tape repeatedly, Aaron decided to sign his son into a soccer team.

Belonging to a team gave Jack another social group away from school and an understanding of teamwork and camaraderie. It was also the perfect excuse for Aaron to keep his phone away and focus solely on his son on the weekends. Naming it an excuse might seem inappropriate, but for Aaron, having a semi-structured schedule to drive his free time helped him to push the work aside, avoiding hyper-focusing on the paperwork he took from the bureau. His implication with the team drove the other parents to ask him to coach the team, a proposition that he accepted with the assistance of his best friend, David Rossi.

Things were fine overall.

Then you showed up one weekend with Jessica who introduced you as the volunteer who was going to take care of the children's health. Aaron did his best to control his microexpressions but the sparkling look Jessica gave him behind your back spoke volumes to him.

When Jessica Brooks told you about the infant soccer league you looked at her with an arched eyebrow. You've finally graduated from med school and work as a doctor in the ER of a hospital. After three years there, it felt like your own home and the staff you worked with were your family. Jessica had become a new addition to the hospital's cafeteria, and she was so approachable and extroverted that it was easy for her to bond with the other members of the personnel.

Of course, you knew about the tragedy that hit her family when her sister was murdered leaving a child behind, and you've met Jack on several occasions. Yet, you were unable to pin down the moment, the insinuation, or the interaction that made Jessica corner you at the end of your shift to ask you if you'd be interested in volunteering your medical abilities for her nephew's soccer team.

"It's mostly scratches or sprained ankles at its worse," she insisted. "A little bird had told me you ought to socialize away from the hospital. It will be great for you!"

"Jessica…"

"Listen, Jack's dad has accepted to be the team's coach, and although I know that it has been a ruse of the soccer moms to ogle him every Sunday morning, he's going to take it seriously. Not like, he's going to be focused on winning every single match. They don't even keep scores for that age group. What I mean is that Aaron is going to concentrate on making it fun for the children, but also safe, and his medical knowledge is limited."

"You just said it's mostly scratches and sprained ankles. You don't need a doctor for that."

"Come on!! It'll be fun!!"

"Are you trying to set me up with him or something?"

Jessica scoffed, "He's way too old for you. I highly doubt you find him anything else than stern and intimidating. However, there are younger single parents. All I'm saying is that you should spend time with people away from these walls."

You cave in, as might be expected.

Aaron Hotcher was stern and pretty much intimidating, but he was also an absolutely cute little thing with the kids, sexy, and interesting. His assistant, David Rossi, was approachable and found a way to involve you in his conversations with Hotchner.

You were eager to please as a volunteer. You were very nice to the children, who seemed to attach to you almost immediately, and the parents soon rooted for you when they knew you were a medical doctor. Your awkward smile when one of the parents told you about the weird rash that had appeared on his rear made Aaron giggle inside.

From the point of view of a profiler, he could tell you had terrible social skills that you tried very hard to overcome and improve. You were more comfortable with children than with adults, maybe because you've been hurt in the past, you may have some trust issues and second guess yourself often in social situations but never in your work. He was unable to see the classic narcissism noticeable in surgeons, instead, you had a compulsive professionalism while being warm and caring. Aaron also saw some nerdiness and geekiness in you that made his heart melt without permission.

"To think that I brushed her off when she asked me if I was trying to set her up…" Jessica's voice pulled him out of his analysis.

"Is this a setup?"

"God, no. Not an intentional one, at least. I was not expecting you two to check each other out like that."

"I did not check her out."

"Aaron, it's me. I may not be a profiler, but I know your looks. You like her already and I know that as you get to know her better, you're going to like her more and more."

"It won't happen."

"Tell yourself that."

And he did. He told himself that along with other things but when he caught your eyes lingering on him when you thought he wasn't looking he felt a boost of self-esteem. Talking to you was a treat he rarely indulged himself with. The worst thing he thought he could do was to lead you on to think he felt the same because then he would lose the restraint that prevented him from falling in love again. It was too soon. You were too young. The 'what if' list got longer and longer as months passed.

That's how, after a few months you ended up crushing hard on that man that Jessica assured you was too old for you. Oh, boy, you didn't care. After the practices and matches, you stayed with Hotch to clear the place of the things you'd used with Jack's playful help, and that's what drew you closer. You found his deadpan jokes hilarious. You lived for his small smirks or full-on laughs, the tiny movements his eyebrows made when he found something amusing, the light in his dark eyes when he looked at his son laughing about what you'd said or done. Being of assistance was your main goal for the weekends and your supervisor in the ER was more than glad to fix your schedule so you could have those moments for the soccer team.

