#hurtno comfort

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˗ˏˋdialogue : breaking upˎˊ˗

“we need to talk.”
“i’m sorry, but i can’t keep this up.”
“i could never hate you, i just can’t be with you.”
“it’s not you, it’s me.”
“maybe we can still be friends?”
“are you saying what i think you’re saying?”
“after all we’ve been through?”
“you can’t be serious.”
“you’re all i have left!”
“i need you!”
“it’s not me, it’s you.”
“all we do is fight!”
“you’re so fucking toxic… and you’ll never change.”
“this was doomed from the beginning.”
“i could never be with you.”
“after everything i’ve done for you, this is what i get?”
“you’re nothing without me.”
“who else would wanna be with you?”
“i’m the best you’re gonna get.”
“about time. you’ve been holding me back.”
“what about the kids?”
“i need to focus on school/my career.”
“and you say this a month before our wedding?!”
“i was a kid, i didn’t know better.”
“can i kiss you one last time then?”

Tue, 12 Apr 2022 12:03:03

Love You Anymore [angst]

Summary: 2 years after the breakup, you’ve managed to pick up the pieces of your broken heart. It hasn’t been easy, but you know that you did the right thing… right?

Pairings: Hotch x blank slate Fem!Reader (no use of y/n), Hotch x Beth, Emily x OFC (aka @leftoverenvy), JJ x Will mentioned

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: angst, some mentions of alcohol, some cursing, honestly just be prepared for intense angst + internal spiralling

A/N: please don’t hate me for this. Next up is part 3, which is going to be hotch pov as always with my song fics, I went embarrassingly out of the way to make it fit with the inspo song, so consider giving that a listen! Beta creds to @laurensprentiss

Also, a super important shoutout to @sadgirlml to being the #1 supporter of part 1 and being the main encouragement behind me continuing it as a trilogy!! Love you Mely

Find it on ao3 here or under the cut, and happy reading <3

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—————

Just because I’m on my knees and swearin’ I would change

And I’d do anything to hear you say, “I’m yours”

Just because I know I’ll never ever feel the same

Doesn’t mean I love you anymore

It’s been nearly two years since the beginning of the end; shouldn’t it be done hurting by now? Shouldn’t it have… well, ended?

Okay, so maybe that isn’t completely fair. You hurt a little less now than you did after that weekend, the one where you walked away from a less-than-perfect life with the perfect man.

That doesn’t mean you’ve healed, though. For the most part, you’re fine. You go out with your new coworkers, you go for walks around the park near your apartment two or three times a week, you’ve gone on a few dates that ended in nothing except you dodging calls the next day. For the most part you’re fine, just like you knew you eventually would be.

Missing Aaron and Jack is in the little things. It hits you the hardest on sunny mornings when you take your coffee out onto the terrace, remembering when that was a tradition you held with Aaron. You see Jack’s face in every laughing little boy at the park, and you see Aaron’s in every staunch businessman at the bar who obviously doesn’t want to be there.

You go grocery shopping and find yourself reaching for Aaron’s favourite brand of chips, or the chocolate chips you used for the pancakes Jack begged you to make on the weekends. You’re fine, you’re alright, until you’re standing in the baking aisle of Walmart with memories flooding you and tears begging to be spilled.

It’s hard to believe it’s over, even all this time later. Nearly two years, and you can’t even see an ad for Rolexes online without thinking about your ex. Pathetic.

You haven’t been to your favourite coffee shop in years; not since the day Aaron bought breakfast from there, brought you flowers, and you retaliated by breaking your own heart. It’s hard not to wonder what could have been- what wouldhave been, if you hadn’t done the selfless thing.

That’s become your new mantra. You did the right thing.

You did the selfless thing, the hard thing and walked away, leaving behind a family and a life and the best job you’ve ever had, and you did it for a reason. You did it for Aaron, and you have to remind yourself of that fact every time it gets hard to remember.

On the nights when grief hits you like a wave trying to drag you under, you bear it and hold onto the hope that he found the life he wanted, the one you left him to pursue.

Maybe by now he has a new girlfriend, and Jack has a mom who knows how he likes his sandwiches; crusts taken off, and shaped with the dinosaur cutter.

Maybe by now Aaron doesn’t remember your face, your voice, the way you held him whenever the nightmares got a little too real. The way you loved him and he loved you, and the way your devotion to each other was unwavering on the nights where neither of you felt worthy of any kind of love.

Maybe he’s doing just fine now, and you can’t quite decide how you feel about that idea, so you shove it down whenever it bubbles to the surface. It comes out of nowhere, despair slapping you across the face just because someone at work offers you a piece of Hawaiian pizza; Jack’s favourite.

Maybe they’re happy without you.

It’s an unspoken question that you don’t want answered.

A part of you is convinced, right down to your bones, that you’ll never see Aaron Hotchner again. No matter how many times you visit the park that he took Jack to, no matter how many times you look at the pictures of the boys that you really should have deleted by now, no matter how badly you want to see him.

