A Different Kind of Love

Battered-Rossi

Reader goes home after a night out to her abusive boyfriend. When all hell breaks loose, she goes to Rossi for help. TW: abuse by partner.

"Drive safe!" Emily yelled as you headed towards your car after a small 'out' night with the team. You waved your hand in the air and jumped into your car, pushing yours keys into the ignition to start it. You drove straight to your apartment where your boyfriend, Michael, was.

You entered the apartment with a small smile, happy to be home. As you stepped into the door, you saw Michael sitting at the kitchen counter, his arms crossed.

You frowned, shutting the door and tossing your keys into a bowl on the table by the door. "Michael?" His head shot up and you saw he looked tense, frustrated.

As you got closer you smelled the alcohol wafting off of him. "Michael? Have you been drinking?" He didn't like to drink for one main reason: when he got drunk, he got angry.

"So what if I have? You've been out all night with your team." He growled in a menacing tone, his cold blue eyes trailing over you.

Your eyebrows furrowed, "Yeah? We just got back from a long case. I texted you."

He grunted, dropping his phone on the table with a dull thud. "Yeah. A fucking text! No call, nothin'! What were you really doing??"

You pursed your lips, setting your bag by your feet. You crossed your arms, "What?"

He shot up, his hands flailing around, "What were you really doing, y/n?! Huh?! You've been at a bar all night!"

"Yeah? What does that have to do with anything? I was with my team, Mikey!" You snapped back, unsure of what he was trying to accuse you of.

"Oh, yeah! Suuuuure! You were with that Derek, right? Hotch or Aaron or whatever?! That fucking old man, Rossi?! I'm sure you were with them!" He shouted, his voice only raising in volume.

Your face heated up in anger. He was accusing you of sleeping with your co-workers! "Michael! They're my friends! I work with them!!"

"Yeah, just work! Riiiight! So, you haven't been fucking them?!  You spend more time with them than you do me, y/n!" He slammed his hand down on the table.

"I wouldn't do that! You're my boyfriend, Mikey! Why would I do that?!" You shouted back with just as much anger.

He stepped towards you, anger clear on his face. The smell of whiskey hit you and you cursed. "You've been drinking! You know what happens when you drink! You need to leave, Mikey, I'm not dealing with you when you're like this!"

"Like this?!" He blew out a breath, "Are you fucking kidding me?!? Like this?!?! You're the fucking whore who sleeps with her co-workers!"

That was it. "I didn't sleep with any of them!! Don't call me a whore when you're the drunk!"

He snapped. His face twisted in rage and your head snapped to the side. You didn't realize what he had down until you felt tingles through your cheek, already knowing a bruise would form from the force of it.

You brought your hand to your face, tears welling in your eyes. He raised his hand to slap you again and you stepped back, "Michael!" He brought his hand across your face again, blind with rage.

"I'M NOT A DRUNK!!" He yelled and you grabbed your bag off of the floor, picking your keys up hastily and leaving the apartment quickly.

You heard him shout after you but you hurried down your apartment steps and got into your car, locking the doors. As you drove away, anywhere but where he was, tears spilled down your cheeks, splashing onto your jeans.