At some point, you inevitably thought of yourself as a needy puppy when you found yourself being always the first to comply with any of Hotch's requests. Due to the lack of major injuries (or injuries in any way or form), you didn't have much to do with the team, therefore you ran errands like buying snacks, or bringing gallons of water… To be honest you would've driven all the way to San Francisco if Hotch and Dave had asked you to. It was embarrassing.

Now that you were facing a pissed-off Aaron Hotchner, you were regretting accepting Jessica's push six months ago.

Mulling over your feelings for the past few weeks, you've decided to approach him and ask him out on a date. Just some coffee, really, nothing fancy. He frowned; his eyes ran through you seeing things you were fighting to hide. Little did you know that Aaron felt at the edge of an abyss.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Aaron tersely told you, and when your eyes wandered between his looking for a longer explanation, his panic clouded his mind, and he must admit was gratuitously rude to you. "With my work consisting in profiling people, do you actually believe that your behavior had been unnoticed? I've tried to put some distance between us to avoid confusing you and apparently, it hadn't worked. I don't intend to be mean, but if your sole motivation to volunteer here is to spend time with me or look at me, I think it'll be better for all of us if you stopped coming here. We don't need a doctor, anyway. The most you've done has been cleaning Travis' wound when he fell on top of a tiny rock and his hand started bleeding.

"I am sure that you are great in your work," he slowly assured you, "but we don't need your skills here. I'm doing this to spend quality time with my son, and I cannot enjoy it if my attention is on your stalking behavior."

"Stalking?" You whispered confused.

"It's not the appropriate word. I'm sorry. Just… This is a safe space for the kids to have fun, and we, parents, are here because of that. You have no connection with any of them, not the children and not the adults."

You press your lips to avoid pouting. The last thing you wanted was to break in front of him after that awful humiliation. Handing him the cones you'd collected, you had nothing else to do there, and knowing just how unwanted your presence was prevented you from saying goodbye to Rossi and Jack as you usually did.

Aaron's grip on the cones hurt his hands as he followed you with his eyes, a storm breaking in his chest. When instead of going towards Dave and Jack you kept walking out of the field, the old profiler looked at him across the field with concerned eyes. He bowed his head in shame.

Hiding from Jessica at work was easy for you, at least for the first few days after the humiliation, but on Wednesday, you decided to bite the bullet and face her. After sharing some pleasantries, you smiled sadly at her before telling her what you actually wanted to say.

"I don't know if Hotch has told you, but I asked him out for a coffee. He rejected me, of course," you laughed self-depreciatingly. "Um… I'm going to quit volunteering on the soccer team. Could you make sure he understands it is because I cannot face him after how he did it, and not because I'm unable to stop stalking him?"

"He said you were stalking him?"

"Not exactly. He said I had stalking behavior, apparently. I didn't notice. I– I've been fighting very hard to act normal around him. I promise that if he had just rejected my advances I would've kept my volunteering. I mean, it would've been awkward but I really do enjoy being out there. He made it pretty clear that I've been making him uncomfortable, and that's something I can't gut. Um… So, yeah, that's that."

Hotchner did not have it that easy to hide from his sister-in-law. Jessica narrowed her eyes at him when he came back home from a long work trip in Texas. As he asked about Jack, worried that her sour mood had to do with something regarding his son, she sighed crossing her arms.

"You told her you felt stalked? Really?"

Understanding washed over him.

"I might've misused the word," Aaron took accountability for his mistake.

"I cannot believe you can be so dumb! Aaron, she likes you! And you like her too, don't try to lie to me."

"She's too young and–"

"You're scared. That is normal, but listen to me, you deserve to be happy again. I'm pretty sure that a doctor will understand your crazy schedule better than anyone else. Why are you doing this to yourself?"

"It's done. Forget about it."

Pressing her hands against her eyes, Jess tried to calm down her anger. "Fine. I'm going to leave you alone, just one thing, Aaron, you've hurt her pretty badly and if you don't fix your mistake soon, you're going to miss your opportunity. She's a nice person, and she deserves better than to be humiliated that way."

"It wasn't my intention."

