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“You should have made the deal.”

The words continued to haunt him as he lay in bed that night. He would close his eyes and see his face towering over him, as if he was sitting on top of him again. He’d open them, the words would echo in his head. Something was wrong with him, thinking about Foyet the entire time. It wasn’t even close to the anniversary of her death, and that was the worst part. It was for no apparent reason right then—just late night thoughts about some of his old cases.

Aaron lay sprawled on the bed and jerked slightly when hearing the door knock. Sitting up, he looked at the clock and grimaced. ‘1:21 AM,’ he thought. ‘Who the hell decided to come at my door this late?’ He crawled out of bed and slowly made his way to the door in an effort to look awake. The door knocked again, and he opened in the middle of it.

Spencer stood there, hand up as if to knock once more. He sheepishly put his hand down and looked his boss from head to toe. “You’re not asleep yet?” he asked. “With the way you’re standing there in your boxers, I would’ve thought…”

Aaron gave him an exhausted look. “I know.”

“Sorry,” he murmured. He pointed in the direction of his room and looked down a little. “I guess I’ll go and… y’know. Try and—“

His boss rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Come in. You obviously can’t sleep either. So don’t try to hide it.”

Spencer glanced around, seeing the paperwork scattered on the desk and seeing the bed rumbled and used. Aaron was wandering the room and shaking his head silently with his fingers pinching his nose. He slowly walked towards the unit chief, hand out slightly as if to grab his arm. “You tried to sleep. But this case isn’t the only thing keeping you up.” He managed to reach him, placing the warm hand on his arm and giving a gentle squeeze. Aaron visibly tensed. “It’s him.”

He got no answer, but he didn’t need one. It was obvious as anything. There were a couple of nights where Aaron would have nightmares and restless times from after Haley’s death. It disturbed him greatly, those words. No one really knew it but Spencer… and most likely Dave. Then again, Rossi pretty much knew everything with but a simple look. Even now, even five years later—he was still having nights where he would wake up in a sweat. Or just not sleep at all.

“You don’t have to hide it. Nothing to be ashamed of.” Spencer kept his hand there.

He pulled away a little, sitting down and still saying nothing. Aaron didn’t want to admit his humanity. His ego wouldn’t let him. “I’m okay,” he muttered.

His friend made an odd noise. “Yeah. Because you’re asleep and doing really well for yourself right now. Spending time with Jack a little less and less, becoming snappish, running over our UnSubs like you’re a truck—yeah, I’d say you’re doing pretty well right about now.” Spencer turned to the mirror, seeing Aaron tense even more now and still going. “You’re distancing yourself further than Dave is, than Gideon did. You talk about how profiling is a group effort, but more and more, you seem to create one by yourself and use that more than ours. It doesn’t bother you that you’re losing yourself… in this job?”

“Reid. I’m fine.”

“Well, could you do yourself a favor and not lie to yourself?! Lie to me all you want, but lying to yourself—that’s just stupid!”

From behind, Aaron stood up and glowered at him silently. Spencer had hit a nerve. “You know, I’m not scared of you anymore, Hotch. I’ve seen how bad you can get, and I’m ready for it. For anything you throw at me. I can take it.” His eyes were steady, compassionate. Understanding. “And you know why I can.”

That didn’t stop the anger seeping from his very being. “Are you saying you don’t trust me?”

“I’m saying you’re pissed off. And you need an outlet. You just haven’t found one.”

Aaron clenched his teeth, looking down and shaking his head. “No, I’m…”

“What, you’re not afraid to hit UnSubs and grab them like Morgan does, but you’re afraid to hit your boyfriend? Especially when he asks you if you need to since you’re all bottled up and about to explode?” Spencer shook his head, snorting a little with a laugh. “You know, I can see why no one wanted to be with you for the last few years. You’re so closed, so scared of seeing what may happen if you actually open up to someone. Not that I’m surprised.”

There was something in those blunt words that hit him hard, and he growled very softly at this. He lashed out, grabbing his arm and slamming him up against the wall, closing in the proximity between them and breathing very softly against his neck. “I hate it. When you profile me,” he muttered, his hand tightening on his wrist. “It pisses me off when you get it all right.”

Spencer couldn’t help but grin, shivering when Aaron leaned in and pressed his lips against his own. The forcefulness of his tongue really proved how much of an alpha male he was right then, especially when provoked. His past, his temper, and his emotions—if anyone preyed upon that, it was like entering his territory. Something he protected quite fiercely, along with the rest of his team. His tongue forced its way into his mouth, pinning him against the wall and holding him there. “I’m better than you,” he taunted softly, between kisses. “Admit it.”

“Never."

