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Aaron Hotchner, or simply "Hotch" as his agents called him, impatiently knocked on the unfamiliar front door. In truth, he barely remembered how he had rushed out of the long-empty office, got into the car, and driven to his subordinate's house. He hadn’t even noticed the raindrops relentlessly hitting his face, soaking through his perfectly tailored suit. His normally neat hair now looked chaotic, wet from the rain and further ruffled by his hand as it ran through it in tense anticipation.
Peering through the peephole, Spencer Reid was puzzled to see such an unexpected guest, especially at this late hour. He immediately opened the door, only to be taken aback by the sight of the man: he was clearly agitated and soaked through. Out of the corner of his eye, Reid noticed his hands trembling.
“Hotch?” Rid called quietly, realizing no explanation of the sight would follow.
It was strange, as Hotchner seemed to be in a rush to get here, evidenced by his heavy breathing and disheveled appearance. Aaron Hotchner was not one to hold dramatic pauses, nor was he generally emotional. This suggested that something of utmost importance was going on, since even in the most critical situations, Hotch remained composed and didn’t let his emotions take over.
Finally, the man seemed to snap out of his silent contemplation of Reid. He exhaled shakily and swallowed thickly.
"Hello, Reid," he started, his voice initially confident, but growing quieter with each passing second. "Sorry for… showing up like this… and so late…." Aaron glanced at his watch, as if just realizing how late it was to be standing on someone’s doorstep.
"No, it’s fine," Reid said understandingly, starting to feel anxious and wishing Hotch would get to the point. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah… I mean… not exactly." He suddenly went silent, squinting and rubbing his face with his hand. He sighed heavily. "I haven’t slept much in the past few days, so today I decided to stay in the office to work, since I couldn’t sleep anyway. But my thoughts keep going back to that day. I keep remembering the barn with the remains of the girl that the dogs tore apart, JJ being so scared… the news that you were gone, and then that video… God, my heart stopped when I saw your face on the screen. And that wound on your temple… The broadcast was almost like all the others… I knew what would happen in the end… It terrified me. But you… you’re alive, and… Oh."
Hotchner shook his shoulders, and suddenly, as if driven by some unknown impulse, he lunged forward and pulled Spencer into a tight embrace. Reid gasped in surprise but didn’t think to resist. Then, he heard Hotchner’s strained murmurs, muffled by their clothes.
" …And then you had that attack, and… I felt so helpless, Reid. I saw you gasping for air and… I just wished it was me instead of you. That you wouldn’t have to go through that. With every breath you took, I could see the life leaving you, and it felt like pieces of me were being ripped away. I couldn’t do anything to help… And then… you were lying there… completely lifeless, and I… I thought it was the end…"
Hearing this, Reid also recalled the event, but not as vividly as before. Though it had happened just a few days ago, now it seemed unimportant. Spencer knew Hotch cared about him—and not just him—but to see him so deeply affected… it was unexpected, yet somehow comforting.
"Hotch, it’s all over now. I’m okay."
Aaron pulled away, still holding Reid by the shoulders. He looked into his eyes, seemingly searching for confirmation of his words. Reid couldn’t bear the despair and pain reflected in them, so he turned away.
"Let’s go inside. You’re soaked."
Hotch only just noticed this himself. He awkwardly glanced at his drenched clothes as Reid closed the door behind him. Spencer slipped past the special agent and into the living room.
Aaron walked slowly into the dimly lit room. So much about it reminded him of Reid. Hundreds of books… Even the furniture seemed to reflect his personality.
Reid cleared his throat:
"Well… Hmm… Welcome, I guess?"
Hotch only nodded and stood awkwardly in the middle of the living room.
"Take a seat. Maybe… some tea? Of course… it’s better to make tea, you’re freezing," he said, already rushing toward the kitchen, his voice muffled. " …I just put the kettle on… Did you know that statistically… hypothermia… white tea…"
Hotchner sat down on the couch and finally exhaled in relief. Listening to Reid’s usual enthusiastic rambling about statistics and facts, he smiled—peacefully and softly. Only now did he fully realize that it was all over. Reid was safe.
Leaning back on the couch, he didn’t notice when his eyes closed. He came to when he felt the couch sink beside him, and two steaming mugs filled with fragrant liquid appeared on the coffee table. Hotch turned his head but didn’t get up.
Reid looked concerned.
"Hotch, are… are you okay?" he hesitated. "I mean, overall… not counting…"
"Yeah," Hotch smiled calmly, looking at the younger man. "You know, Reid, I’m really proud of you. I may have never said it before, but it’s true. You’re an outstanding young man. I admire your knowledge, sensitivity, selflessness, and depth."
