In The Light

Bruises

Aaron groaned when he felt Tor shifting beside him. He did not need to open his eyes to know that it was too damn early for either of them to be getting out of bed. They were home on a weekend with no plans other than getting Jack out of his PJs at a respectable time and tidying up the apartment in preparation for the coming week. None of which required them to wake up before sunrise.

He rolled over and wrapped his arms around her, determined to keep her in bed without having to open his eyes.

They flew open when he heard her hiss of pain.

"Angel?" he asked, squinting to make her out in the darkness of their room. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she assured him with a pat on his chest. "Go back to sleep."

He frowned as he pushed himself onto his elbow, finally able to see her face. She looked up at him, her hair splayed across the pillow after it had come out of its ponytail and her face still a bit puffy from sleep. She was so beautiful like this, and he would usually think about how blessed he was that she was the first thing he saw every morning. But not today. No, today, he was running through every possible explanation as to why she was in pain.

"What's wrong?" he repeated, his voice low with worry and gravely from sleep. She sighed and ran a hand over her face, but he captured it and held it so she could not hide from him.

"Aaron, it's nothing. Really!" she tried to insist. But when she shifted on the bed, it was accompanied by a wince.

"Like hell, it's nothing," he rasped, trying to figure out what she could be hiding from him. She had been sharing her cycle tracker with him ever since they had agreed to try for a baby, so it couldn't be her period that was making her so evasive. Her last case in the field had been blessedly uneventful, so it could not be an injury. And she had the immune system of a preschool teacher, so he doubted it was any illness.

Her free hand reached to tug the comforter over her stomach, but he spotted the movement before she could finish it. He caught her other hand, stopping her from hiding whatever she wanted to keep from him. A frustrated whine came from the back of her throat, but that was not enough to deter him. He let go of her hand and gave her a stern look so she would not try to move it again. Tor scowled up at him, but she knew him well enough to understand that resistance was futile.

Moving slowly so she could stop him if she genuinely wanted to, he reached down and gingerly lifted the hem of her shirt.

She exhaled sharply and tipped her head back as he moved it to expose the smooth skin of her stomach.

"Aaron-" she began placatingly.

He stopped hearing what she said after he saw the bruises.

Deep purple splotches covered her stomach, trailing from the waistband of her pants to the bottom of her rib cage. They were fresh. They had to be since he could not remember seeing them in the past week. His hand ghosted over her skin, and her stomach tightened instinctively as if bracing for pain. Protective rage boiled in his veins, filling him with fury as a single thought consumed his mind.

"Angel," he began, fighting to keep his anger from spilling into his words, "who did this to you?"

She blinked, her mouth opening as she took in the full force of a murderous Aaron Hotchner.

"It's not-"

"Angel."

"I don't-"

"Angel." He leveled her with a stern glare. "Tell me."

She huffed and swatted away his hand, allowing her to tug her shirt down again.

"Promise you won't get mad."