"Just because there was no ill intention in your behavior, does not mean that you're innocent of the damage you've caused." Gathering her things, she headed out the door. "Oh, and by the way, she asked me to tell you that she won't be volunteering for the team anymore. Not because she's unable to stop stalking you, but because the way you're rejected her made her believe that her presence is unwelcome and makes you uncomfortable, so… Well done."

Aaron did not give much thought to that until the weekend rolled over and you weren't there. While the parents and guardians were concerned about your well-being, the children stubbornly refused to start without you on the field because in their minds you were an essential part of the team, just as the coach was. Dave caught him lost in his mind more than once, but he never said anything out loud.

Three weeks after leaving the soccer team you were still surprised at how much you missed it. Weaver gave you all the hours you asked for to work on the weekends in order to fill your mind with work instead of daydreaming about how much fun the kids must've been having. Jessica told you once that Travis had scratched his knees but refused treatment even from his dad as he cried calling for you. That touched your broken heart; knowing that the little ones appreciated your presence even if it was irrelevant meant so much to you.

That Sunday you'd been working since Saturday morning treating everything from mild intoxication to hardcore injuries. Adrenaline was still pumping in your veins as you tore the yellow gown off to deposit it in the bin with the gloves you just used on the car-crash patient that Coleen was taking to the OR. Cracking your neck, you grabbed your white coat from where you'd dropped it to attend to the emergency. Slipping it on top of your scrubs (a patient had vomited on you during the night which forced you to change clothes) you approached the admission desk.

"Got something for me, Jerry?"

"Take your pick," he pointed to the row of histories.

"That's not fair! How is it I cannot pick?" said a petulant voice next to you.

"Because you're a student, Natalie. Here, take this. Seems the patient needs sutures."

"That's all I'm doing. Sutures, sutures, sutures," she mumbled as she went to gather the patient.

That's when a known figure caught your eye in the waiting room. Frowning, you looked at the histories, finding two familiar names. With the documents in your arms, you cross the waiting room towards them.

David Rossi was nursing his injured arm against his chest, standing next to Aaron and Jack, who were seating in the waiting room. He saw you at the admissions desk looking through the histories before taking two of them and walking straight towards him. That's when he knew it had been a good idea to make Aaron drive them to this concrete hospital. Aaron's eyes were locked on his son's injury, therefore he tensed slightly when he heard your voice after so long.

"Why, good morning, Jack," you cheerfully greet the young child that's sitting in his father's lap, who was pressing a towel against his son's head. "Didn't you have a match today?"

"I got hurt," the boy pouted although you could see he was enduring the pain.

"Why won't you come with me? Come with us, Dave," the man nodded with a glint in his eyes.

You haven't even glanced at Aaron's face, afraid that you may compromise your patient's needs by remembering the humiliating rejection you've suffered.

When he gathered the courage to look at you, his heart clenched in need as, for the first time since he'd known you, your beautiful eyes never landed on him. Not even once.

With Jack seated on a bed in the ER, you removed the towel finding a small wound surrounded by dry blood. It was puffy and bluish. Rossi explained that Jack had passed out while on the field and he had launched to get him, failing, and hurting his wrist on the landing.

"Very well, Jack, I'm going to ask you to do something for me," you said putting your penlight away after looking at the response in his eyes. "I want you to touch your nose with your fingertips, then pull the arms as far away as you can, and touch your nose again," you demonstrated what you wanted and the boy did it without trouble. "Well done. Now follow my finger without moving your head. That's right… Very good, Jack. Give me your hands. Grab mine as hard as you can. Good. Now," you put your hands on top of his feet, "try to push my hands up. As hard as you can. There you go. Okay.

"I'll listen to your heart now." After that and checking his reflexes, you sat on a small stool by the bed and asked him a few questions to evaluate his mental state. He was shy at first, but then he started babbling coherently, which was a good sign. "Jack, did you feel bad before the match?"

The boy looked at his dad and at Rossi, "No."

"I might not be a profiler, but that seems like a lie to me. Do you want to try again?"

"I– I had a tummyache."

"When you went to the bathroom, was your poop very liquid?"

"Yeah…"

"You didn't tell your dad?" Jack shook his head, regretting it immediately. "Why not, sweetheart?"

"I want to spend time with him, but if he's the coach and I can't play, then I have to go with Aunt Jess or look from the sidelines. That's not fun."

"Perfectly understandable. Does your tummy hurt still? No? When was the last time you ate something?"