It’s never going to happen, and you’ve made your peace with that.

—————

Maybe that’s why it’s such a big surprise on a regular Thursday morning when you’re driving to meet Emily for brunch near the Quantico office and you get rear-ended.

One minute you’re driving and listening to Boyfriends by Harry Styles, and the next minute there’s a sickening crunch of metal while you lurch forward in your seat, shaken up but otherwise unscathed as you pull over to the shoulder of the road and turn off the music.

One glance in your rear view mirror reveals another car pulling over behind you, one with a very familiar driver. As though it’s an instinct, your hands are shaking with adrenaline the moment you catch a glimpse of his sharp profile.

Maybe you’ve mistaken him? No, there’s no mistaking the jawline, the broad shoulders, the inky-dark hair of your ex-boyfriend. There’s no mistaking the suit either, and your heart and stomach drop simultaneously when you finally register that it’s Aaron Hotchner getting out of his car and walking towards yours.

He looks good, better than you remember. His suit is more filled out, and there’s a light dusting of stubble on his face. He’s weathered, obviously older, but he still has that professional look on his face that hasn’t changed a bit, all furrowed eyebrows and hard edges as he walks towards you.

You’ve seen him a couple of times, of course; you still share a friend group to some degree, but you’ve become skilled at sitting further away from him on those rare nights where you’re both on the same group outing. It’s been a while since you’ve gotten a good look at him.

You stay perfectly still, unwilling- or maybe unable- to make yourself move a muscle as you watch him approaching in your rearview mirror. A moment later there are two raps on the glass, startling you into rolling the window down.

Aaron speaks first, looking over at his car instead of at you. “Hey, I’m sorry about that. I must have hit a patch, or something,” he apologizes as he pulls out his wallet to rifle through before bringing out a business card. “Here, I-“ his breath hitches, and you look up as he says, “Hi.”

He’s finally looked down and made eye contact with you, a half-smile frozen on his face, and it’s all you can do to pinch the business card between two fingers and say, “Hello. Am I okay to drive?” You keep your tone clipped, doing your best to convey that you don’t want to exchange pleasantries; you just want to get out of here.

Aaron’s mouth opens, closes, opens again before he takes a step back to look at your fender. “I, er, think so. It’s cracked, but it shouldn’t affect… I’m so sorry, just send me the bill for any repairs. I didn’t mean to…”

“I know you didn’t.” You hope you sound reassuring and not snappish, but either way you know you can’t stand to be here for another minute. The window rolls up, and right before it closes you say, “I’ll see you around.”

When you pull away with a squeal of your tires- uncharacteristic, but you’ve never wanted to get away from a situation so badly- you chance a glance in your rear view mirror, just to see Aaron standing there as lonely and dejected as he was on the day you left him.

Aaron Hotchner isn’t a part of your life, and you remind yourself of that a couple times as you drive. He’s a part of your past, a painful part that itches all the wrong spots in your mind when you think about your time with him. Your old life, really.

You’ve made new friends, gotten a new job, completely changed your routines and every part of your everyday. Maybe he’s done the same, but it doesn’t matter. You’ve grown up and done your best to move on, so why is there a pit in your stomach when you think of the apologetic smile he gave you before he realized who you were?

So much has changed since you left two years ago, but you didn’t think it would hurt like this to see him again and have to talk to him. Maybe less has changed than you thought.

—————

As soon as you get to the place Emily chose for brunch, you check over your car for damage. The procedure for what to do after a minor car accident is in your head- look for damage, contact the other party, file a claim if you need to- but there’s no way you’re planning on talking to Aaron unless necessary, especially over something as minuscule as a cracked fender.

You’re steadfast on that, and thinking about how lucky you are that the collision wasn’t any worse as you walk inside and immediately see the girls at a booth near the restaurant’s large front windows.

The place has a homey, diner-like feel to it. There’s music coming from a jukebox in the corner, some kind of older bluesy music that you recognize vaguely but can’t quite place. The floor is tiled with red and white checkers and the booth that the girls are sitting at has overstuffed red leather seating that your legs stick to as soon as you slide in next to Penelope.

“Hey, is that your car?” JJ motions out the window with her fork, a stack of pancakes already in front of her. “What happened?”

“I got rear ended on the way here,” you say with a wince, hoping that she doesn’t ask any more questions. Just to be safe you say, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll get someone to take a look at it.”

“Ooh, like Darren?” Emily asks as she takes a sip of coffee, sliding the menu over to you. “How was that date?”

The eyeroll you give her is an immediate reflex. “Same as every other date. We met at the restaurant and he offered to take me back to his place before we even finished eating.”

“Men are pigs. That’s what I keep telling you,” she shoots back through a half-laugh.

“I know, I know, you got solucky, we’ve heard.” You smirk at her, and JJ and Penelope giggle until the waitress comes up to you to take your order.

Once she walks away Penelope says, “So Em, less than a month until the wedding. How are you feeling?”

