0.3 scars are beautiful

1.2K 20 18
                                    

TW: scars, self harm

---------------------------------------------

"Hey Hey Hey.. Dont cry Hotch." He stares at me startled.

------------------------------------------------

"Hotch what are you crying about? I'm fine!"

He looks at my arms, the same ones covered in scars.

I look down. shit. how was i going to explain this?

"oh- Hotch those are old."

Hotch smiles, but clearly disagrees.

"Y/N, I am a profiler, i'm not that dumb. I know why you did it. No need to explain."

"Hotch-"

"its okay, y/n" Hotch smiles while having a sparkle in his eyes.

GOD those eyes.

His dark brown eyes.

I must've been staring for a while because next thing I know he is an inch from my face.

I focus back in and he is against the wall again. I had butterflies in my stomach. I close my eyes.

Emily walks back in finally, with my water.

"Thank you Em." I smile and I take a small sip.

I watch as her and Hotch go into the hall. They talk for a couple mins and peacefully walk back in.

I try and get up but they wont let me they lay me back down.

"I wanna go to work!" I say.

"You can't. Not for a couple weeks. You had major surgery." Hotch states simply.

The way his lips fall down when he says 'couple', gives me butterflies and how they slowly pull apart.

*time change to: 2 weeks later*

Finally. I can walk and leave. I love hospitals.

But right now, I miss work. I miss Morgan, Reid, Rossi, Penelope, JJ. All of them. Even if they did visit me. I still miss them all.

I bet that Hotch caught Rossi up with what had happened since he had been in a seminar in LA.

I walk to Hotch's car, he helps me in. Hotch has always had a soft spot for me.

I look over to him getting into the car. I watch as he pulls the seatbelt over me, softly. grazing my scar.

I wince, it still hurts a little but nothing some ibuprofen can't handle.

He buckles me in, and we head down towards my house.

"Grab a bag, and pack some clothes. You can't stay here."

"What- why?"

"This house will trigger PTSD, you need to be in a household that doesn't do that, so you'll be living with me and Jack."

Jack. His 10 year old son.

"Oh, Ok." I grabbed all my clothes.

I walk out the door, I see the the last two years in scenes as i walk through my hallway and out my door. I see all the fights, all the gifts, and all the blood.

I walk back to his car. I get in and I hope i never see this house again.

I hope i never go through any of this again.

I hope i can be happy.

Next moment we were at my house but now i am at a house that i have no memories with, no abuse, and no scars. no trama. like a safe house.

broken bones {aaron hotchner x reader} ~ unfinished/discontinuing?Where stories live. Discover now