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Aaron groaned when he felt Tor shifting beside him. He did not need to open his eyes to know that it was too damn early for either of them to be getting out of bed. They were home on a weekend with no plans other than getting Jack out of his PJs at a respectable time and tidying up the apartment in preparation for the coming week. None of which required them to wake up before sunrise.
He rolled over and wrapped his arms around her, determined to keep her in bed without having to open his eyes.
They flew open when he heard her hiss of pain.
"Angel?" he asked, squinting to make her out in the darkness of their room. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she assured him with a pat on his chest. "Go back to sleep."
He frowned as he pushed himself onto his elbow, finally able to see her face. She looked up at him, her hair splayed across the pillow after it had come out of its ponytail and her face still a bit puffy from sleep. She was so beautiful like this, and he would usually think about how blessed he was that she was the first thing he saw every morning. But not today. No, today, he was running through every possible explanation as to why she was in pain.
"What's wrong?" he repeated, his voice low with worry and gravely from sleep. She sighed and ran a hand over her face, but he captured it and held it so she could not hide from him.
"Aaron, it's nothing. Really!" she tried to insist. But when she shifted on the bed, it was accompanied by a wince.
"Like hell, it's nothing," he rasped, trying to figure out what she could be hiding from him. She had been sharing her cycle tracker with him ever since they had agreed to try for a baby, so it couldn't be her period that was making her so evasive. Her last case in the field had been blessedly uneventful, so it could not be an injury. And she had the immune system of a preschool teacher, so he doubted it was any illness.
Her free hand reached to tug the comforter over her stomach, but he spotted the movement before she could finish it. He caught her other hand, stopping her from hiding whatever she wanted to keep from him. A frustrated whine came from the back of her throat, but that was not enough to deter him. He let go of her hand and gave her a stern look so she would not try to move it again. Tor scowled up at him, but she knew him well enough to understand that resistance was futile.
Moving slowly so she could stop him if she genuinely wanted to, he reached down and gingerly lifted the hem of her shirt.
She exhaled sharply and tipped her head back as he moved it to expose the smooth skin of her stomach.
"Aaron-" she began placatingly.
He stopped hearing what she said after he saw the bruises.
Deep purple splotches covered her stomach, trailing from the waistband of her pants to the bottom of her rib cage. They were fresh. They had to be since he could not remember seeing them in the past week. His hand ghosted over her skin, and her stomach tightened instinctively as if bracing for pain. Protective rage boiled in his veins, filling him with fury as a single thought consumed his mind.
"Angel," he began, fighting to keep his anger from spilling into his words, "who did this to you?"
She blinked, her mouth opening as she took in the full force of a murderous Aaron Hotchner.
"It's not-"
"Angel."
"I don't-"
"Angel." He leveled her with a stern glare. "Tell me."
She huffed and swatted away his hand, allowing her to tug her shirt down again.
"Promise you won't get mad."
"No."
"Aaron!" she exclaimed exasperatedly. "I promise you, whatever you think happened is not what happened. Don't you think I would have told you if it was something serious?"
He held back from reminding her how many times she had hidden her needs in some misguided attempt to avoid burdening him.
"Tell me what happened," he practically ordered her, barely stopping himself from pulling out his Section Chief voice. But if she kept this up, he would do almost anything to pry the truth out of her.
"Okay, just-" She sighed and shook her head. "Just promise me you will wait for me to tell you everything before you react."
"Fine," he gritted out, already thinking through how he would destroy anyone who had dared to lay a hand on her.
She scooted out from under him so she could lean against the headboard. He clenched his fists when he saw the flicker of pain cross her face with each movement but held his tongue. For now.
Tor glanced down at his fist gripping the bedspread like it was his last tether to sanity.
She placed her hand over his reassuringly. Or perhaps restrainingly. He wasn't sure.
"So, my field duty recertification is coming up," she began, her voice slow and cautious. "And I've been worrying about whether I will pass."
Aaron nodded. He had been worrying about her passing it too, but for the opposite reason. Watching Tor go into the field without him there to watch her back had been agony. He had genuinely considered abusing his authority to make her fail her recertification on more than one occasion.
"I know I will pass the marksmanship portion," she explained. "And thanks to your marathon training, I'm not worried about the mile run." She flashed him an appreciative smile, but he did not fall for her bait. He knew she wanted him to remember what usually came after their training sessions. Any other morning, he would suggest they do some... cardio. However, that morning, he was far more interested in throwing punches.
