Blinded by Hate | a.hotchner

Chapter 20

Trigger Warning: Slight Violence and Gore

The twenty four hours after Briza's call were the most uneventful moments of your life. The team worked well into the night, combing through everything they could find on her. Medical records, credit card bills, ATM usage, and cell phone locations didn't tell you much. Her parents and coworkers were brought in, some yielded very important information.

While speaking to her mother, it was revealed that Briza's father was abusive. She had neglected to go to the hospital multiple times, in fear of her father's threats. There were only a few emergency visits in her record, one for a spiral fracture and another for a broken nose. You thanked her mother for her help, but you couldn't allow her to leave. She could possibly tip Briza off, and she'd go dormant.

"Well, now we know why she killed Carter Johnson. She let her rage consume her, and took most of it out on him. The rest most likely on Hotch." Spencer said, after you relayed the information to the team. You nodded, listening to his words.

At least some of this isn't my fault.

Well, I mean you getting abused by Carter got him killed. You got him killed. You got Aaron tortured. What is wrong with you?

That question kept running through your head, Aaron's low voice being the one to say the words. He didn't think there was anything wrong with you, but you did. Aaron was just the first one to say the words.

The hours bled together as you waited for the twenty four hour deadline to approach. You sat at your desk, looking through the files mindlessly, the pictures branded into your brain. Aaron's voice pulled you out of your thoughts, requesting you in his office.

"Y/n, can I see you in my office for a moment?" His voice carried through the mostly empty bullpen. Emily was writing something at her desk, Spencer was reading, Morgan was helping Garcia with some cyber-sleuthing.

You stood, grabbing your coffee, and walked up to his office. Glancing at the clock it read, 1:27 am. It had been about nine hours since Briza called.

He probably just wants to ask how I'm doing. Or maybe he has the answer to that nagging question.

You walked into his office, neglecting to knock. The blinds were closed, the room was dark with the exception of the lamp on his desk. The window that looked out to the street was also covered with blinds. Obviously trying to keep Briza's nose out of his business.

"You wanted to see me, Aaron?" You asked, shutting the door behind you.

"I wanted to ask you a few things about the phone call from yesterday." He said, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk.

"Okay, what do you want to know?" A slight wave of concern washing over you.

"She said something about you and Prentiss in Illinois?" He said, raising his eyebrows.

The wave of concern switched to panic, "I- Uh... somethings may have happened after I left your room in Illinois..." You trailed off, trying to figure out how to explain it to him.

"And what happened?" Aaron asked you, waiting expectantly.

"I left, and went down to the bar. She was down there, drinking. We both got pretty drunk, and all I remember is waking up next to her the following morning." You told him, keeping your eyes trained on the floor. "I'm sorry." You mumbled in a small voice.

He let out a sigh as he stood from his chair and walked around his desk. Sitting against the edge, he gently grabbed your face, tilting it upwards to look at him, "You have nothing to be sorry for, y/n. We weren't together at the time."