Opening the history, you scrabble and check several squares before facing Aaron Hotchner for the first time, pulling your most professional façade on. He was waiting, observing every single move with his arms crossed over his chest.

"I don't see any symptoms of concussion. Jack doesn't even react badly to the light when pointed directly at his eyes. I believe that he's caught the stomach bug that's been running among children for the last few weeks and he's dehydrated due to the diarrhea.

"I'm going to run some blood tests, just to be certain. Although the headwound is superficial I'm aware that you'll feel better if we take some X-rays. I'll give him some fluids, clean the wound, and he'll be free to go if the tests come back clear.

"Once at home, lots of liquids. Water, Gatorade… Bland food, the usual. Keep him awake at least until his bedtime, that way you'll be aware of something bad happening. It's not going to happen anything bad, though."

He nodded, unable to find his voice after feeling the way your eyes stabbed him. Aaron Hotchner made a life out of analyzing people and he could see how hard you were trying to stand composed in front of him, to hide how strongly he had hurt you.

"Now you, Dave," you palped his wrist and scrunched your nose. "It's not broken. I think it's dislocated. I'm going to send you to X-rays with Jack, that way you keep each other company, and we'll see what's the situation with your wrist before trying to put it in place. Any questions? None? Good. Haleh," you called the nurse, "blood tests and fluids for the little man. A round of X-rays for both of them."

"On it."

"Need some help!!" Carter yelled while running towards the entrance of the emergency where an ambulance was dropping an injured and bloody patient.

"I'll be back when the X-rays are done," you promised the three men before running for the second ambulance. "What do we have?"

As the paramedic was explaining the patient's situation, she started to code which made you copy one of Carter's most dramatic moves and jump on top of the gurney to start compressions as the paramedics kept pushing it toward box two.

"That's really cool," Jack whispered mesmerized by the display of action. Aaron caressed his son's head with love.

Time went by, busy as always in the ER so your hands were full with both complicated and easy cases. Rossi, Aaron, and Jack spent the time waiting for the X-rays before waiting in the ER again; it didn't annoy them much, and they understood how it worked. Overall, they were all aware that they would still be waiting for their turn if you hadn't been working that day and saw them in the waiting room.

You were exhausted when you saw the three men again. Haleh handed you the X-ray complaining about how rude the technicians were when overloaded with work. Greeting them again, you put Jack's rays on a light panel close by.

"Look, Jack. This is your head. Can you see these circles? Those are your eyes. Now, this is the side where you had hit your head. There's no trace of damage in the bone," you looked at Hotch to make your message clear. "I can see that the fluids bag is almost empty. That's a good sign. Blood tests came back clear as well. Jack is fine. As I said before, liquids and bland food until the stomach bug is over.

"Let's see Dave's hand now…" You changed the rays. Rossi's wrist had been dislocated, as you thought.

Getting ready the needed stuff for the cast before placing the wrist in place, you explained everything to Jack who watched your moves like a hawk. Using Rossi's distraction, you pull his hand, putting his bones in place. It hurt him, and he cursed under his breath so you gifted him with your most innocent smile.

"You need the cast to avoid hurting your wrist more. Be more careful, David."

"As you say, Doc."

Carter's voice calling for you prevented you from pointing out his age. You turned to see him pointing to the board. Right, your shift must've been over three hours ago. Thumbs up you wink at him before turning your attention to your patients once again.

"I'm going to put you in the cast while Jack's bag completely empties, and then you guys can leave. Sounds good?"

"Who is that?" Jack asked.

"Doctor Carter," you simply say, focusing on the cast.

"Is he your boyfriend?" the child insisted. Aaron tensed with his son's boldness.

"Nope."

"Jack, it's not nice to ask those questions," Hotch reprimanded, making him pout.

"I just want to understand why she's not coming anymore." That admission stabbed him right in the heart.

"I'm not coming because you don't need me, Jack," you smiled at him. Another stab clenched Hotch's chest, he'd told you that.

"But we want you there!! It's not the same without you."

"That's very sweet, but it doesn't change the situation. This is done. Haleh will take that out of you, Jack. Be good," you pointed to both of your patients, ignoring Aaron once again.

Leaving them behind, you approached the admission counter to fix the paperwork when Carter cornered you with his cheeky expression and half smile. You rolled your eyes, putting your arms up in surrender.