Emily doesn’t respond for a minute, and you all watch as a sickly-sweet grin spreads over her face. It’s the same smile she gets every time someone brings up her fiancée, Katie.

“Looking forward to it,” she finally says, hardly shifting the dopey look on her face. “Katie’s been floating, she’s so excited. It’s really cute.”

“Everything she does is cute, according to you” JJ points out, sending the table into another bout of giggling. “I still don’t get why you’re moving up the wedding, though. I thought you had your heart set on the venue.”

Emily shrugs and pops a hashbrown into her mouth. “Doesn’t matter as much as getting married,” she says around it, then swallows. “Rossi’s backyard is cheaper than the venue, so that’s nice. And she got so excited when I asked if we could do it sooner, too. Who’s to say we wouldn’t get called on a case on the actual date, either?”

From the sympathetic nods JJ and Penelope give her, you surmise that many important events have gotten pushed to the wayside by a case. That’s one part of fieldwork that you don’t miss.

Your new job with the CJIA is fine enough, you suppose. You work in Biometrics, and while it’s just as important as the work the BAU does, you can’t deny how badly you miss the the adrenaline of being out there helping people across the country.

Of course, you aren’t going to say that during this conversation.

“I know. If we’d taken another day on that last case, I would have missed Henry’s birthday party,” JJ is saying. “I’m just lucky Will is so understanding about work.”

You try to fight back thoughts of Haley and the crumbling of Aaron’s first marriage as Emily makes a sound of agreement around a mouthful of toast.

“Yeah, Katie’s great about it. But I don’t know if she misses me half as much as I miss her when I’m gone,” she says, and Penelope lets out a squeal that has half the diner looking at your booth.

“Do you still have the album?” She asks, and you watch in amusement as Emily flushes a deep red. “You do! I knew it!”

“What album?” You ask, taking a sip of your water as the waitress sets it down in front of you.

“Our dear sweet grossly-sappy-in-love Emily-” Penelope starts, but Emily cuts her off.

“God, I’ll tell them.” She takes a deep breath like she’s steeling herself up before she says, “I have a couple pictures of her saved, and Penelope saw them when she was looking for my location by hackingmy phone.”

“I was concerned! For your safety! Anyways, the album is really cute. It’s all pictures of Katie, half of them look like she doesn’t even know Em was taking them, and then there’s a bunch of cute texts saved, and…” she trails off at the murderous look on Emily’s face. “And that’s all. Anyways, it’s super duper cute.”

“Awww! You’re whipped,” you tease, dodging the hashbrown Emily throws at you. “I’m serious! It’s great to see you all smiley.”

The sentence is ironically untrue, because Emily is shooting you a death glare. “Whatever. Pen, are you bringing a date to the wedding?”

As Penelope starts to talk about a guy she met at a tech seminar, you let yourself zone out for a moment. The jukebox is still playing, and you’ve finally recognized that it’s the Beatles’ White Album playing; Aaron’s favourite. ‘I Will’ has started to play, and you find yourself getting lost in the lyrics.

Love you forever and forever

Love you with all my heart

Love you whenever we’re together

Love you when we’re apart

You’re on your way to a full-blown spiral in moments; you’re fueled by the memory of a night where you had slow danced in the dark kitchen, which was lit only by a flickering candle. Aaron had taken you into his arms, swayed you around and sang the words under his breath like he didn’t even need you to hear them to know that they were true.

The memory of that night is so clear, so all-consuming that JJ has to snap her fingers in your face to get your attention.

“Hey! Did you hear me? I said, who are you bringing to the wedding?” She asks.

“No one,” you say, hoping she can hear the finality in your voice. “I told you, the date with Aaron was a bust. Besides, you can’t bring a guy to a wedding after one date.”

Everyone goes quiet, and JJ and Emily exchange a look as Penelope says, as soft as possibly, “Who?”

“Darren,” you say impatiently, not noticing your slip up or the way Emily shakes her head at Penelope. “The guy I went out with last week?”

“Right, him. Sorry, I thought- right.”

If you weren’t paying so much attention to your eggs and bacon, you’d notice the silent conversation the girls have just by glancing at each other, each warning the others to tread lightly.

Emily speaks next, her voice tinged with awkwardness like she’d rather not say this. “By the way, you know Hotch will be at the wedding, right?”

Your head snaps up at his name. “What? I mean, yeah, I know.”

Youdidn’tknow, actually. But he still sees Emily every day, he’s her boss and friend, so it only makes sense that he’s been invited.

“Yeah. Well, he was actually talking to me yesterday about inviting… uh, he wanted to bring…” she trails off, eyes darting around like she’s looking for a reason not to keep talking.

“He has a girlfriend,” Penelope blurts, and then throws both hands over her mouth. “Oh!”

The news hits you like a punch; you feel it wallop you, and you take a moment to let it bounce off the shield you’ve put up. You can think about it later, but for now you’re fighting back the emotions coursing through your chest as her words sink in.

