Blinded by Hate | a.hotchner

Chapter 16

Trigger Warning: Emetophobia and canon type case details

You woke up to your phone ringing loudly on the couch next to you. Without reading the name, you answered the phone.

"Hello?" You said groggily into the receiver of the phone.

"Y/n, where are you? Both you and Emily are over twenty minutes late for work." Aaron told you, his anger laced with worry.

"Shit sorry, we fell asleep on the couch last night. We'll be there in ten." You told him, kicking Emily to wake her up.

Aaron hung up without another word. You quickly ran to your room, grabbing two outfits, throwing one to Emily. She quickly went into the bathroom, throwing on the clothes. You did the same in your room, shoving your feet into a pair of shoes.

Once you both were ready, you jumped into your separate cars and sped off to the office. You parked in the garage next to each other, running to the elevator. When the car made it up to the sixth floor, you both rushed into the bullpen. The rest of the team was sitting around the table in the briefing room, both of you quickly joining them.

"Sorry." You and Emily muttered in unison.

"We have an unsub here in DC. He's abducting, torturing, and killing men. He disposed of the bodies on the steps of different buildings, but they all have one thing in common; they are government funded and run buildings." JJ told the team, bringing up pictures of five men, and their crime scene photos.

"Well, he definitely has a type." Emily said, pointing out the obvious, "Men in approximately their forties, with dark hair."

"Do we have a COD or an ME report?" Reid asked JJ, flipping through the file.

"The final reports on all five men are on their way, but cause of death was exsanguination. Most likely from slicing the carotid. They all had trace amounts of ketamine in their system, as well." Hotch told him, speaking over JJ.

"Yeah, and we just got word from the Metro Police that another man has been reported missing. We're on a clock now, with each of the last men our unsub held the men for 48 hours before killing and disposing of them." JJ said, cuing up another picture of a man.

"Carter Johnson, was reported missing a few hours ago by his wife." The name and picture sent a shock wave through your body. Emily's head immediately snapped to look at you, fear in her eyes.

Not listening to the team or Emily, you pulled yourself out of your chair, sprinting to the bathroom. You didn't have time to check if anyone was in the room before walking into the first stall and vomiting. Your dinner and wine from last night burning your throat as you wretched over the bowl. Someone had followed you into the room, pulling your hair back and rubbing circles on your back. They were whispering 'it'll be okay' over and over, watching you dry heave. Tears were streaming down your face, sobs mixed in with the clench of your stomach.

After a while, the dry heaving stopped, your body slumping into a ball. You felt strong hands pull you against a body, and the strong scent of pine and mint filling your nose. Aaron held you in his lap, rocking you slightly as you sobbed. He had followed you into the woman's bathroom and watched you puke. If you hadn't just emptied all the contents of your stomach, you might have tried to care. Instead, you let Aaron run his fingers through your knotted hair and let him wipe the remnants of vomit off your chin. You cried into his chest, listening to his deep voice humming a song in your ear.

The low rumble of his humming put you at ease, your tears slowing and your breathing evening out. He picked you up bridal style, your arms looping around his neck. You felt him carry you out of the bathroom, feeling the team's eyes on you as he carried you to his office. As he passed Emily, he told her to follow him. He set you down on his couch, letting Emily walk over to you. Wanting to give you a moment with her, Aaron handed you a glass of water and left the room.