Description

“You should have made the deal.”

The words continued to haunt him as he lay in bed that night. He would close his eyes and see his face towering over him, as if he was sitting on top of him again. He’d open them, the words would echo in his head. Something was wrong with him, thinking about Foyet the entire time. It wasn’t even close to the anniversary of her death, and that was the worst part. It was for no apparent reason right then—just late night thoughts about some of his old cases.

Aaron lay sprawled on the bed and jerked slightly when hearing the door knock. Sitting up, he looked at the clock and grimaced. ‘1:21 AM,’ he thought. ‘Who the hell decided to come at my door this late?’ He crawled out of bed and slowly made his way to the door in an effort to look awake. The door knocked again, and he opened in the middle of it.

Spencer stood there, hand up as if to knock once more. He sheepishly put his hand down and looked his boss from head to toe. “You’re not asleep yet?” he asked. “With the way you’re standing there in your boxers, I would’ve thought…”

Aaron gave him an exhausted look. “I know.”

“Sorry,” he murmured. He pointed in the direction of his room and looked down a little. “I guess I’ll go and… y’know. Try and—“

His boss rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Come in. You obviously can’t sleep either. So don’t try to hide it.”

Spencer glanced around, seeing the paperwork scattered on the desk and seeing the bed rumbled and used. Aaron was wandering the room and shaking his head silently with his fingers pinching his nose. He slowly walked towards the unit chief, hand out slightly as if to grab his arm. “You tried to sleep. But this case isn’t the only thing keeping you up.” He managed to reach him, placing the warm hand on his arm and giving a gentle squeeze. Aaron visibly tensed. “It’s him.”

He got no answer, but he didn’t need one. It was obvious as anything. There were a couple of nights where Aaron would have nightmares and restless times from after Haley’s death. It disturbed him greatly, those words. No one really knew it but Spencer… and most likely Dave. Then again, Rossi pretty much knew everything with but a simple look. Even now, even five years later—he was still having nights where he would wake up in a sweat. Or just not sleep at all.

“You don’t have to hide it. Nothing to be ashamed of.” Spencer kept his hand there.

He pulled away a little, sitting down and still saying nothing. Aaron didn’t want to admit his humanity. His ego wouldn’t let him. “I’m okay,” he muttered.

His friend made an odd noise. “Yeah. Because you’re asleep and doing really well for yourself right now. Spending time with Jack a little less and less, becoming snappish, running over our UnSubs like you’re a truck—yeah, I’d say you’re doing pretty well right about now.” Spencer turned to the mirror, seeing Aaron tense even more now and still going. “You’re distancing yourself further than Dave is, than Gideon did. You talk about how profiling is a group effort, but more and more, you seem to create one by yourself and use that more than ours. It doesn’t bother you that you’re losing yourself… in this job?”

“Reid. I’m fine.”

“Well, could you do yourself a favor and not lie to yourself?! Lie to me all you want, but lying to yourself—that’s just stupid!”

From behind, Aaron stood up and glowered at him silently. Spencer had hit a nerve. “You know, I’m not scared of you anymore, Hotch. I’ve seen how bad you can get, and I’m ready for it. For anything you throw at me. I can take it.” His eyes were steady, compassionate. Understanding. “And you know why I can.”

That didn’t stop the anger seeping from his very being. “Are you saying you don’t trust me?”

“I’m saying you’re pissed off. And you need an outlet. You just haven’t found one.”

Aaron clenched his teeth, looking down and shaking his head. “No, I’m…”

“What, you’re not afraid to hit UnSubs and grab them like Morgan does, but you’re afraid to hit your boyfriend? Especially when he asks you if you need to since you’re all bottled up and about to explode?” Spencer shook his head, snorting a little with a laugh. “You know, I can see why no one wanted to be with you for the last few years. You’re so closed, so scared of seeing what may happen if you actually open up to someone. Not that I’m surprised.”

There was something in those blunt words that hit him hard, and he growled very softly at this. He lashed out, grabbing his arm and slamming him up against the wall, closing in the proximity between them and breathing very softly against his neck. “I hate it. When you profile me,” he muttered, his hand tightening on his wrist. “It pisses me off when you get it all right.”

Spencer couldn’t help but grin, shivering when Aaron leaned in and pressed his lips against his own. The forcefulness of his tongue really proved how much of an alpha male he was right then, especially when provoked. His past, his temper, and his emotions—if anyone preyed upon that, it was like entering his territory. Something he protected quite fiercely, along with the rest of his team. His tongue forced its way into his mouth, pinning him against the wall and holding him there. “I’m better than you,” he taunted softly, between kisses. “Admit it.”

“Never."