Phoenix | S.R.

Intermission

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has been reading along! This next section I wrote doesn't fit very neatly into the rest of the story, but I really wanted to show everyone JJ's POV during this story. I hope that you enjoy this brief intermission while I continue to edit the rest of the series.

Please remember that blatant misogynistic vitriol is not appreciated and will be deleted. As much as it sucks the position she is in, it is her job. Same goes for Hotch.

Summary: Hotch confronts JJ over a game of Scrabble.

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You know that feeling when you were a kid where you did something wrong? That moment, when the silence finally comes and the reality of what you've done hits you like a ton of bricks? Your heart feels like its filled with rocks but is still somehow running in overdrive.

Imagine yourself, standing and staring in a mirror and simultaneously praying that your parents call your name so you can confess... but also hoping that you can whisk yourself away to a fantasy world where the consequences of your actions can be borne by someone else. Someone stronger than you feel in that moment.

Just a kid who felt so terribly awful about what they'd done.

Standing outside of Hotch's office felt a lot like that.

I knew the moment he had called me what the visit would be about, but I still couldn't convince myself to open the door. Because I knew that as soon as I did, it would all come to an end.

But this wasn't only about me. As much as I'd suffered, and as much as my own complacency tormented me every hour both waking and asleep, I knew that the future would prove more painful for Spencer.

That wasn't even to say what it would be like for (y/n). I couldn't even begin to fathom the grief. It made me sick just to think of it.

So, I gathered all the courage I could and entered the door with as much grace and civility as I could muster. I'm certain I still quivered like a child being scolded.

It was only a matter of seconds before he spoke up. His voice was cold and calculated and entirely unlike him.

"JJ, sit down. We need to talk."

Great.

"Okay... What about?"

I knew it wasn't the best move to play dumb, but I didn't know how else I was meant to keep it together. The constant feigned ignorance felt like a second version of myself. If I let the mask slip, I was afraid that the truth would come tumbling out of my mouth with it.

It was hard to even let myself breath freely around Hotch because I knew that he'd needed me as badly as I'd needed him. And the impossibly heavy walls were closing in on us until we were both cracking from the pressure. Thick walls and sturdy oak barely seemed strong enough to hold it in.

When he finally looked up from his desk, I could see the tension in his clenched jaw and hands clasped together tightly in front of him.

It was time to face the consequences.

"It's come to my attention that you've been interacting with Reid."

My mouth dropped open to defend myself, but he quickly held a hand up in warning.

"Don't. I understand this is very difficult but you should realize how serious this is. If I found out, it's only a matter of time before other people find out."

I bit down on my tongue like I'd always done. I took a deep breath and avoided the chastisement in his eyes. I didn't want to see the bitterness of jealousy that I had been weak enough to break the rules.

I wasn't looking for his pity or understanding because I knew I would receive neither. I'm not entirely sure what I had been looking for. Forgiveness, perhaps. But it wouldn't work; it wasn't his forgiveness that I needed.

Folding forward just enough that my stomach didn't feel like it were tearing open from the guilt, I tried to laugh as I responded, "Hotch, with all due respect it's just... games of Scrabble between strangers on the internet."

"Is it?" he shot back with even more frustration.

The tension fell from his shoulders, and instead transitioned to hands firmly placing pictures with screenshots of my phone. I didn't need to read the board to know what he was challenging.

Flower, Bottle, Stork.

"These aren't random words."

Folding no longer felt right. I knew I wouldn't get out of it, but I tried to scrape my dignity out of my mess and I sat up straighter. I looked him directly in the eyes and I tried to stop my voice from breaking as I finally admitted, "No. They aren't."

"They're not about you, either, are they?"

I scoffed because I'd expected the disapproval in his voice. But we would both be lying if we pretended like he couldn't fathom why I would want to tell Spence. Like it wasn't the most earth-shattering news he would ever learn, that someone was pregnant with his child while thinking that he was dead.

As if there weren't repercussions that could alter everything. Heaven knows what would happen if (Y/n) ended up deciding she wasn't able to carry through with the pregnancy without him, only to find out that he had been available all along.

As if I was expected to live with myself when he rose from the dead and I lost them both. An abandonment that would never be able to match what horror I'd done to them.

"Aaron," I tried to appeal, 'He deserves to know."

But Hotch just sighed. He looked down at the picture one more time before he met me with that signature apathetic stare. It was always a lie. I could see the way it hid the pain.

He was always the stronger of the two of us. Maybe I resented him a little bit for that, too. Maybe we deserved to hate each other for this.

"You know he can't."

"He's a smart guy, Hotch— he's a genius! He-he's not going to risk everything over it. I can't sit here and lie to him about— that, of all things!"

"Stop."

His voice was stern, and the single syllable halted all other noise. It was silent until he heard the pathetic, uneasy breath as I collapsed back into my chair. The proverbial white flag of my own apathy.

"JJ, it makes sense you want to tell him. I do, too. But... unless you can look me in the eye and tell me he wouldn't be on a plane home tonight..."

He was right. I knew he was right.

There were few things in the world that Spencer would give up everything for. This was one of them.

"He can't know," he repeated.

Nodding numbly in response, I mumbled to him as I stood up to leave, "Understood, sir."

"And JJ," he called as my hand fell on the door handle, "I'm sorry. To all three of you."

I tried to remind myself that there was a strong possibility that this wouldn't be forever. One day, he would know the truth.

I just hoped that it wouldn't be too late.