"Fine. Fine. I'm leaving. See? This is me leaving."

"You better get out of my ER before another ambulance comes by."

"Meany."

"Out."

Rossi hummed watching the interaction just as Aaron's jaw set in distaste. "Is that jealousy or envy?"

"Not now, Dave."

It didn't take you too long to get ready to leave the hospital, and just at the moment you were crossing the doors you saw an ambulance come to a halt. Standing on the tip of your toes, you try to take a good look at the patient but Carter gave you 'the look' and you gave up. You just wanted to keep yourself busy. It was lunchtime and although you wanted to eat, you didn't want to do it all alone in your small apartment.

Walking towards the bus stop, you pulled out your phone thinking about ordering from the Indian restaurant close to your place and picked it up on your way. With a sigh, you decided you were not that hungry anyway.

Once in their home after that long morning in the ER, Aaron tried to pry the real feelings from his son, who openly told him that yes, he missed you and that he thought that you two were going to date in the future.

"You smile way more when she's on the team, Daddy," he had told him.

His resolution was clear, he was going to confront you, take accountability for his mistake, and beg you for a chance. Work prevented him from doing it right away.

You didn't hear from the Hotchner men or David Rossi for the next few days, which you anticipated, but when Saturday rolled up you found yourself in an ambulance next to Doctor Carter and Nurse Patton running to attend a hostage situation.

The place is a grocery store. Hostages are pressed against its windows to prevent the shooters from having a visual of the suspect. There's a control area with local agents and the FBI, and as you're led there by an officer, you locked eyes with Aaron Hotchner. He seemed composed and focused, but the moment he saw you his frown deepened and his skin ashen.

The three of you were introduced to the agents and you let Carter take control of the situation. He's older than you, your superior, and he had proved his leadership countless times in the hospital.

"The unsub is desperate. He is a father who's seen his world crumbling in the last few months as social services threatened to take his children from him," Rossi explained to all of you.

"He's compassionate with other people but he won't hesitate to kill in order to keep the custody of his children. He has asked for a medical team as there's a wounded hostage and a pregnant woman in terrible pain," the agent introduced as Emily Prentiss continued.

"He is reckless. He's cornered and that makes him dangerous. Under no circumstance try to approach him, antagonize him, or contradict him. Understand? He's volatile at this point and if he believes that you are the enemy, he will kill you on the spot." Although Hotchner's words were meant for the three of you, his eyes never left you for too long.

"Is there any plan?" Carter asked.

"He'll be distracted with you there. You just have to focus on doing your job. There's a CCTV system with video and audio that still work. We have eyes and ears on you."

"Fair enough. Patton, when we get in, you and I will attend to the wounded. You," Carter pointed at you, "go to the pregnant and check on the baby."

"Understood."

"Let's get you inside."

Following Agent Morgan to the end of the perimeter your heart quickened its beating rate pumping your blood faster through your veins boosted by the adrenaline raising in your system. The unsub, as the FBI called him, ordered the bunch of you to show that you weren't armed before allowing you to enter.

The man, in his late fifties but athletic, was sweating profusely. His eyes never focused on a spot for too long. His hands were running through his hair, drying his face, fidgeting anxiously. Saying that he was unstable was a huge misunderstanding. When Carter asked for his name, the man mumbled Eli almost unconsciously before cursing and aiming at the doctor with his gun claiming that they weren't there to talk to him.

Carter calmly explained his plan of action to Eli before proceeding. Patton and Carter found the wounded victim bleeding in abundance from a bullet wound in his thigh. As they worked fast and efficiently on it, Eli hovered over them with guilt written all over his face. The man kept promising that it had been an accident, that the gun had shot itself because the victim kept talking and talking. Carter deemed the wound not life-threatening itself as it hadn't pierced the artery; however, Eli wasn't sure how long it had been since the man was bleeding, which made the situation delicate still.

Meanwhile, you've approached the pregnant woman asking for her name with a soft calming smile on your face. Patty was focused enough to tell you that this was her first pregnancy, that she had gone to the grocery store craving pickles and peanut butter, and that she was in huge pain that had increased in the last few minutes. Putting on some gloves, you informed her that she needed a pelvic exam to see if everything was alright, but you started the exploration by touching her belly and auscultating both her chest and her belly in order to find a trace of the baby's heartbeat if possible. After that, you pulled up her dress finding a concerning hemorrhage.

