ALEX | a. hotchner (sequel to BLAKE)

7

I was invited into a dark house, beyond the walls people would normally assume were the boundaries of the dwelling. Behind them was a house of horrors, people trapped below the floorboards, seen through areas with missing planks. I left, and upon leaving shots were fired and I hid behind a friend, more specifically, I hid behind Penelope. She took the bullets for me.

After the second shot the scene shifted. I was in Rose's and mine's apartment, I knew I was dreaming and that everything I saw wasn't real. I was desperately trying to wake up, I was screaming for help and yet nobody came. I left my bedroom on my hands and knees, clawing my way to the kitchen. I got the feeling that someone was in there with me, and so I asked myself if the apartment looked right, were there any signs that I was not, in fact, standing in my old living room with a strange man lying on the couch. And then he was on top of me, pinning me down on the floor. I screamed at him to let me go but he kept pressing his body against mine. It felt like I would die from the pain in my brain, my skin was as the surface of boiling water, my hands full of blisters, filled with toxins trying to escape my skin. I knew I was breathing, but it felt like my lungs were drowning.

And then the weight was lifted from me, the man gone, vanished. Then there were feet in front me, I looked up and Rose's face was staring down at me. She was pale, dead. I cried at her feet, seeking her forgiveness, desperately craving it. She grabbed me by my arms and pulled me up from the floor, shaking me violently. She told me repeatedly to wake up, I'm trying, I answered her. I closed my eyes tightly and while telling myself to pull it together, the shaking became worse. Earthquake, I thought. Everything started to fall around me, I could feel it. I could hear things breaking against the floor, people being crushed, and screaming, so much screaming.

I opened my eyes, I was on the floor and someone was holding me close to their chest. I recognized the table and the boards, I was in the briefing room. I let out a long breath, I had fallen asleep on the couch, I was safe. I reached out and grabbed a hold of the person's tie as I breathed heavily. It was Aaron, I could smell him, just like home's supposed to smell like. His hand was brushing back the hair stuck on my face, the other on my waist with his thumb rubbing circles against my skin.

My breathing became deeper, I could feel my heartbeat slowing down, every single pound in my chest was like being punched. My ears were ringing but I could hear the faint, steady, deep voice of Aaron Hotchner in the background and I clung to it desperately. I buried my head into the nape of his neck, his collar becoming a darker blue than the rest of the shirt. I took three deep breaths, feeling the vibration of his steady and calm voice.

"It was just a dream, Alex, you're alright," he whispered gently into my ear.

I moved my head from his chest and leveled my eyes with his. "I'm sorry," I breathed, "I didn't think I was ever going to wake up."

"I know," he said and brushed a few tears away from my cheeks with his thumb, "you were screaming."

"I was?"

He nodded, "Anderson found you but he couldn't wake you, he said you were screaming at him to let you go," he said. "He met us at the entrance, said you were screaming for help one moment, and begging for forgiveness the next," he frowned, as if he was trying to explain something he himself didn't understand.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, "I didn't mean to scare him."

"Don't worry about Anderson, he's handled worse."

"Wait," I shook my head, "he met you at the entrance? Where were you?"

He sighed and looked away, reluctant to tell me.

"The unsub came back for Garcia," he finally said and I sat up straight.

"WHAT-"

"She's fine," he cut me off, "Morgan was with her and she's fine," he reassured me.