heart like yours (jennifer jareau)

3. twenty five

AN: hey guys! happy monday!

i hope you're all having a good week so far or that it gets better if it's not going too well <3

i also wanted to keep you guys updated and let you know that i'm not doing my hotch and spencer fics anymore bc i've changed the plots for their love interests and it doesn't work out properly anymore. they're also more books i have to write which means less lilah and liv chapters and i'd rather give this and tmtc my all instead of spreading myself thin with their books too.

that being said, i'm absolutely still writing jace and penelope's book bc there are not enough penelope fics in the world and we deserve more :)

TWs:
suicidal ideations
mentions of torture
mentions of death
suspected insanity
daddy issues
mentions of dead bodies

i hope you guys enjoy! <3

•

"also, everything returns, but what returns is not what went away." - louise gluck

•

Hotch was there when she woke up.

The fact she woke up was shocking enough without Hotch's eyes burning holes into the side of her face. Delilah stared back at him, blinking slowly as she sat up, using her elbows because her hands were still heavily bandaged.

She couldn't ignore the ache that shot through her chest at the movement, but she masked the hurt before it could reach the surface of her skin, keeping her face blank. 

She couldn't read Hotch. She couldn't get past the look of impassiveness in his eyes as he stared at her. There were no emotions to read. That was a first. Eyes were the window to the soul, but Hotch had built up brick walls in the three weeks since they'd seen each other and she couldn't get through to him.

He didn't want her to see his emotions. He knew she wouldn't be able to process how he felt about her, now. She knew that meant his feelings towards her had changed.

"Where's Ziggy?" Delilah asked, pushing down the sick feeling in her stomach.

"He's with Liv," Hotch said. "They're getting him changed so you can be discharged early."

"And she left you in here with me alone?" Delilah asked quietly, tilting her head to the side in confusion.

Hotch's eyes lingered on the tilt of her head before they moved to Delilah's hands, lingering over the bruised knuckles he couldn't see through the thick bandages. Delilah didn't hide them, instead staring at his own hands crossed over his lap.

He had strong hands. Delilah had trained with Hotch in the gym and in self defence classes, so she knew just how hard he could punch, even when holding back. She had always been the weaker of the two, but not physically. It was mentally.

Delilah could not fight against Hotch because, whether she wanted to admit it or not, he was another man she searched for her father in. If she hurt Hotch, she would be hurting the wrong father.

Just weeks ago, Hotch could've caved a man's skull in with his bare hands and Delilah would've despised him for it. He would've become the same kind of father as Elliot. But now, Hotch could cave a man's skull in with his bare hands and Delilah would bandage his knuckles for him. She had become the same kind of child as her father intended, and it would curse Hotch forever to only see her father's daughter when he looked at her.