"Alright, Patty. Can you tell me how often it hurts?" You removed her bloody underwear before proceeding to the exam and… "You're in labor."

"No. No. No. There's no way. It's early still. It's early."

"That makes your baby a bit impatient," you joked kindly.

The most important thing was that Patty remained as calm as possible, which wasn't much. After noticing how dilated she was, you found the baby's head ready to start its journey into the world. Then you palpated it. The umbilical cord was surrounding the baby's neck. As Patty started to scream you could feel the baby moving forward as she was pushing.

"No, Patty. Don't push."

"It hurts!"

"I know it does, but you can't push just yet. Mister Eli," you called for the unsub, "this woman is in labor and she needs a hospital."

"She's not leaving!!"

"I'm not making a suggestion, I'm stating a fact," you sternly answered piercing him with your determination. You weren't scared of him. "If this woman and her baby die here, it would be your fault."

Eli ran towards you pushing his gun to your forehead, you didn't even blink refusing to show weakness. "Then do your job."

"Oh, I'm going to. I'm not a miracle worker, though. And I need help."

Outside, in the control center, Aaron was losing his cool. On the inside, of course, he rarely broadcasts his emotions. Dave knew him well enough to put his castless hand on top of his friend's crossed arms to give him support.

"She's strong," whether it was a statement or a reminder, they didn't know.

The fact that you weren't cowering under Eli's aggressive behavior broke his resolve allowing two of the hostages on the windows to help you. One of them volunteered because she was a med student; she had been helping the wounded man before the arrival of the ambulance. You asked her to monitor Patty as the other volunteer helped you handing you whatever you needed at the moment.

Trying to calm down Patty, you winked at her as if saying that her condition wasn't as grave as you'd told the unsub. Focusing your senses on your hands, you tried to remove the umbilical cord from the baby's neck without hurting it or the mother. It took some time and deep breaths but in the end, you were able to move it around freeing the neck. Patty was close to collapse, sweaty and exhausted. You asked her to push with every contraction. Head out. Another push and there came the shoulders. Another big one and the baby was limp between your hands, blue and unresponsive. Clamping the cord, you cut it before depositing the infant on top of a bunch of towels the volunteer had gathered from the end of the store for you. You start the baby's reanimation.

"She's passed out," the med student told you anxiously.

Without stopping your compressions you saw Patty unconscious, bleeding way too much.

"Carter!!"

"I'm not done yet," he shot you a look across the place.

"Fuck… She hasn't expulsed the placenta yet, Carter."

"She has to go to a hospital," Carter spat to Eli.

"No one is leaving until they gave me my children back!!"

The newborn made a complaining sound before starting to cry. Taking a deep breath, you auscultated her to make sure that everything was fine. You wrapped her on the towels and handled her to the volunteer with the order of keeping her warm and to make sure that if she stopped breathing at any moment, you were called.

Turning your attention to Patty there wasn't much you could do at the moment. Her heart rate was decreasing, and she kept losing blood. There was a hospital a mile away, she could make it and they would be able to help her before it was too late.

"Under no circumstance try to approach him, antagonize him, or contradict him," Hotchner's words danced in your head as you got up from the floor peeling the damp gloves.

Fuck it.

"Are you happy now?" You spat at Eli. Carter's patient was receiving CPR uselessly.

"Don't move," Eli pointed his gun at you.

"You know? The officers out there told us that you were a compassionate man. That you just wanted your children back. I thought I could understand you then, you were just a father loving his children and wanting to be with them."

"Exactly!! I'm–"

"You're not," you calmly cut his outburst shocking him. "You're a disgusting piece of garbage. Did social services take your children? Well, if you behave out there just as half as you did here I'm surprised they didn't take them sooner."

"Shut up!!"

There was a commotion outside when Aaron grabbed his gun and headed towards the perimeter, Morgan and Rossi caught him before he could even take a step away from them. Dave took the gun out of his grip.

"What's wrong with you?" Morgan demanded.

"She's going to get herself killed!"

"I know this is tricky for you, but you can't just break protocol, Aaron."

"Dave, she's inside and–"

"She's giving us an opening," Reid's absent voice ran through them. "Look, he's so focused on her and their argument that we can approach the store and take him without him noticing."

After a moment of studying the situation, Hotch took his gun again and nodded. "Let's get ready."

They put on the earpieces that kept reproducing the conversation that was taking place inside the store in order to give them the correct tempo.