"Go on," he prompted, his voice low like a snake hiding in the grass.
Her smile dropped.
"But I know I need to work on my hand-to-hand skills," she continued. "Most of the unsubs we go after have at least fifty pounds on me. Not to mention a foot of height. I've been careful to never be alone in the field," she quickly added, as if she could hear him figuring out how he could interfere with her recertification exams. "And we rarely get into situations where I'd need to be able to get out from a pin or something. But I know I need to work on it, just in case."
She was picking at a loose thread on her shirt, her gaze decidedly averted from him.
He waited, counting his breaths so he did not lose his tenuous grasp on his temper.
"I mentioned my concerns to Morgan, and he offered to help me prepare," she said, her voice so soft Aaron had to read her lips. "We left the office early yesterday to go to the gym."
Aaron nodded, the pieces slowly falling into place.
"We did some work with the dummies, but I still didn't feel confident," she admitted. "I don't know if you remember how it feels to be five foot three, but it can be... intimidating." She stole a glance at him, her eyes darting over his hard face in search of any signs of softening. When she saw none, she went back to picking at her clothes. "I can punch and kick with the best of them. And my Krav Maga should make me feel confident. But it doesn't. I know that if someone big enough and strong enough got on top of me that-" She cut herself off with a shudder.
Aaron relaxed his fist and turned his hand over, threading his fingers between hers and giving her a comforting squeeze. He did his best to remember that the female agents under his charge had more to worry about than the men. They were usually smaller, and the killers they hunted usually harbored homicidal hatred toward all women. It was a dangerous job for even the fittest of men, let alone women who had to reckon with the fact that they would always be the first targets. But as much as Aaron tried to empathize with the stress that caused them, he knew he would never fully understand their fears.
"Morgan kept trying to tell me that I would be fine, but I didn't believe him," she said with a shrug. "I just- I just kept thinking about what would happen if I got pinned. It freaked me out. So he-" She straightened her shoulders and looked Aaron in the eye. "He offered to spar with me."
Aaron blinked.
Morgan was a certified hand-to-hand combat instructor. Morgan regularly deadlifted the weight of half of the BAU combined. Morgan had never lost a sparing match against any opponent, no matter how strong or skilled they were.
And Tor...
Tor had bruises all over her stomach.
"What happened?" Aaron asked, fighting to keep his voice from rising to a shout. "What did he do?"
"He took it easy on me," Tor insisted. "He pulled all his punches and let me flip him onto his back in the first round. But I knew I wouldn't get better if he let me win. So I told him to make it real."
Aaron closed his eyes as he forced air into his lungs.
"How real?"
"I told him to do whatever it took to keep me on the ground."
He pinched his brow, thinking through the Hell he would put Morgan through.
"It was my fault, okay?" she tried to insist. "I egged him on. I told him the best thing he could do for me was make sure I'd be ready to win in a real fight. I did that. Not him."
"How did you get these bruises?" Aaron asked softly.
"He got his arms around my middle," she admitted. "He had me face-down with his hands digging into me. He wasn't trying to hurt me!" she insisted. "It was just the grip he had on me. I was fighting like hell to get out of it, and he had to tighten his hold to keep me there."
Aaron's heart stopped beating. He could not- he would not allow himself to imagine what that had to have been like for her. Tor was one of the strongest people he'd ever known, but courage had its limits. And after everything she had endured, being restrained like that must have been Hell.
"Are you okay?" he asked, tender fear softening his voice.
Her hand cupped his cheek, her thumb running along the ridge of his cheekbone to soothe his racing thoughts.
"I'm fine," she promised him with a brave smile. "Morgan was talking to me the whole time, hyping me up and making sure I didn't start to think about anything else."
Aaron amended his plan for what he had in store for Morgan, but only slightly. Keeping Tor from having a panic attack was not enough to make up for putting her in a situation where she could have had one.
"What happened after he had you pinned?" Aaron asked, dreading her answer.
"I won that round!" she said with pride. "I managed to turn so I was on my back, and I used my legs to knock him off balance to get out from under him. After that, I ran out of the ring before he could stop me. That was our goal because we knew if I were ever in a fight like that in the field, I'd need to be able to run, not stay."
