Say It (Hotch x Reader)// ✔

Out of the darkness

Summary:

After Emily Prentiss dies, Hotch is tasked with the job of assessing his team, making sure they're doing well, and that includes you too.
Does the assessment change things?

Notes:

TW ? idk if i should but better safe: mention of Emily Prentiss's fake death (before they knew it was fake)

"I thought only the team had to be assessed" you start, making yourself as comfortable as you can in the stiff leather chair of Hotch's office. You had never been here before to sit for longer than 10 minutes. Hotch is sitting across from you, his forms in hand, legs crossed and head low looking at the notes. You feel a bit like you are taking a session with your therapist.  

"Yes, and as far as I recall you are a part of that team", he says quite matter-of-factly, without looking back up.  

"I'm not affected" you say just as fast, and you bite your lip. It came out meaner than you had expected it too. "As much as them, I mean". Hotch looks at you for what you think is a split second but his face remains stoic.  

And you'd noticed it too, the way each of them was broken in different ways, after Emily Prentiss had died before even getting to the emergency room in time for them to try and resuscitate her.  

-  

"Penelope?" you call again, this time dropping a hand over her shoulder. She jumps up, startled and finally tears her eyes off Emily Prentiss' photo in the wall of people to remember. She'd been doing that for what feels like forever now. It is a bit later in the day, almost lunch time. Everyone has left the offices to eat out. Penelope, with big glasses and even bigger blonde hair, always donning loud colorful dresses that at times mismatched who always smiled and joked around even in the hardest of times, was now taciturn – a sight that for you was too strange to digest.   

So, you take up baking in response.   

"Hey?" she approaches your desk the next day, the only one in the office at this hour, apart from Hotch already barricaded in his since 7.30am.  

"Morning" you reply and she's hesitant, nearing your table. She's got a large bouquet of daisies in hand, all in a vase.  

"Um, sorry to bother – did you happen to see from whose they were. They were just at my desk. No note"  

And it's stupid how you didn't think of at least leaving a note. You are supposed to notice suspicious things as a job, for god's sake.  

"Yeah, from me"  

Her eyes go wide, still surprised.  

"What?"  

You stand up, making your way to the printer.   

"I have a big garden full of flowers and I don't know what to do with them. If I don't give them away, they'd wither" you lie right to her face. You still have the receipt from the flower shop located along your Wednesday's jogging route in your car. That still continues on for as long as you continue jogging.