Safe Haven ~ ✨Aaron Hotchner✨

Chapter 45

A few weeks had passed since they had brought Sophia home, and in that time, their world had shifted in ways neither of them had fully anticipated. The peaceful moments in the hospital, where they had marveled at their daughter in awe, had quickly been replaced with the reality of life with a newborn—one that was exhausting, messy, and unpredictable. Yet, somehow still the most beautiful thing either of them had ever experienced.

The First Few Weeks

The first night home had been deceptively easy. Sophia had slept in her bassinet beside their bed, only waking a few times to nurse before falling right back to sleep. Y/N had thought, Maybe this won't be so bad.

That illusion was shattered by the second night.

Sophia had been wide awake at two in the morning, wailing inconsolably. Nothing had soothed her—not being rocked in Y/N's arms, not the soft lullabies she hummed, not the warmth of Aaron's chest. It had taken nearly two hours of walking the length of their bedroom, swaying back and forth, before she had finally drifted off.

Aaron had taken one look at Y/N's exhausted face and whispered, "Go sleep. I've got her."

And he had, for as long as Sophia had allowed. But then she'd woken up again. And again.

By the end of that first week, they had both come to terms with one undeniable fact: newborns did not care if their parents were sleep-deprived.

Neither of them had ever been strangers to exhaustion—long hours at work, endless cases, nights spent pouring over evidence—but this? This was an entirely new level of bone-deep tiredness.

Y/N could barely remember what a full night's sleep felt like. She had mastered the art of dozing off in fifteen-minute increments, and Aaron had learned how to function with a baby in one arm and a coffee cup in the other.

There were nights when Sophia refused to be put down. She would scream the moment her tiny body left their warmth, making it impossible for either of them to sleep. On those nights, Aaron would take her, pressing her against his chest and pacing the room, whispering to her.

One particular night, Y/N had woken up at three in the morning to find Aaron sitting on the edge of the bed, cradling Sophia against his bare chest. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion, but he didn't complain. Instead, he simply held her close, rubbing soothing circles along her back.

Y/N had smiled sleepily. "You okay?"

Aaron chuckled softly. "Define okay."

Y/N had shifted, pressing a kiss to his shoulder before running a finger along Sophia's tiny hand. "She's got you wrapped around her little finger already."

Aaron had smirked. "Yeah. She does."

Breastfeeding had been a learning curve—one filled with moments of frustration, discomfort, and exhaustion.

Sophia had a strong appetite, waking every two to three hours, and every feeding session was a battle against her tiny, impatient wails.

There were times Y/N had cried from sheer exhaustion, her body aching, her eyes stinging from lack of sleep. Aaron had been her rock through it all, sitting beside her in the dimly lit nursery, rubbing her back as she fed their daughter.

"You're amazing," he would whisper against her hair. "I know this is hard, but you're doing so well."

There were times when she had barely been able to keep her eyes open, and Aaron had taken over, pacing the nursery with Sophia, rocking her gently until she settled.

One particularly exhausting night, after Sophia had finally latched and quieted down, she had opened her eyes and given Aaron the stare.

Y/N had nearly choked on her exhaustion-laced laughter. "Oh my God, she's already mastered the Hotchner stare."

Aaron had glanced at their daughter and let out a tired chuckle. "Great. Now there are two of us."

Despite the sleepless nights, the endless diaper changes, and the moments of pure exhaustion, there were so many moments that made it all worth it.

The way Sophia curled into Aaron's chest when she slept.

The soft little coos she made when she stretched in the morning.

The first time she smiled at them, her tiny face lighting up with pure innocence.

Jack had been a constant source of joy in it all. He adored his baby sister, always wanting to help with diaper changes, insisting on reading bedtime stories to her—even though she was still too little to understand.

One night, after an especially long day, Y/N had walked into the nursery to find Aaron sitting in the rocking chair, Sophia nestled against his chest, Jack curled up beside him, reading her a bedtime story about superheroes.

Y/N had frozen in the doorway, taking in the sight, her heart swelling.

Aaron had looked up, giving her a small, tired smile. "She's got the best big brother."

Jack had grinned. "She's my sidekick."

Y/N had laughed softly. "She's your sidekick?"

Jack had nodded solemnly. "Yeah. Every hero needs a sidekick."

Y/N had walked over, pressing a kiss to both of their heads. "She's lucky to have you, buddy."

Jack had puffed out his chest proudly. "I'll always protect her."

Aaron had smiled, brushing a hand over his son's hair. "I know you will."

As the weeks passed, they started to find a rhythm.

The exhaustion never fully went away, but they had learned to function on minimal sleep. Y/N had learned to nap when Sophia napped, and Aaron had become an expert at soothing their daughter with nothing more than a low, steady hum.

Some days felt overwhelming, where the house was a mess, the laundry piled up, and they barely had time to eat. But through it all, they had each other.

One night, after finally getting Sophia to sleep, they collapsed onto the couch together, Y/N curled against Aaron's side.

"We survived another day," Y/N mumbled against his chest.

Aaron let out a tired chuckle. "Barely."

She looked up at him, smiling. "Wouldn't trade it for anything, though."

Aaron pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Me neither."

They sat there in silence, listening to the quiet hum of the baby monitor, their exhaustion momentarily forgotten.

Because despite the sleepless nights and the never-ending exhaustion, they had everything they had ever wanted.