Aaron could tell she wanted him to congratulate her, but the words were caught in his throat. All he could think about was Tor being covered in bruises after a fight against a man whom she considered a dear friend. He knew Morgan well enough to know that he had been holding back even when he had been wrestling Tor to the ground. He could never channel the murderous intent Tor would be up against if she ever got into a fight in the field. If these bruises mottling her skin resulted from a practice match, what would be the result of the real thing?
He carefully lifted her shirt again, taking in the slight of the purple splotches splayed across her stomach. She said nothing as he watched them rise and fall with her breath. He could practically see Morgan's fingers digging into her. The smear of color must have come from his hands dragging across her skin as she struggled beneath him.
He leaned forward and gently kissed the palest bruise.
Tor ran her fingers through his hair as a sigh escaped her.
"I wish you had told me how worried you were about this," he said, raising his eyes to her. "I would have helped you."
"I know," she assured him, still carding his hair. "But I didn't want to make you worry about me being in the field more than you already do. I know you've been thinking about keeping me from fieldwork," she added with a wry smile. "Which is why Morgan is having Section Chief Granger handle my recertification."
Aaron groaned as he rested his head against her stomach. Her laughter made it tremble beneath him, and he pressed another kiss to it before straightening and looking her in the eye.
"I won't sabotage your career," he promised.
"Or Morgan's?"
His expression darkened.
"Aaron, I asked him to pin me!" Tor reminded him.
"I know. But I asked him to keep you from getting hurt. And this-" he gestured at the bruises like violets against snow, "is not what I had in mind."
"You'll be thanking him if I ever have to fight my way out from under a suspect," she said with an eyeroll.
"No, I'll be killing him for letting you be in danger," he retorted. Tor's expression soured into a deep scowl, but he was not exaggerating. "Morgan knew what he was signing up for when he agreed to work for me while keeping you on the team."
"Well, I don't think he was expecting-" She cut herself off, her nose scrunched as she thought. "Is there a word for killing your coworker?"
He considered her question, heralding back to his Latin classes at Saint Bernard's.
"There isn't one, but I suppose we like each other enough to qualify for 'amicicide,'" he finally answered. "And 'fratricide' can be used for brothers-in-arms, not just siblings."
"I don't think Morgan was thinking you'd be contemplating any '-cides' when he agreed to be unit chief," Tor reminded him with a dry chuckle. "Besides, him sparring with me is his way of keeping me safe. Better I be prepared for the worst-case scenario than deal with it in the field without preparation."
Aaron scowled and shook his head.
"Well, I supposed it's a good thing Chief Granger owes me a favor," he warned her.
She scoffed and tugged his hair as punishment for his snark.
"Just-" He covered her stomach with her shirt again, unable to bear the sight of the marks any longer. "Promise me that the next time you want a hand-to-hand combat refresher, you'll ask me instead."
"Aaron, you don't need to be field duty ready," she reminded him. "You've got yourself a cushy desk job!"
"Are you suggesting I've gone soft?" he asked, a slight edge to his teasing tone. He tugged her down from the headboard until she was flat on her back, allowing him to cover her lower body with his. He kept as much of his weight off of her as she could, his focus split between holding their eye contact and ensuring he did not crush her beneath him. Seeing him looming over her was enough to make Tor blush and giggle.
"Hardly," she assured him with a wink as she dragged her nails across the taut skin between his shoulders. "I'm just saying that it might be better if I trained with someone who was slightly more familiar with the hand-to-hand element of it. That's all!"
He scoffed and kissed her cheek before whispering in her ear, "I'd say I'm very familiar with having you under me."
She braced her hand against his shoulder before kicking out her back leg, making him lose his balance and fall forward. She used his momentum against him and flipped him onto his back before he could comprehend what she was doing. The next thing he knew, he was looking up at her in amazement while she sat on his pelvis. Her knees squeezed his sides as she leaned over him. Her hair fell into his face, and her voice filled with mirth when she retorted, "And on top of you."
He laughed, his hand kneading her hip as she leaned down to kiss him.
"I suppose there are a few things you and I can work on before my next recertification," she conceded, her lips skimming his. "But I am going to keep training with Morgan and the others too."
Aaron decided against telling her that Morgan would not be foolish enough to agree to sparring with her again. She'd figure that out soon enough.
"Do they hurt?" he asked, looking up into her gleaming eyes for any signs of discomfort.