Reid blinked, taken aback.
"And I’m proud of what you did that day. When we didn’t know what else to do to find you, to get you out of there, you gave us clues. You remembered our argument and helped me understand. You did well, Reid."
Spencer fell silent, not knowing what to say. He was overwhelmed by the revelation from his mentor. Until now, he had never heard these words from anyone and always thought he didn’t need them. But hearing them for the first time made him realize how much he had needed to hear them.
"I don’t like losing control, you know that. But that day…" He paused for a moment, trying to put his thoughts together and steady himself. "I didn’t feel that kind of despair even when Haley left. When I started believing we’d make it, that you’d be safe… The shot at the cemetery just knocked the ground out from under me. But you made it through. As much as I wanted to protect you, to shield you from all that horror, I understand…" He took a deep breath and looked at Reid with a new, almost paternal warmth. "You’re no longer the kid who just joined the team. You’ve grown, Reid."
After a pause, Hotch unexpectedly added:
"Spencer, listen. I know this might sound strange. I’ve never been good at this," the man suddenly became serious and straightened up. "At showing emotions, I mean. Every time someone asks me about kids, or I overhear random conversations between parents, lately, two children always come to my mind, for the sake of which I am ready to do anything, if only they were safe. One is my son Jack, and the other… is you, Spencer Reid..."
Spencer lowered his gaze to his hands, tightly clasped together.
" …And after all this, I realized I’m afraid of losing you just as much as I’m afraid of losing my own son."
The young man listened silently, his face unreadable. But when Hotch finished speaking, his eyes filled with tears in the blink of an eye. And no matter how foolish or childish it felt, he really started crying. The hot tears rolled down his cheeks, and he didn’t try to wipe them away.
"Spencer? Did I say something wrong?" Aaron looked at him worriedly. "Was it too sudden, too persistent… You don’t have to say anything… I’m just…"
"No," Reid grabbed his forearm as though afraid to let go. "No… It was unexpected, but… I just never… never thought anyone would… consider me their… son."
Aaron felt his heart tighten. He hesitated for just a moment before moving closer and, without saying a word, gently pulled him into an embrace—one hand on his back, the other on his neck, as though protecting him.
Spencer swallowed, trying to control the overwhelming emotions. He had never experienced anything like this—feeling not just respected as a professional, not just cared for as a friend, but actually loved. Not romantic love, not friendly attachment, but something deeper, something Spencer had always considered out of reach for him.
Reid didn’t answer immediately, but soon his hands hesitantly lifted and gripped Hotch’s jacket fabric. His breath was uneven, and his shoulders trembled.
Spencer almost felt, rather than saw, Hotchner’s slight smile, but his voice remained serious:
“You’re part of my family, Reid. Whether you see it that way or not.”
Reid closed his eyes. Family. That word had always seemed like something abstract to him. His mother had loved him, of course, but their relationship had always been complicated. He had always felt responsible, and he never knew what it was like to trust someone so much that he could allow himself to be weak. But now… now he was sitting next to someone who had seen him at his worst, who had cared for him, who, even if not immediately, had come to him because he couldn’t bear the thought of losing him.
“I… Thank you,” he murmured quietly. His voice trembled.
Hotchner smiled softly, feeling warmth spread through his body at those words.
After a while, Aaron finally slowly released his embrace, and Spencer hurriedly turned away, wiping the wet traces from his cheeks with his hand. He grabbed his mug from the table, leaning back against the couch cushion.
They sat in silence, interrupted only by the muffled noise outside. The rain had softened, and the drops gently tapped on the windowsill, creating a calming rhythm.
“Hotch… will you stay?” Spencer quietly asked before realizing he had spoken the words out loud.
The man looked at Reid, at his slender fingers gripping the mug, at his slumped shoulders, at his eyes full of uncertainty, and understood that this kid—no longer a kid—was an adult who, perhaps, had lived too long not knowing what true parental love and protection meant.
Aaron wanted to change that.
“Spencer,” he called softly.
Reid lifted his eyes to meet his, still reflecting the emotions he had just been through.
“Just know… that you’re not alone. And no matter what happens, from now on, I’ll always be there.”
Spencer nodded weakly, his breath gradually calming. The room became quiet, but it was a silence without tension, only a sense of ease and the warm realization that they both had found something new.
“And since I’m going to sleep on this couch, I’ll need a blanket,” Hotch smirked.
Reid responded with a genuine laugh, feeling the last remnants of the evening’s worries evaporate.
“I’ll go find you a towel and something dry first.”
He disappeared into the hallway, and Hotch allowed himself to close his eyes. That night, for the first time in a long while, he felt truly at peace.