Chapter Text
One of the lessons I learned early in life is that not everyone is going to like you. You can be the nicest, sweetest, prettiest peach on the tree…and you’re still gonna run into a mother fucker who hates peaches. And that’s okay.
I wasn’t for everyone; the people that loved me loved me fiercely and that was more than enough. It didn’t matter that some people didn’t like me.
…but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why Agent Hotchner hated me.
“He doesn’t hate you,” Garcia had told me, but even she didn’t look super convinced.
Hotch wasn’t an easy man. He was intimidating, domineering, and intense; but sometimes when he was with his team, I saw him smile or even laugh at something they had said. I had seen how his eyes lit up whenever he talked about his son. He wasn’t cold, detached, and mean to everyone.
Just to me.
--
Occasionally, I try to mentally run through my time at the BAU to see if I can pinpoint the thing I did that made the unit chief dislike me. It really didn't matter if he liked me, but he seemed offended by my existence. It didn't make for an easy working relationship, and if I could somehow apologize for what I had done, then maybe things at work would get easier.
I wasn't a member of the BAU team that went out in the field; I wasn't a profiler, but I was part of the entire unit. Most people only thought of Hotch's team that jumped on a plane with him when you said BAU, but dozens of us stayed back and worked behind the scenes to make sure things ran smoothly. Even though I wasn't a profiler, I was still so happy to be a part of this unit; all I had ever wanted was to make a difference.
It just seems that the difference I made was a bad one.
“Hey,” a voice called, drawing me out of my thoughts. Agent Jaruau, JJ as she told everyone to call her, was standing beside my desks with a manila FBI file in her hands. “Did you file this?”
My brow furrowed as I took the file she handed me, running my eyes over the document. Everything looked right…until I got to the bottom line.
“Shit,” I mumbled, my eyes snapping back up to look at hers. “I’m sorry.”
JJ waved her hand, dismissing my apology. “It’s no big deal, I made that same mistake fairly often when I worked as a media liaison. That form is confusing.” She gave me a small, genuine smile. “It’s already been logged into the system…” the pretty blonde woman let her words trail off, but I knew what she didn’t want to say.
“Hotch needs to sign off on the change,” I finished for her.
“I can take it to him for you,” she offered. “I don’t mind.”
I shook my head. “That will just make it worse.” I stood, squaring my shoulders. “It’s okay. It was my mistake; I’ll take responsibility for it.”
She just patted my back when I walked by, making the dreaded walk across the bullpen, up the stairs to Hotch’s office. This sort of dumb clerical error wouldn’t be a big deal for anyone else, but everyone knew how Hotch felt about me.
Huffing out a breath, I rapped my knuckles on his office door.
“Come in,” his gruff voice called out.
I kept my eyes downcast when I entered the room, shutting the door behind me. I sort of looked at dealing with Hotch in the same way you’d deal with a predator. No sudden moves, no direct eye contact, nothing that could be seen as challenging.
“Sorry to bother you, sir.” I began, my fingers gripping the file in my hand tightly. “I just need your approval on a system record change.” I held out the file folder.
It was promptly ripped out of my hands. “It’s customary to look at someone when you speak to them, Agent.”
Heat burned in my cheeks, but I lifted my gaze, grateful he wasn’t looking at me but at the file in front of him.
“Why does this need a record change?” he asked, still not looking at me.
Here goes nothing. “I made an error on line 35.”
I saw the grip he had on his pen tighten ever so slightly. “I see,” he said softly. “Tell me, Agent, did you bother to read the form before you filled it out?”
"Yes, sir," I said quietly, feeling the muscles in my back tensing.
“Then how did you make such a stupid mistake?” Those dark brown eyes finally came to rest on my face. “I can’t have agents in this unit who are so careless. I don’t have the time to be cleaning up after anyone’s mistakes.” His voice had gotten sharper, he wasn’t quite yelling, but his words struck me hard just the same. “Is that clear?”
I nodded, focusing my eyes on his left ear. I was afraid if I saw the anger in his eyes that it would hurt me even worse.
“When I ask you a question, I expect an answer.”
My throat worked as I tried to swallow my emotions. “I’m sorry sir, it won’t happen again.”
He tossed the file on his desk. “See that it doesn’t.”
I snatched the folder off of his desk and all but ran from his office. I made the return walk down the stairs and across the bullpen to my desk. I dropped the file on my desk with a shaky exhale.
I really wanted to be the sort of person who could accept criticism without getting so emotional. I wanted to be the sort of person that could put up a brave face and let painful words just roll off of me.
