Stay With Me A•H

7 - Painted Face

.........
Hotch's Pov
.........

Howls of pain bounced off the four walls, the world seeming to fall under you as you held y/n in your arms. Years of built-up emotions and trauma that went unnoticed finally bleeding out of her. 

"What's wrong with me? Why...Why do I?" Her voice rose in anger as the last words hung in the air, different emotions evident through her tone.

Clutching her closer you wrapped your left arm around the small of her back giving her extra support. Her head instinctively pulling away before leaning into your touch, burying her head into the crook of your neck.

You were never one to rely on physical touch to soothe someone or have an emotional conversation with your colleagues. But here you sat pressed up against y/n letting her cry in your arms.

The scent of tears coated the room, grief held so low in the air, your lungs began to squeeze inside of you. Lights sniffles and shaky breathing filling the empty night, her hand holding onto the hem of your dress shirt, afraid if she let go you would fall to dust. 

Your heart twisted at the starvation of her touch. She gripped on with such need and hesitation it made you wonder how long it's been since someone held her, or if she had ever been held.

You knew a girl like her craved touch at all hours of the day, probably from the lack of comfort as a child. Her love language was touch, but she hated the feeling of people surrounding her. She hated words of affirmation most likely due to the light amount of praise she got growing up.

"I got you, I got you, I'm right here." You mumbled into her hair. Your mouth hovering over her hairline. The urge for your lips to meet the skin so addictive you had to turn your head the other way.

As much as your heart twisted at her choked-up sobs, and apologizes you knew she needed this. You knew she needed this from the moment she stepped into your office to turn in her file. The circles under her eyes only darkened as each second passed.

The glaze in her eyes staying focused for a minute at a time before taking a long blink. Her regular tone switched to something lighter and softer. You knew the exhaustion and stress were eating away at her.

That's why you came to her apartment. Or at least what you told yourself, and anyone else that would try to ask. You were looking out for a colleague, looking out for a friend.

But you knew deep down you would only do this for her...

"I'm so tired, Hotch." She whispered the choked-up sobs slowing down but the emotion in her voice never wavering.

"I know beautiful. I know." Pulling her body closer to you. Your hearts beating as one, feeling her pain ripple into your chest.

You knew the only thing that would help soothe the "exhaustion" she was feeling was sleep. "Come on let's get you to bed." You mumbled into her ear feeling her nod into your shoulder.

Knowing she was too overwhelmed to do anything other than mumble a few combined words you hooked your left arm under the small of her back, your other hand under the bent of her knees. Her grip around your neck grew tighter as you stood up walking to her bedroom.

It was an abnormal feeling carrying a woman in your arms that wasn't your wife. Or now ex-wife. Of course, you had held victims in your arms wiping their tears of shock and fright away, but this was different.

There was a sense of intimacy that hung low in the air. An understanding on a different level. Who would have known a woman you wanted nothing to do with, a woman you were dreading to be on the team, was now the closest thing you had to a friend.