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Happy thanksgiving best friend!! ❤️❤️❤️

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Thank you, Morgan! Hope you have an amazing day 🥰

Two’s Company, Four’s a Crowd // Robert “Bob” Floyd

Based off of: the Hot Writer Summer Challenge hosted by @mermaidxatxheart

TW: drinking, reference to sex

Prompt: “It never stops hurting, does it?” “What?” “Giving someone the best of you and watching them choose someone else.”

Addtl. information: background Hangster, background unrequited!Rooster x Reader, background unrequited!Floydsin; your callsign is Mercury

Two’s Company, Four’s A Crowd // Robert “Bob” Floyd

TOP GUN MASTERLIST // ROBERT “BOB” FLOYD MASTERLIST // BRADLEY “ROOSTER” BRADSHAW MASTERLIST

It’s been a month since the newly-minted Dagger Squadron has been back from the leave following the debriefing, the group of fifteen—fourteen if you don’t count Maverick—having been permanently assigned out of North Island NAS following the mission completion. It’s near the end of the day, and the group has been dismissed, each heading back to their dorms—nicer than last time, as they’re all single-person. You decide to get some cleaning done while the others shower, knowing that you’d rather wait until they’ve cleared out and not have to deal with fighting for the next spot in line.

You put some music on as you work, humming along. You had had some friends in your room for a movie night last night, and hadn’t really had a chance to clean up after they left until now. Needless to say, it’s a mess. You forgot how slobby your friends can be.

As you deal with the trash and food and various other objects left behind, you find a jacket that you instantly recognize as Rooster’s, passed down from his dad via Maverick back when Bradley was taking care of his mom. Checking the time, you sigh; it’s too late now, you’ll give it back to him tomorrow morning.

And so, the next day, in regulation makeup and bun, you head over to Bradley’s room, aviator jacket in hand. You raise your hand to knock just as the door opens, and you’re met with a barely-awake Jake Seresin.

“Merc,” he greets, unfazed at your presence.

“Sup,” you respond lamely, glancing away awkwardly. You’re tense, unsure of how best to react to this… development.

“Roose, you got company,” the Texan calls back into the dorm.

Rooster appears suddenly, hair mussed and shirtless. You keep your eyes decidedly straight ahead, taking every ounce of self control not to glance down. “Uh, here,” you tell him, thrusting your hand forward. “You left this last night.”

“Thanks.” He takes it, rubbing the back of his neck as you stand there, flushed and tense.

“I’ll, uh,” you finger gun awkwardly. “Let you guys get back to whatever you were doing. Uh, I’ve got concealer in shades that should fit each of you, if you want. Don’t ask why, I have like every skin shade concealer ever. But, uh, yeah.”

“Thanks,” Jake responds with a wink. “We probably need it.”

“Right.” You jut your thumb behind you, beginning to back away. “I’ll, uh, I’ll just go now.” Swiftly, you turn, making sure you’re in the comfort of your room before you allow yourself to break down.

You see, you’ve been in love with Bradley Bradshaw for years. It began when you were just starting out, assigned to the same squadron as him. You had a friendly rivalry for a little while that soon turned into a genuine close friendship. Then, he got called to Top Gun, where he met Hangman and Phoenix. You had already had a crush on him for a little while; had come out to each other as bi; had had a crush for long enough that you knew it surpassed the usual definition. You weren’t an idiot; he loves you platonically, not romantically. Still, you’re quite accomplished at hiding your feelings, continuing to be the best friend, secretly pining. Intellectually, you know he isn’t interested. And yet you naïvely held out hope.

Now, you’re facing the consequences of doing so; the results of your optimism. Jake and Bradley are together—as anyone could have seen coming—and you’re in the best friend zone. Where you’ll stay. You were Bradley’s therapist when he ‘hated’ Hangman; his confidant when he began to come to terms with how much he loved liked the fellow pilot; and you’re sure you’ll be there for the rest of it.

Fuck.

A knock on your door breaks you from your misery. You quickly take measures to make sure you don’t look like you’ve just been crying before opening it to reveal Hangman.

“Hey, what’s up?”

He rubs his neck awkwardly. “Were you, uh, serious about the concealer?”

“Yeah, of course.” You open the door wider, letting him in, before digging through your makeup container. You quickly find a few shades that you think might work, having him hold his arm out for you to test them. Once you’ve figured it out, you pass him the container and applicator, assuming he’ll show himself out.

He doesn’t.

He just stands there awkwardly, watching you clean up. Finally, you’re fed up with it. “Need something else?”

“Just, uh… you won’t tell anybody about, uh, me and Bradley, right?”

You pause and meet his eyes, winking. “Tell them what?”

Jake smirks cockily, eyes showing how relieved he feels. “Thanks, Mercury. Real trooper.”

“My pleasure.” With that, he takes his leave, concealer in hand, and you’re left to finish getting ready.

That evening, you sit alone at the bar at the Hard Deck, sipping your drink and watching Rooster and Hangman play pool across the way.

“You caught them?” Comes a voice from your side. You start, beer spilling and dripping on your shirt.

“Shit,” you curse, immediately grabbing napkins. “Can’t sneak up on me like that, Bobert.”

“Sorry,” Bob apologizes, passing you more napkins to assist.

