Against Protocol (Aaron Hotchner X Reader)

chapter fourteen: pleasant distractions

"Foyet?" Rossi asks cautiously, surveying the note again in disbelief. "The same Foyet that's six feet underground? There's no way he could have done this."

The team studies the note again, this time reading between the lines; they had to have missed something. And as quickly as you arrived, the welcoming celebration for your return quickly dissipated into anxiety and vigilance.

"Reid, what can you tell us from the note, the language? Is there anything to indicate if Foyet had a partner," Hotch asks, turning away from the team as he paced back and forth, fingers twiddling against each other apprehensively. 

"Unlikely," you interrupt. "Foyet's profile is that of a typical narcissist. He's unable to see someone as an intellectual equal. He wouldn't trust someone to help him, not as a partner."

Upon your transfer to the BAU, just a few days later after Strauss gave you the job, you fervently studied the Reaper case — even though the team had made an effort of avoiding. You had to know what caused such a shake in the team dynamics, what warranted Strauss to bring in a new agent. 

"Reid?" Hotch asks again, ignoring your analysis. Prentiss looks over at you sympathetically noticing Hotch's quick dismissal, trying to give you a warm look of comfort as the briefing room silently turns hostile. 

"Well, the language is personal — unlike Foyet's. They use vocabulary that is typically associated with singular identity while taking the time to separate Hotch from the collective team," Reid stammers out, wary of Hotch's cold demeanor staring him down. "This note is evidently new, meaning Foyet didn't write this before he died. Simply put, this could just be a copycat."

"A really good copycat," Rossi mutters out absently. 

Garcia unfolds the envelope she had intertwined in her hand and slips out another loose piece of paper, a ripped out scrap with random numbers and words scrawled on it, distinguishably Hotch's straight handwriting. Brooks. 

"What is that?" Prentiss inquires as Garcia drops it on the table like her fingers burned just at the touch of it. 

"This was in the envelope too," Garcia explains, her voice cracking as she looks back at the victims on the screen. You knew Garcia would blame herself for these deaths, even if she had nothing to do with it. 

Prentiss examines it closely, biting the inside of her cheek as she comes to the realization. "This is a piece from Hotch's phone book, remember? The one Foyet had ripped out when he was at Hotch's with Haley's information."

"That's impossible," Hotch reveals quickly, but his voice was tainted with fear more than anything. The usual deep bellow of his voice slightly faltered, catching the attention of the team. "A copycat wouldn't have that, and Foyet wouldn't give that up to just anyone."

"We need to take a step back," Derek reminds the team, grounding all of you back to the case before running with absurd accusations. You and the team had always teased Derek just for being a pretty face, but, when it came down to it, he was the voice of reason and ration. "The note says to look at the victims. The unsub has been trying to distract us by bringing in Foyet."

"Right," JJ agrees, running through the list of victims again. And as much as it hurts her to look at the blonde woman on the screen, who left two children and a husband behind as a part of the unsub's sick, twisted fantasy, she maintains her composure. 

"They're us if we weren't in the BAU. Except, two victims are missing: Y/N and Aaron," Rossi announces. 

You look over to Hotch, but he doesn't return the glance. His gaze is dead set, steadied on the floor, like the ground beneath him was about to give out the moment he looked away. Although he would never admit it, there's something unmistakably exposed and soft-spoken about his stance.