But I wasn't.
I stood in front of my desk for a moment, weighing my options. I could sit down at my desk and try to pretend I wasn't gutted, or I could run to the bathroom and cry alone.
I chose the latter.
--
Whenever I got so upset, I always felt like I had let the other person win. Running out of the bullpen and locking myself in a bathroom stall while I angrily dashed away the tears the rolled down my cheeks made me feel like a failure.
I kept telling myself that it didn’t matter what Agent Hotchner thought of me. I was good at my job, I had to be, or he would have already fired me. His complaints seemed to just be with…me as a person.
I stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom and took inventory of my reflection. It looked like I had been crying, but that’s nothing a makeup wipe couldn’t mostly fix. Besides, what did it matter if Hotch made me cry? He made Anderson cry all the time and no one said anything to him.
It wasn’t until I was tossing my makeup wipe away that I let out a slightly bitter chuckle; I realized I still mentally refer to him as “Hotch,” it’s what he told everyone to call him.
Everyone but me.
--
I had long ago decided that coffee was the answer to almost every problem life had. I think the only person who made more trips to the coffee machine than me was Dr. Spencer Reid. He didn't talk to me a lot either, but I don't think that's because he didn't like me. I think he was just awkward and nervous. Maybe I should try to talk to him more.
Dr. Reid wasn’t at the coffee station when I made my way there after exiting the bathroom, but another member of the BAU was. If it had been anyone else, I might have tried to turn and act like I wasn’t going to the coffee pot in the first place, but I’m sure he had already noticed me.
David Rossi didn’t miss much.
I made my way over to the kitchenette counter, grabbing one of my mugs out of the cabinet before turning my head in his direction. "Good morning, Agent Rossi," I chirped in greeting.
The older man returned my greeting, his eyes running over my face in a way that would have been terrifying if I didn’t know the man. I still wasn’t sure how someone could look so friendly and so calculating all at the same time.
“You okay, kiddo?” he asked, dropping his focus to his own coffee cup on the counter.
My teeth gnawed on my bottom lip as I considered my answer. “There’s no point in trying to lie to you, is there?”
The man who developed the art of profiling chuckled at my question. "No, not much of a point," he informed me, his voice kind. He didn't seem the least bit off-put by my question. "It's also probably not fair of me to ask such a hard question."
“No, it’s fine,” I insisted.
The older man just shook his head. “We both know it’s not.”
I felt tears prick the inner corners of my eyes again. “I just…I don’t know why he hates me so much. And I wish it didn’t bother me but-.” My voice cracked, betraying how upset I truly was.
Rossi let out a defeated sigh and reached his hand out to cover my own. “I’ve known Aaron for a long time, y/n. He’s a good man, one of the best men I’ve ever met.” He patted my hand before he pulled away to pick up his own cup. “Doesn’t mean he’s not a dick sometimes.”
I just gave him a slightly watery chuckle. “It’s okay. I just need to toughen up.”
“You don’t need to change a thing, Bella.” Rossi gave me one last smile before walking back to his own office.
I had already turned my focus back to my own coffee cup when I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, a primal instinct to let me know that I wasn’t totally safe.
There was no reason to look around; there was only one person who could make me feel that way in this building. My focus remained on my cup as I stirred in my packets of Splenda. Every cell of my body was telling me to run, but what was the point? Besides, he was less likely to yell at me in front of other people.
I hoped.
The air shifted when he took the same place against the counter that Rossi had just occupied; I'm sure he noticed subtle changes in my posture, no matter how hard I tried to hide them.
I gathered up the empty packets in one hand and gripped the handle of my mug in the other. “Excuse me,” I mumbled as I moved around him.
I hadn’t taken more than two steps before he spoke. “Agent.”
“Yes, sir?” I spun on my heel to face him.
He looked just the same as he had in his office. Trademark scowl, closely cropped dark hair, piercing dark eyes, black suit, red tie. Most of all he still looked utterly displeased that I existed in his general vicinity.
Agent Hotchner seemed to hesitate for a minute while his eyes ran over my face. “I…I, um.” He paused to clear his throat. “I expect that form to be re-entered into the system before the noon briefing.”
Right. I glanced at the clock on the wall, noting the time was 11:15 am. “I’ll do it right now.”
He looked like he would say something else but snapped his lips together, giving me a sharp nod instead. I took that as a dismissal and made my way back to my desk.
Aaron Hotchner had won this round.