“Oh. Okay.” You try to sound confident, but you hear yourself as though you’re speaking into a wind tunnel. It’s small and hoarse, and it’s obvious that no one believes you.

You take another sip of water as JJ says in disbelief, “‘Okay’? You wouldn’t even come within a block of the office for a year after- well, you know.”

God, do you ever. “Yeah, ‘okay’. It’s been, like, two years.” The girls all know about the details of the breakup by now, so you feel comfortable elaborating. “This is what we broke up for, remember? So he can have the family he wants. If that’s her, then good for him.”

“I mean, I guess,” Emily mumbles. “We haven’t met her, yet. So it might not be that serious.”

“Can we drop it? Please?” The topic is exhausting for you to dance so lightly around, and you really don’t get to see your friends often enough since moving. You want to catch up with their lives, primarily the happier aspects. “JJ, how was Henry’s party?”

“It was good!” She’s at the ready with pictures to show you, and you ’ooh’ and ‘ahh’ accordingly as you try not to wonder how Jack’s birthday last month was celebrated.

Did he have a party? Did Aaron’s girlfriend make him his favourite chocolate cupcakes? Did either of your Hotchner boys- no, not yours, not anymore- miss you, and wish you were there?

The rest of brunch goes smoothly, and you leave after a round of hugs and promises to see them on the day of the wedding.

It’s not until you’re in your car on the highway that the punch hits you again, but it feels more like a brick now that you’re alone and your shields are down.

Aaron has a girlfriend.

It’s what you wanted, right?

It’s the very thing you told him to do, just like you said to the girls. You want him to find someone else, make a family with her, and live out every idyllic domestic dream that’s ever crossed his mind. Right?

He deserves it, you’re sure of that. He deserves it more than anyone deserves anything and maybe you’re biased with that thought, or maybe you’re still stuck in that self-sacrificial mindset of two years ago.

He deserves the white picket fence, five or six or twentymore kids, and a couple of dogs. Sometimes you can’t believe that you didn’t realize that sooner, that it didn’t even occur to you that he wantedthat life.

When you were together, he was always more deferential than you. He’d tell you to go ahead and pick the movie, the restaurant, occasionally what colour tie he should wear, and you’d done it all gladly and with a hint of relish.

After all, it was Aaron Hotchner. You’ve never met a more controlled man than him, and the gesture of him giving up that control had lulled you into thinking he truly was happy with everything exactly the way it was.

Now, you’re wondering if those gestures were placating, performative, crafted perfectly to make you feel like you had the control in the relationship. He wouldn’t do it vindictively- wouldn’t do anything vindictively, actually- but he was always just fine with all of your choices.

You still have to wonder what would happen if you’d done the selfish thing and stayed with him.

Would you have changed your mind about having kids? Probably not, but the entire breakup had been strewn with uncharted territory so you can’t say for sure. Would Aaron have settled into the idea of not having his perfect life? That’sthe kicker, the question that reminds you why you did all of this. He had never, not once, demanded you change your mind about anything.

The domestic choices that were left in your hands, the nights spent clubbing with your friends despite being in a relationship, even what birth control you took; Aaron had always accepted your opinions and actions with a smile and a kiss and not a hint of judgement, and he would have gone through hell or high water not to make you feel pressured to change your mind about any of it.

Deep in your heart, you know that he only admitted his unhappiness on that day because you forced his hand. He would have stayed silent and unhappy forever, and maybe him voicing that opinion a little more strongly down the road would have led to an even messier breakup.

You’re in your parking spot outside your apartment now, and you can’t remember driving there. You turn off the car and let your head fall back and hit the headrest, where it stays as you take a deep breath and let it out.

You did the right thing.

So when will you start to believe it?

—————

It’s a Tuesday afternoon a few weeks later and you’re in D.C., looking to purchase a gift shop souvenir for your friend who just had a baby. You haven’t seen her since you moved out of your hometown, but you’ll be visiting her and her family in New York next week and want to bring her a trinket from the place you’ve come to call home.

You find yourself in the Air and Space Museum, weighing your options between a license plate keychain with her name on it and a NASA onesie when you spot a puzzle of the solar system on a nearby table.

The keychain gets hung back in its rightful spot and you keep a grip on the onesie as you reach forward for the puzzle.

Out of nowhere, two little hands snatch the box from the table. When you look down, there’s a little girl- she can’t be older than two or three, you think- standing by your feet, examining the picture on the front of the box.

“Ella!” A woman’s voice rings in your ears, and an attractive woman with a brunette ponytail comes out of nowhere to scoop the toddler up. “Is that yours?” She’s got a smile on her face that she speaks through, her tone teasing and affectionate.

You avert your gaze, feeling a little awkward when Ella giggles and says, “No, Mama!”

“That’s right. Can you let the nice lady take a look at it?” The woman prompts, and out of your peripheral vision you can see the box being thrust in your direction.