"Look at what you've done," you pressed. Your voice was low and stern, completely calm as you kept approaching him cornering him against the counter of the store without him noticing. "A woman that still had time to become a mother, is now dying on the floor because of you. A man is dead because of you."

"It was an accident. I– The gun–"

"They could've lived if you had left them to leave to a hospital. Compassionate, they said," you snorted in mockery. "You're just a selfish bastard that would kill his own children if they disobeyed."

"That's not true!! Not true. I never touched them. I– I'm a good man."

"You're a murderer. Funny thing how you assumed your children aren't here yet because the police won't take them, but you know the truth, don't you? They don't want to have anything to do with you."

"No!"

"They know what you are and they don't want to be with you."

It was fast. One second Eli was an anxious and sweaty mess moving from side to side with unfocussed attention, and the next he was ready to shoot you between the eyes. However, your change was just as fast. One second you were approaching him slowly, and the next you hit him in the face with your elbow in a perfect move. Eli lost his balance falling face-first to the floor. You kicked the gun away before he grabbed you, pulling you underneath him. He punched you in the face before Carter hooked his head with his arm tearing him away from you. The door burst open and the FBI took Eli away.

In the mess that was taking the unsub away from the store, checking on all the hostages, and guiding the EMT to the injured, Aaron was unable to take a proper look at you which made him feel antsy.

With Patty and her baby in an ambulance and all the hostages safe, except for the wounded man that had perished, Hotchner approached you. His stern demeanor hardened his set jaw and frowning brow.

"We had video and audio from the inside. What you did was reckless. What were you thinking? Did you not pay any attention to what I had to say before you got in? Eli Marsh could've–"

"I did my job, Agent Hotchner. I'm a doctor and my job is to help people in need. My patient was losing blood and she needed a hospital, so I got her out of there. I'd do it again if needed."

Before he could say something else, Rossi called for you to make your statement.

Aaron saw you leaving with steady feet and felt his chest puff with pride at how brave you'd been. Dave's look in the distance made him take a deep breath and handle the situation as the Unit Chief he was; he needed to clear his mind.

Back at the office, the team dispersed to complete their paperwork. He had no idea how long he'd been surrounded by papers to fulfill, but as he was writing his statement, his mind wandered away, and the images of you confronting and insulting a volatile unsub with such a strong stance and calm tone assaulted him.

A soft know in his office door pulled him away from that helpless memory. David Rossi observed him with those profiler eyes.

"Yes?"

"Stop being this stupid, Aaron. Go to her."

"I'm not done."

"There's no rush. Plus, Morgan and I will take care of all the paperwork that doesn't need your direct participation."

Looking out of his window to the bullpen he saw his whole team looking back at him. They all knew.

"Go." His friend insisted.

Despite the dangerous situation and nerve-wracking job, you had to perform that day, you went back to your hospital to check in with your bosses. Weaver gave you, Carter, and Patton the rest of the day off as well as the day after that. Patton left immediately, but Carter and you procrastinated for almost two hours in the staff room talking about the day.

When Carter decided he had energy enough to go home, he offered you a ride and you gratefully accepted. Heading out of the ER door, it took you a couple of glances to acknowledge that the silhouette you were seeing was actually there and not a side effect of the stressful day you'd had.

"Go ahead," you told Carter. He looked between the man and you as the distance shortened. He didn't seem pleased with leaving you alone but did it nonetheless. "Agent Hotchner," you greeted him. "Is there anything else I had to do with the case today?"

Shying away, Hotch fixed his tie, "This isn't an official visit. I just– Are you hungry?"

"That depends. Why are you asking?"

"I want to buy you dinner."

"Why?"

You weren't going to make it easy for him and when he noticed he smiled slightly. "Because I like you and I've been an asshole lately and today I– I was terrified when I saw you come down from the ambulance. I'm not ready to have you out of my sight."

"That sounds concerning."

"I'm sorry about what I said when you asked me out. I– I pushed you away because I wasn't sure about how long I could keep my distance. I wasn't fair and I know it. This doesn't have to lead to anything, but…"

"Nothing fancy, though."

Smiling more broadly, Aaron nodded. "Nothing fancy," he promised making a gesture towards his car.

The end.

#criminal minds #cm #aaron hotchner imagine #hotch #fem reader #aaron hotchner x reader #dr john carter #er #fanfic #fanfiction #hurt/comfort

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