My name is Abigail Marie Morgan, but call me Abbi. I work at the FBI, Behavioral Analysis Unit, or the BAU for short. I work alongside some of the smartest and greatest people in the FBI. I got into a lot of trouble as a kid and even into adulthood...
After boarding the jet, I change into another set of clothes. I then take a seat in front of Spencer, who's reading a book. "Hey,"
"Hey," I notice he's still looking at the book and not paying attention. I gently take the book and place it in his lap.
"Hey, I need you to listen to me, okay?" As he stares me in the eyes, I know he's listening. "What Cyrus did to me is not your fault. It was solely my decision and I would do it again without the blink of an eye so that you wouldn't get hurt. Do you understand?"
He nods, his lips pressed together as he swallows hard, signalling he's trying not to cry. I pat his hand that I hadn't realized I was holding. "You know I love you right?" I ask with a small smirk which he returns causing me to break out into a full smile. I pat the side of his face before going to sit next to Derek. I sit down with a huff and lean my head against his shoulder. "So, were you worried about your dear old sis?"
"You mean my dear young sis?" He asks with a smirk as he looks down at me, his eyes lingering on the light bruise on my face.
"Stop eyein' my bruise," I say as I stick my tongue out at him. He does the same before focusing back on his and Rossi's chess game. "I'm fine you know,"
"You once fell down a flight of stairs when we were kids, and then got up and kept walking. I know you're fine but that doesn't mean I don't worry,"
"Aww, you goin' soft on me big bro?" I ask with a teasing tone as I sit up straight.
"You wish," He chuckles, socking me lightly in the thigh. It doesn't hurt that much cause Cyrus never got any hits there. I laugh lightly as I rest my head against his shoulder, my eyes fluttering closed for some much-needed sleep.
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Mature Scenes Ahead
I walk into Hotch's apartment with a smile on my face. I immediately beeline for the shower. I grab some clothes first, my short shorts and a tank top, along with a wireless bralette and matching panties. I lock the bathroom door before stripping from my work clothes and stepping into the warm shower. I stand right under the shower so the water can wash away everything. As I wash my body it's as though I'm washing the past three days right off.
I lather my hair with shampoo, massaging my scalp before rinsing it out and doing the same with my conditioner. I stand in the shower for another ten minutes before stepping out and wrapping a towel around me. I take another towel and dry my hair so it's not dripping. I then apply some leave-in conditioner to my hair so it doesn't dry out, running my hand through to get all the knots out. Once I'm done I drop my towel, examining my body in the mirror. The bruises are mainly superficial and should be gone in a couple days. The pain is mainly gone just tenderness, although the pain meds did help a bit. I slip on my underwear and shorts before pulling on my bralette and silk tank top over that.
I hang my towels up to dry before sliding my feet into my slippers and then exiting the bathroom. I walk into the living room to see Hotch at the dining table with a cup of coffee and papers all in front of him. He's in his casual wear, a t-shirt and pyjama pants. I can't help but shake my head at him. I walk into the kitchen and grab a mug and pour myself some coffee, adding my creamer and sugar before walking over to the table. "Still doing work,"