"Only when I clench my muscles," she assured him. "Or something presses against them."
He nodded, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear.
"You're taking it easy today," he informed her.
"Aaron," she groaned, but he would not be persuaded.
"You're lucky I'm not trying to keep you in bed for the rest of the weekend," he warned.
"You're not?" she asked, glancing at his hand still massaging her hip. He chuckled as he shifted it to give her ass a gentle squeeze, but stopped himself from doing any more. Tor needed painkillers and a heating pad for her sore muscles, not whatever else her devious mind was thinking up for their Saturday morning.
"I'm not," he promised, withdrawing his hand. Her visible disappointment did nothing for his self-control, but her wince when she shifted her weight did. "Come on," he said, scooping her up before she could protest and carrying her toward their bathroom. "I'm drawing you a bath. And you are going to relax and use one of those bath bombs you keep saying you're saving for a special occasion."
"And what occasion is this?" she asked with a giggle as he carefully maneuvered her through the door.
"The imminent passing of your recertification," he replied, setting her on the countertop so he could have his hands free. She grabbed his wrist before he could turn to the bath and tugged him back to her.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the bruises," she said softly, her arms draped around his neck and her eyes filled with genuine remorse. "I just didn't want you to worry."
"I know," he said, kissing her forehead. "And I'm sorry you didn't feel like you could talk to me about this."
"I know I can," she assured him. "I just-" She sighed heavily, resting her forehead against his. "I hate to think of you worrying about me."
"I'm afraid that's not going to stop any time soon," he admitted with a small smile. "But I promise I will try to be less... stifling about it."
She hugged him tightly, and his arms instinctively went around her waist, holding her so close to him he could feel her heartbeat.
"I like when you're stifling," she teased.
"Good, because I don't think I'm going to be able to break that habit quickly," he admitted with a rueful chuckle.
She chuckled before lightly pushing him away.
"Well, if I get bubble baths out of it, then it can't be all bad," she teased. He scoffed as he reached for the cabinet where she hoarded bath supplies and selected the combination he knew would be the most soothing for her sore muscles. He could not make the bruises fade faster or his fears go away. But he could make her feel better for the next hour. And he could do everything in his power to keep her from getting hurt again.
Two days later, Aaron strolled into the BAU's bullpen, his head held high and his jaw locked. Tor startled when he passed her desk, but for once, he was not there to see her.
Morgan stepped out of his office, wearing his suit jacket and a smile.
He stopped in his tracks when he saw Aaron stalking toward him.
He looked around for an escape route, but he was trapped between the dead end of the briefing room and the staircase Aaron was about to climb. Before Morgan could jump over the railing and make a run for it, Aaron said, "Agent Morgan, can we speak in your office?"
Morgan shot Tor a desperate look, but it would not be enough to save him.
"Sure, Hotch," he said, his voice unsteady. He turned and walked back into his office, running a hand over his shaved head.
Aaron followed him in before closing the door behind him.
"So," Morgan began, moving behind his desk to put another obstacle between himself and the seething Section Chief. "I take it you and Tor... spoke."
"Yes."
Morgan visibly swallowed.
"And she told you about-"
"How she got those bruises," Aaron supplied.
Morgan grabbed the back of his chair.
"Bruises?" he repeated, horror in his voice. "She didn't tell me I left bruises!"
Aaron nodded, watching Morgan spiral and debating how long to let it go on. He knew Morgan cared about Tor like she was his sister and would do anything to keep her safe. But he also needed to do something to appease his raging temper that had been begging for release since he saw those marks on her stomach.
"You know how stressed out she gets before her recertification," Morgan began, his words pouring out of him so quickly Aaron wondered how he could be thinking before he spoke. "She has been worrying about this and was starting to get into her head, so I figured beating me would make her feel better about it! But then she knew I was taking it easy, and you know how much she hates that."
"Morgan-"
"So when she told me to make it a real fight, I thought it would be good practice for both of us! I was careful to not hit her hard or anything, and I thought pinning her would be the safest way for me to fight without risking her safety."
"Morgan-"
"I had no idea I was holding her tightly enough to leave bruises," Morgan continued, apparently too rattled by the sight of a very angry Section Chief Hotchner in his office to realize he was rambling. "Hotch, you gotta believe me-"
"I know you didn't mean to grab her that tightly," Aaron cut him off, his voice low and steady.
Morgan blinked.
