Are You Profiling Me?

-31-

Hotch.

He's standing in the doorway, his eyes wide with shock as he freezes in place, his hand hovering in the air, as if caught mid-motion. He doesn't move, but the look in his eyes says it all—he's not a threat, not the intruder you were expecting.

But you can't let your guard down just yet.

"Danielle!" he shouts, his voice laced with both relief and alarm.

But the instinct to protect Jack is stronger than your rational mind. Your gun is still aimed directly at him.

"Stay back!" You find your voice, but it cracks, betraying the fear you've been holding at bay for so long.

Hotch doesn't flinch. His gaze shifts quickly to the side, toward the small cabinet where Jack is hiding. His jaw clenches, his eyes darkening with concern.

"I'm not the threat," Hotch says softly, his voice steady but edged with urgency. "It's me, Danielle. It's Aaron. Please, lower the gun."

But your heart is still racing. You can't let yourself relax, not when Jack is so close, not when you don't know where the danger might be.

You keep the gun aimed at him, but your hand is shaking, your entire body trembling from the tension. "I heard something—there was someone outside. I thought—"

Hotch takes a single step forward, his hands raised slightly, palms open in a gesture of peace. His eyes are soft but full of warning. "It's okay," he says gently, but his voice is firm. "I'm here now. I'm not going to let anything happen to either of you."

His words hit you like a wave, but they don't ease the tight knot of fear in your chest. You want to trust him, but there's still so much uncertainty, so much you don't know. He's not just Hotch, your partner, your love—it's not just about you and him anymore. There's Jack to consider, too.

And in that moment, you let your guard down just enough to lower the gun, your hands still shaking as you bring it to your side.

Hotch doesn't move too quickly. He keeps his distance, understanding that you need a moment to fully process. His gaze shifts back to the cabinet, where Jack is still hidden inside, and you follow his eyes.

You slowly step toward the cabinet, bending down to whisper softly to Jack. "It's okay, sweetheart. It's just Hotch. You can come out now."

Jack's small face peeks out from behind the cabinet door, his eyes red and puffy from the tension, but he seems to relax when he sees Hotch standing there.

"Is it really him?" Jack whispers, his small voice full of doubt, his little body still trembling with fear.

"It's him," you say, your voice much gentler now, though your heart is still thudding against your ribs. "He's here to help. We're safe."

Hotch steps closer, crouching down to Jack's level. He holds out his hand, but his expression is soft, his voice full of warmth. "Jack, it's okay. You're safe now. I'm here."

Jack hesitates for a moment, then steps out from the cabinet and walks into Hotch's arms, still clinging to you as he does so. You let out a quiet sigh of relief, knowing that the worst of the moment is over.

Hotch wraps both of his arms around Jack, holding him tightly, before his gaze returns to you. His eyes flick over to the gun still dangling at your side, the tension between you still palpable. He can see that you're shaken, that the fear is still clinging to you.

His voice softens. "We found the sniper's rifle. It's like the ones we saw in Syria. Same make, same scope. But there's no shooter. No one's here."

Your breath hitches again, but this time, there's more confusion than fear. "What do you mean no shooter?" you ask, still trying to grasp the reality of what he's telling you.