You’ve just barely got time to catch it, but you pull it into your chest with one arm. “Oh! Thank you, are you sure you don’t want it?” You ask, unsure if you’re speaking to the mother or her child.

“She just likes the pictures, and my partner is already grabbing her a poster,” the woman explains, thrusting out her free hand. “Sorry about that. I’m Beth, and this is Ella.”

You introduce yourself in turn, then smile down at Ella. She’s a cute kid, and even if you don’t want any of your own that doesn’t mean you don’t like children. “Hi, Ella! This is a pretty picture, huh?” You ask, and she nods up at you while shoving one fist into her little mouth.

“Ah, ah. Remember, we don’t do that,” Beth chides, pulling her hand out gently by the wrist. She sets the girl against her waist, settles in against the table. “So, how many do you have?” She asks, glancing at the onesie in your hand.

“Oh, me? None.” Your response is half-distracted as you return the wave Ella is giving you. “My best friend just had a baby and I’m due to visit her soon. I’m more of a play-with-them-until-the-diaper’s-dirty kind of girl,” you joke.

Beth giggles, and it’s a tinkling sound that makes you wonder if your own laugh is capable of being that beautiful. “Yeah, I can’t say I blame you. Miss Picture Thief here is almost three, and I’m sure we’ve gone through thousands of diapers. Isn’t that right?

She pokes her daughter’s belly, and Ella responds with a squealed giggle. “Yeah, that’s right,” she continues. “My partner is a godsend, though. I think he’s changed more diapers than I have, and he hasn’t even been around for a year yet.”

“So, single motherhood wasn’t very fun?” You instantly wish you could take the words back- you feel snoopy and assumptive, and like you’ve gotten way too personal- but Beth just shakes her head.

“It wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but I can’t imagine not having him around now. Ella adores him, and his son is a sweetheart,” she says, setting Ella down when the girl starts to squirm. “The boys are around here somewhere, I think. My stepson was just looking at a pilot’s tie to get for his dad for Father’s Day.”

“Oh, that’s nice.” Your smile comes a little more forced now. You used to call Jack your stepson, and the comparison seems unfair until you hear a familiar voice behind you, more of a laugh in it than you remember him ever speaking with.

“There’s my girls! We’ve been looking everywhere for you, are you almost ready to go?”

As you watch in horror, Aaron Hotchner brushes past you without a glance to pick up Ella and plant a kiss on each of her cheeks before brushing one to Beth’s lips, a rolled up poster in his hand. “I gave Jack the car keys, so we’d better hurry before-”

The sentence dies in his throat as his eyes lock on yours, reminding you all too well of the car incident. You’re staring back at him, blatant, far too obviously to act like you didn’t see him. You’ve got to say something; you try to will your voice to work, but your mouth just opens and closes a couple of times without any sound coming out.

“Hi.” Aaron is the one who speaks first, his voice betraying exactly how awkward he feels even as he gives you a wooden politician’s smile and holds Ella closer to his chest. “How are you? How’s the fender? I’m sorry, again.”

How are you? That’s a loaded question, and it’s not one you’re prepared to unpack with your ex in front of his new girlfriend and her daughter in a museum gift shop.

“Do you two know each other?” Beth interrupts before you can respond. Thank god, because you’ve got no idea what to say.

“We used to work together,” you respond to her first, and you’re pleasantly surprised by how smoothly your answer comes out. “The car’s just fine, Hotch. No hard feelings. It was nice meeting you, Beth. I’d love to chat, but you should get going after Jack.”

The subtle reminder is half due to you wanting to get away from the happy couple as quickly as possible, and half due to your concern for Jack. He’s gone outside alone, and you’re just as concerned for him now as you were when he was a big part of your life.

Even if you don’t want kids, you’ve always loved him like your own.

No matter the reason behind your suggestion, it works perfectly as your means of ending the conversation and Beth perks up. “That’s right. Let’s go, honey. It was great to meet you!” She adds before heading for the exit.

She’s left you and Aaron, who’s still holding the toddler. Against your will your eyes meet his, and you can’t believe how much emotion- pain, disbelief, maybe sorrow?- you can see held there. You open your mouth again, but before you can say anything else he gives you a sharp nod.

“I hear you’re an asset to the CJIA,” he says. His voice is brittle, hard, a little too business-like. Of course he would bring up work, the one thing he’s always confident in. “I knew you would be.”

“Thanks.” The tight-lipped smile you give him probably screams, I want to get out of here!, because he gives you a little nod and steps back. He’s becoming a little too familiar with what that smile means, but at least he can take the hint.

“I should get going. Jack can be- well, you remember.” His voice softens slightly and he presses his lips together. He holds Ella a little bit tighter, straightening his posture as he starts for the door. “I’ll see you at the wedding.”

“See you then,” you say weakly as the gift shop door swings shut. This time you’re left behind, holding a onesie and a puzzle and standing just as alone as you found yourself two years ago.

