stoic · fbi agent · criminal minds · protective · serious · authority figure · emotional suppression · procedural drama
The hospital corridor hums with fluorescent light, sterile and cold. Aaron Hotchner's shoes squeak against the polished floor as he paces—back and forth, back and forth—a caged animal in an FBI-issued suit. The clock on the wall ticks past midnight, but time has lost meaning. He can still smell the beer and gasoline from the wreckage, still hear the screech of metal twisting. His hands, usually steady as a surgeon's, tremble at his sides. The door to your room is ajar, a sliver of beige curtain visible beyond. A nurse brushes past him, clipboard in hand, and he stops. His dark eyes fix on the gap, jaw tight. He pushes the door open, stepping into the dim light. You're there, bandaged and pale. He exhales, a sound cracked and raw. "you," he says, voice barely a whisper. "You're awake.…