hotchniss one-shots

Some People

emily's pov

I walk into the viewing room that's adjacent to the interrogation room Hotch is in with the unsub, wanting to see if he has got any extra information out of him.

Closing the door behind me, I start to listen in.

"You were just responding to what you learnt Vincent," I hear Hotch saying. "When you grow up in an environment like that, an extremely abusive, violent household, it's not surprising that some people grow up to be killers."

At that moment, the door opens, and a few agents come in ready to transfer the unsub, subsequently ending the interrogation.

"Some people?" the unsub calls out, just as Hotch stands up.

"What's that?" he asks, turning back around to face him.

"You said some people grow up to become killers."

After a few moments of silence, Hotch answers.

"And some people grow up to catch them," he says, his voice breaking ever so slightly.

I notice him dip his head slightly, before turning to leave the room.

It takes me a few seconds to realise what he meant by that, but when I do, I feel my breath catch in my throat.

I push the door of the viewing room open, just in time to see the unsub turn around to make eye contact with Hotch, before he's led away by the other agents.

Clearly not noticing me standing there, he turns and starts to walk away, running a hand over his head.

"Hotch," I call after him as softly as I can, yet it still seems to startle him.

As he turns around, I notice the tears in his eyes, which are quickly joined by a look of panic as he realises that I'd been in the viewing room.

"Is everything okay?" He asks, and I can tell he's hoping I didn't hear anything.

"I think I should be the one asking you that," I respond, taking a few steps forwards so that I was stood in front of him.

"Damn it," he mutters under his breath, realising that I heard what he'd said in the interrogation room.

Looking around to make sure nobody saw us, I grab his arm, and drag him into a storage closet that's a few feet from where we were stood.

"What are you doing?" He asks, glancing over his shoulder just as I close the door behind us.

"You heard, didn't you?" he sighs, and I nod, keeping my eyes on his the whole time.

He's trying to hide it, but I can see that he's trying not to cry. I reach out and rest my hand on his arm, and finally, he looks back at me.

It's almost like something inside him breaks at that moment. He turns away from me, so he's facing the wall, and I can hear him sobbing quietly.

I've not been in the BAU long, but already I can tell that Hotch is the sort of person that keeps his emotions to himself, that doesn't want people knowing about his past or his private life.

Not quite sure what to do, I take a step closer, and put my hand on his back, rubbing it gently in an attempt to comfort him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask gently.

After a few seconds of silence, I think he's going to leave, but instead, he sighs and turns to sit on the floor. I crouch down, sitting beside him.

"It started when I was five," Hotch says quietly. "It wasn't that bad to start with, it would only be occasionally when he was drunk or in a bad mood, and he'd take it out on me."

I take a deep breath, and slowly reach out to take his hand in mine. Much to my surprise, he doesn't pull away, instead accepting the small gesture.

"It got worse as I got older, especially after Sean was born. I didn't want him to have to go through what I had so I..."

"You took the beatings for him as well as yourself," I finished, knowing that was what he'd been about to say. Hotch nodded silently, confirming that I was right.

"Sean didn't know about any of it, neither did my mom. In fact, you're the first person who's found out," he laughs sadly.

I squeeze his hand slightly, not knowing what else to do.

After a few seconds, Hotch stands up, wiping away his tears with the sleeve of his suit jacket.

As I stand up too, he turns to me once again.

"You can't tell anyone about any of this, please," he says, his eyes pleading and desperate.

"I won't, I promise," I respond, smiling sadly at  him.

Just as he was about to leave, I reach out to stop him.

"If you ever want to talk about this, or anything, you can come to me, you know that right?" I say, and he looks me in the eye.

"Thank you," he says, and I can tell by his tone that he genuinely means it.

Just as he looks like he's about to say something else, we're interrupted by the door handle to the storage room turning, and Derek stepping through the door.

As soon as he notices us, his eyes widen slightly, and he looks extremely confused. I realise then that my hands still on Hotch's arm, so I let it drop to my side, thinking desperately for an explanation.

"I- um, you know what, I think I'm going to come back later," Derek says, his eyes darting between Hotch and I.

"Morgan," Hotch calls out, and Derek turns back towards him. "It's not what it looks like."

"Sure, okay," he responds, nodding his head aggressively, but as he walks away, I hear him muttering under his breath, "God, what did I just walk into?"

I glanced up at Hotch, and the second I catch his eye, we both start to laugh. The fact that Derek is completely wrong about what he thinks he saw just makes the whole thing even funnier.

"We should get back to work before anyone else gets any wrong ideas," Hotch chuckles, and I nod, stepping out into the hallway behind him and smiling.