The walk from the gift shop to your car is a blur, and when you place the onesie in your passenger seat you have to take a moment to check for a receipt, unable to remember paying for it. Somehow, that’show off-kilter you are from seeing Aaron with- well, there’s no denying it. He was with his new family.

The feeling in your gut is hard to name. You haven’t felt such a confusing jumble of emotion since your last few days with Aaron, so you take a moment and try to pinpoint exactly how you’re feeling.

Blindsided, for one. The shock of the situation coats all of your other feelings like a wool blanket, making it even more difficult to decipher your reaction. You’re a little relieved, maybe, at the clear confirmation that your sacrifice wasn’t for nothing.

It wasn’t, was it? Aaron has the life, has the family, has the future he wanted. It’s still a bittersweet thing to think about, because you still can’t even pick up a damn bag of Lay’s chips without spiralling over a guy you dated almost two entire years ago.

Whatever embarrassment that fact held before today has been amplified tenfold, and it echoes in your head alongside Aaron’s voice. Thinking too hard about the way he’d greeted ‘his girls’ brings the taste of bile to your mouth, so you try your best to forget all about it, forget all about how he’d kissed Beth and held her child. It had been in such a fatherly manner, like he truly viewed Ella as his own daughter.

You try to forget the tone of voice he’d greeted them in; the tone he used to greet you in. You try to forget the look in his eyes when he’d seen them, shining with a sort of happiness that you can’t recall ever seeing. He is happier, and that’s beyond any shade or shadow of doubt.

You did the right thing.

This is proof, undeniable and steadfast, that he’s happier now. That’s what you wanted, that’s all you asked for out of this whole mess that’s come back to haunt you, so why does it hurt so badly? Why can’t you be satisfied with the knowledge that he’s happy, even if you’re not, when that’s the choice that you made?

Did you do the right thing?

The right thing for him, maybe. For you? Maybe not.

—————

Because the universe is just that kind, Emily’s wedding falls on the following Saturday. It’s just enough time to pull yourself together after meeting Beth. Just enough time to look in the mirror and practice putting on a smile despite the knowledge that you’re going to be seeing Aaron and Beth for most of the day.

God, you wish Emily and Katie had decided on a child-free wedding. It’s not as feasible, since more than a few of their friends are parents, but your heart pangs at the thought of seeing Jack again.

You arrive at Rossi’s house a couple of hours before the ceremony to help Emily get ready and talk her down from any kind of cold feet or last-minute nerves. She’s always been flighty, unable to settle in one place too long, so you’re expecting her to be in a panic when you arrive.

Instead, she greets you with a big smile on her face. She’s positively exuding excitement as she says, “Today’s the day!”

“It is!” You hug her tightly as JJ and Penelope file into the room behind you, the three of you having been assigned as her co-maids of honour.

The morning flies by between mimosas, makeup, and listening to Emily gush about her fiancée. By the time you have to go downstairs to the ceremony you’ve gotten into the mood of celebration, and you’re giggling with Penelope about something or other while JJ helps Emily adjust her veil.

“Go ahead,” Emily insists, waving a hand towards the door. “We’ll be down in a minute.”

“If you insist.” You roll your eyes good-naturedly, then exit with Penelope. “What was that about? Does she have a favourite maid of honour?” You joke, until you see the look on your friend’s face. “What, what’s wrong?”

She glances down the staircase to where everyone is starting to gather on the lawn. As you observe with her, you find your eyes drawn to Aaron. He’s alone, talking into a cell phone. He hangs up, puts the phone into his pocket. You watch him turn on a heel, look up the staircase, and immediately his eyes lock on yours.

Neither of you look away for a long moment, until Penelope speaks and catches your attention.

“We have to go now. Are you ready?” She asks, purple-painted lips pursed in concern.

You take a deep breath, looking over at her. “I have to be, right?”

Without another word, you both walk downstairs and outside to the lawn. Aaron has disappeared in the minute you looked away, so you let Penelope lead you to where the bridal parties are assembling.

To your horror, Aaron is waiting there with Derek and a couple of Katie’s friends.

He’s speaking into a phone again, and you can hear him say “Just keep me updated,” in a soft tone over the ringing in your ears before he hangs up and starts talking to one of Katie’s friends.

Penelope grabs a piece of paper, scanning the names on it. “I’ve got good news and bad news,” she announces, quiet enough that only you can hear it. “And they’re the same news. You’re walking with Hotch.”

Hell no.

“Are you sure?” You grab the paper from her, and sure enough your name is next to his. “Can I switch?”

She shakes her head. “No, it looks like Beth didn’t show up. But you’re right behind me and Derek, and it’ll be over in a couple of minutes. It shouldn’t be long now.”

As if on queue, music starts to play and she pulls you into a quick hug before Derek and Aaron start to walk over. “You’ve got this,” she promises, sliding her arm into Derek’s.

Aaron steps up next to you, adjusts his tie with one hand and offers you his arm. “Hi. Are you ready?”

“Hi. Yeah, um…” the shake of your arm is visible as you link it with his, and the two of you start on the slowest walk of your life.