"You- you do?"
He nodded.
"I know Tor has a habit of getting people to be harder on her than they should be," he said diplomatically. "She's pulled it off with me too."
Morgan gave him a dumbfounded look.
"But I need you to be honest with me about something," Aaron continued, stepping closer to Morgan, who looked like he needed to sit down and put his head between his knees.
"What?" he asked, confusion keeping his voice soft.
"Did you let Tor beat you during that final round?" he asked.
Morgan exhaled in relief, and Aaron momentarily wondered what he thought he was going to ask.
"No," he said with a rueful chuckle. "No, I did not. I was thinking about it since the last thing she needed before we scheduled her recertification was to get beaten in a fight. But before I could, she somehow wiggled herself loose enough to get on her back and pulled some of that Krav Maga shit to get herself out of my hold."
Aaron felt his entire body relax.
"She's good, Hotch," Morgan promised him. "She's crazy, and I am never letting her talk me into sparring again, but she's a damn good field agent. And she has a hell of a roundhouse."
He let out a scoff of a laugh and nodded.
"Yeah, she does," he agreed. "Thank you, Morgan."
"Yeah, of course," Morgan said with palpable relief. "I'm glad I could help her get some of her mojo back."
"I am too. And I appreciate you having Chief Granger take on her recertification," he added.
"Yeah, I know I should have given you a heads up about that-" Morgan began, but Aaron shook his head to stop him.
"It's the right call. I'm far from objective when it comes to her. Besides," he smirked, "it frees me up to personally oversee your recertification."
Whatever confidence had been restored in Morgan vanished as quickly as it came.
"Wait, you mean-"
Aaron nodded.
"I'm going to be the one to make sure that you are ready for anything that comes at you in the field," Aaron explained calmly. "Or anyone. "
Morgan pulled out his chair and sat down.
"Friday at four, you and I are going to have your hand-to-hand test," Aaron announced. "And I won't be worrying about protecting your 'mojo' when we're on the mat."
"Oh hell yes!" a familiar voice crowed on the other side of the door. Aaron turned and opened it to reveal Garcia and Tor huddled next to it. Garcia was grinning widely, her eyes alight at the idea of seeing her Chocolate Thunder in action. Tor's expression was far more subdued, but Aaron recognized an interested gleam in her smile.
"Hello, Garcia," he said slowly. She beamed up at him, utterly unphased at being caught snooping.
"Hello, sir!" she chirped. "Did we hear a gentlemen's duel being planned?"
"You mean when you were listening in on a private conversation between two high-level FBI agents?" he asked dryly.
She nodded, her earrings and bells in her hair jangling.
Aaron shot Tor a look, giving her one of those glimmers of a smile she was the only one to recognize. She shot him a quick wink before turning her attention to Garcia, who grabbed her arm and shook it excitedly.
"We should bring popcorn!" Garcia exclaimed.
"Babygirl-" Morgan started to protest, but it was too late.
"Just make sure you also bring something to drink," Emily said as she walked behind them and headed for the briefing room. "Something tells me you two are going to be thirsty ."
Garcia squealed with joy and began to rattle off the many snacks she would bring. Morgan gave Aaron a tight smile as he walked around him and began to guide Garcia to the briefing room as she continued to explain how she'd be turning the recertification into a spectacle.
"Morgan," Aaron called, his voice bearing an edge of warning.
He turned, his expression one of dread.
"Don't be late."
Morgan swallowed and resumed dragging Garcia away from Aaron before she could plan a live stream of the sparring session.
Aaron resumed facing Tor, who was looking up at him with a smirk and a raised brow.
"Don't give me that look," he warned her, stepping back into the office. She followed him in, keeping the door open for propriety's sake.
"Oh, you mean my 'I told you it was an accident, but you have to do something about it anyways' look?" she asked coyly.
"Yes, that look."
She shrugged and glanced back to ensure no one was watching them before moving closer to him.
"Are you going to want to have any training sessions before Friday?" she asked, looking up at him innocently through her lashes.
"I'll be sure to ask you if I need a refresher course on pinning," he replied, leaning down so no one could hear him.
"I won't leave too many bruises," she promised, rising onto her toes to kiss his cheek quickly before turning sharply and heading for the briefing room. He watched her go with an amazed smile. She was safe. She was happy. And he would do whatever it took to keep her that way. No matter how many bruises he got in the process.