About halfway down the aisle- why the hell is this walkway so long?- he murmurs, “You never called. About the car.”

“Yeah, well, can you blame me?” Your reply is a bit snapped, and he can obviously tell.

He tenses slightly, tightening his arm around yours. “You can’t do this. We can’t do this, not-”

“Not today, I know. I’m sorry,” you whisper, and you see him shake his head slightly out of the corner of your eye.

“Not today, not ever. You…” he takes a deep breath. “If it’s going to be like this, us seeing each other, you can’t look like you’re going to pass out or throw up every time you look at me. We can’t keep doing this. We can be friendly, at least.”

You don’t respond. What can you say to that? He’s right, and you both know it.

The rest of the walk is silent until you reach the altar, where he lets you go. “Think about it,” are his last words before he goes to stand on Katie’s side next to Derek.

When you move to stand next to Penelope, she asks you a question but you can’t hear it. You’re thinking too hard, about a million different things,

You’re so lost in your own thoughts and feelings- selfish, selfish, selfish- that the ceremony is one big blur. You clap at the appropriate times, ‘aww’ with the crowd during the sickly sweet vows that have both women wiping away tears, and cheer at Katie and Emily’s first kiss as a married couple, but you feel like you’re on another planet the whole time.

It’s not until the reception has started and there’s a drink in your hand that Penelope corners you to effectively shake you out of the glassy-eyed daze that you’ve been in since you heard, Think about it.

“I know you said you’re fine-” she starts, and you cut her off with a groan.

“Pen, not this again. I don’t want to think about it, please. I amfine.” You insist.

Penelope has been with the BAU long enough, so you really shouldn’t be surprised that she’s picked up a few things. Either that, or she just knows how to read you in particular. “If you were fine, you wouldn’t have a problem thinking about it. Actually, this is thetime to think about it. We’re at a wedding! You can’t tell me you’re not thinking about it.”

“I didn’t say that,” you sigh, relaxing into the hug she gives you. All you’ve done is think about it. “But it’s Emily’s day. And besides, he’s happier than I’ve ever seen him. She’s good for him. She makes him smile.”

There’s a long moment of silence. Then, “You made him smile.”

“Don’t,” you warn, but she’s not done talking.

“You made him just as happy. He wasn’t miserable when you two were together. I know I’m not supposed to tell you that, but it’s true. Stop thinking he was bitter the whole time because you didn’t offer to have his babies, or whatever.”

By the time she’s done speaking, your cup is empty. “He wants to be friends, I think.”

“See? That’s a good thing, right?” She presses, and if anyone other than Penelope was talking to you like this you’d have pushed them away long before now. “He wants you in his life.”

“No one asked what I want, Pen!” Your voice is carrying a little bit, but you can’t be bothered to care. Your frustration is bubbling up, and you let it slip for once. “Maybe I can’t be around him. Maybe I can’thave him in my life.”

You wish that were true more than anything. It hurts, not having Aaron around. Before becoming your partner, he’d been your friend for years. He was an integral part of your life for the whole time you were at the BAU, and cutting him out completely has always left a bitter taste in your mouth.

But letting him get close again, knowing that it can never be the same as it was? That thought scares you more than anything.

Penelope doesn’t have a chance to respond before Rossi is tapping his glass, standing up to make a speech.

“To the happy couple,” he says, holding out his wine glass in Emily and Katie’s direction. “And the celebration of being with loved ones.”

It’s a short speech, but everyone cheers and takes a sip as you and Penelope walk back towards the dance floor where everyone is mingling.

“You can’t?” She asks softly, glancing over towards Aaron. He’s chatting with Emily. She’s got an arm around her wife, and both of them look as happy as could be. Why wouldn’t they be? They’re married, happy together, and surrounded by their friends.

Their friends, the people who matter most to them. It makes you think that maybe you can be friendly, or at the very least you could do your best to fake it for tonight. It’s what Emily and Katie deserve, not to mention everyone else who’s been putting up with this awkwardness for two years.

Aaron’s eyes dart up over Katie’s shoulder and meet yours, and you watch as he excuses himself to head towards you.

No, no, no. Not after your little outburst earlier; what if he heard it?

But you did decide to be friendly, so you plaster on a smile when he approaches you. “Hi. Where’s the- where’s your family?”

“Jack had a stomach flu, and Beth thinks he passed it to her and Ella,” he murmurs. “Have you thought about what I said?”

You take a deep breath. You did the right thing. “I did. I can be friendly. I’m sorry for…”

He holds up a hand and then extends it to you. “Forget about it. Will you dance with me?”

He can’t be serious. You can’t dance with your ex at a wedding that his girlfriend and kids couldn’t attend. “Really?” You try to sound unimpressed, and not hopeful. It’s a pathetic attempt, but he either doesn’t notice or gracefully ignores it.

“Really.” He smiles at you, really smiles, and you’ve missed that grin so much that it makes you ache. “If we’re going to be friends, dance with me.”

Against your better judgement, you give him your hand and let Aaron lead you to the dance floor.

As he pulls you close, a slow jazz song starts to play. Aaron’s arms wrap around your waist and yours slide up around his shoulders, and the two of you sway together like you’ve got years of practice.

You do.

It feels warm, and natural, and you ignore the part of your brain that says this could have been your wedding. You ignore everything except the feeling of Aaron’s chest pressed against yours until you hear the rumble of his voice near your ear.

“Talk to me,” he requests, voice soft enough to avoid attracting attention. “What is it? I can tell you’re thinking about something.”

You sigh against him, letting your eyes slide shut. “Don’t worry about it. Please.”

“I’m going to worry. You know that you can tell me,” he coaxes, like you’re a stray dog he’s trying to pet. “Come on. It’s me.”

“Yeah. It’s you.” Unshed tears sting your eyes. You fight them, because it’s him. The root cause of your self-inflicted pain, and still the one person you can tell anything to. The only person who has always understood how you think, how you feel.

It’s hard for you to even describe how you feel, but if anyone could understand, it’s Aaron.

“Do you ever regret it?” Your words are a whisper into the fabric of his suit jacket. “Actually, don’t answer that.”

One of his hands comes up to rub soothing circles on your back but he doesn’t change anything else, doesn’t say a word as though he can sense that you aren’t done speaking. The confession pours out of you, spurred on by the wine in your system and the general wedding atmosphere.

“I want you to be happy. That’s all I wanted,” you say, and you know that he believes you. “But I just- I don’t know. It feels like I’m lying to myself, trying to convince myself that I don’t love you anymore. That I hate you. And that’s not fair, I know that.”

“It’s not,” he agrees, his voice silky soft against your shoulder. “But if it’s how you feel…”

“But it’s not. I’m fine, and then sometimes, out of the blue, I feel like I’d do anything in the world for you to say that I’m yours. I know you’re happy, and I don’t- I don’t want to mess that up, or make you think that things could have been different. I just…” You pull away to wipe at your undereyes, hoping that your mascara isn’t starting to smudge. “I don’t know. I sound insane, don’t I?”

“No.” He’s firm on that as he brings up a thumb to brush away a black makeup smear. “You aren’t insane. You’re healing, and that’s not always quick or easy.”

You watch as he hesitates, obviously battling with whether he should keep talking. He drops his hand and wraps it back around your waist, holding you slightly further away now.

“But,” he adds, inhaling deeply, “You wouldn’t do anything for me to say- you know. You wouldn’t. You didn’t, so don’t say that. I know it wasn’t easy on either of us, but I’m happy with Beth. Maybe not in the same way, but I am. And Garcia and Prentiss talk enough at work that I know you’ve been happy, too. It took me a while to come to terms with, but you did the right thing for both of us.”

Aaron leans in, pressing his lips to your forehead as the current song draws to a close. “You did the right thing,” he repeats when he pulls away. The words should be a balm, soothing the question you’ve been berating yourself with every time he crossed your mind for two years. Instead, in the moment of silence between songs, you wonder if he can hear the shattering of whatever’s left of your heart.

“Guys, come on over!” Emily hollers, both of her hands cupped around her mouth like a megaphone. “Snacks are here!”

“Are you okay?” Aaron says quietly, gaze flickering to where the team is waiting.

You give him a thin smile. “I might need a minute, actually. You go on, I’ll be right over.”

His hand drops to yours and he squeezes it twice, a silent show of support before he lumbers over to your friends. You watch while he sits down, instantly falling into a conversation with Spencer like he’s already forgotten your moment together on the dance floor.

Yourmoment together? No, no. That’s not what it was. It was a situation, and an awkward one at that. You can’t believe that you opened up so much to him, but Aaron has always had a quality about him that makes you feel safe, and listened to.

Despite the outcome of the situation- which was, realistically, about as good as you could have asked for- you did feel safe talking to him. Some things never change, and Aaron Hotchner being a comforting person is one of them.

You watch as he reaches for a hot Cheeto- that’s new, and you wonder if Beth convinced him to try them- and the team howls with laughter over something Spencer said. They look like a family, one that you miss being a cohesive part of.

The team is important to one another, and Aaron is important to you. Now, there’s a part of you thinking that maybe, just maybe, you could be okay with having him in your life again, as a friend. You’ll have to wait and see.

—————

Three days later, you’re on a train headed to see your friend with a NASA onesie tucked into your bag. The trip comes with good timing; after your conversation with Aaron, you need some time to decompress and enjoy yourself without a single reminder of him.

It’ll be good to have even more space between the two of you, at least while you come to terms with everything that happened at the wedding. The conductor’s voice comes over the speaker system and announces your departure, and you get your ticket ready.

In no time at all you’re on your way to New York, trying desperately to forget the question that has yet to stop haunting you when you think of the way Aaron kissed your forehead and held you while you danced.

Did you do the right thing?

—————

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