It’s then that you process. “How long have you known?”

He shrugs. “A while. They’re really bad at being discreet, I’ve gone to shower and had to turn around far too many times.”

You furrow your brows. “Do you think anyone else knows?”

“Nah,” he refuted pensively. “If Nat did she’d’ve told me, the rest would be spreading the information if they knew and are generally oblivious. Maybe Coyote, that’d be the one exception.”

“Gotcha,” you nod, humming in consideration. The jukebox cuts out suddenly, and Phoenix appears to drag Bob to the piano to dance with her as Rooster plays. You sip from the drink in your hand as you watch, pang in your heart as Rooster grins over at Hangman, who subtly winks back. Unable to take it, you swallow down the last of the contents of the bottle, waving down one of the bartenders on shift and getting a refill before heading out the back door of the Hard Deck.

You stare up at the sky from your spot in the sand, sitting with your knees hugged to your chest. The moon’s normally benevolent brilliance seems to mock you now, the former source of comfort now its antonym. Its light scatters across the waves, pushing and pulling them, prodding them in and out, in and out. Coming closer but never touching, receding but never disappearing, only to start the process over again. You don’t know how long you sit there, condensation on the bottle as you peel at the label, zoning out and staring into the darkness of the open sea where you can’t tell where the sky ends and the water begins in the navy midnight.

You feel rather than see the shifting of sand, gentle breeze floating through your hair as someone sits beside you. You know who it is without looking.

“It hurts, doesn’t it.”

Your answer is silence as you both watch the water, minds and hearts stuck inside the brightly lit bar as you sit in barely-illuminated darkness.

Bob takes a sip of his own beer before he elaborates at your unspoken behest. “Giving someone the best of you and watching them choose someone else.”

“Yeah.” You glance backwards, easily spotting Rooster and Hangman dancing together, grins more blinding than the sun’s reflection off a car. You watch them for a moment, every second breaking you anew, over and over, Prometheus of the heart. Living through the pain of it slowly chipping away, the pain of it growing anew, the process as repetitious and torrent as the tide in a storm.

You shift to look at Bob, the light from the bar illuminating his back and casting a shadow over his face. The dim moonlight barely gives you enough to make out his silhouette; the bridge of his nose, curls of his hair.

“You love him, don’t you?”

Your words are quiet but meaningful, mind going to the resident Texan. Bob sighs, glancing down and picking at the label on his drink.

“Yeah.” No explanation is needed. “But he’s with…”

“Bradley. Who is with…”

“Jake.”

Your mutual pain overwhelms the two of you, a tsunamic version of the waves before you, leaving you drowning, swimming up and up and up in an attempt to breach the surface but disoriented and only descending further into the murky depths of loss and love, of the juxtaposition betwixt the two. You don’t realize that your snapping your hair band against your wrist until Bob reaches out and covers it gently, effectively barring it from happening further.

“I get it,” he says eventually, breaking the silence, the dark void. His voice breaks in turn. “I really, really do.”

You shift to rest your head on his shoulder. “It fucking hurts, Bobby.”

“I know,” he agrees, tears dripping onto your hair as your own find their way to his shirt. He shifts to bring an arm around you, pulling you into an embrace. You cling to each other, a lifeline, a tether, the only thing keeping the both of you from falling fully and never resurfacing. “Christ.” He laughs wetly.

And so you stay like that. You don’t know how much time passes as you sit in the sand, wind picking up until it’s stinging your skin, but you stay nonetheless, unbothered. Neither of you can bring yourselves to drag back into the bar, into the light and the revelry that so clearly exists as if in defiance of your pain and pining. So you stay in the darkness, soaking up comfort from your friend as he does the same. It’s a sort of mutualism, a dependency, a bond forged in the sudden knowledge of the other, of being two in the same broken self-isolation. There’s a heavy feeling, as if you’re the only ones stranded on a desert island; as if you’re the last two survivors following total apocalypse; two people in a frozen, barren, monotone wasteland, huddling together for warmth, for survival.

“I hate this.”

“Me, too.”

“It fucking sucks.”

You sigh against him. “Yeah,” you agree quietly, “it does.”

When you wake the next morning, your head is pounding. Memories filter in as slowly as the light through the blinds, forming a path on the carpeted floor. You had gotten drunk with Bob—not drunk to where you were blackout, but drunk to where you both had extremely limited brain power.

Which is when you realize—your bedroom floor is hardwood. Not carpet. Right. You groan as your mind flashes back to after a few too many shots of tequila—it always messes with your decision-making abilities.

“Bobby.”

“Hm?”

“I jus- jus’ had the greatest idea. Like, of all ever. Like, I’m a fu-” You pause, hiccuping, “fucking genius.”

“What?”

“We,” you gesture to the both of you, Bob in a very similar state to you. “Should fuck. Y’know, we’re both heartbroken, we both wanna get laid, problem solved.”

“Tha-” He stands, almost falling off of his bad stool in the process. You two giggle together at his mishap, the man quickly righting himself. “That’s genius.”

Which is how you’re here now. Thankfully, you two had had the wherewithal to take a cab to Bob’s place, and apparently made good on your decision, if the ache between your legs is anything to go by. And the dried-on-

You decide to not waste time on it and just shower. Passing by a mirror, you note the marks on you. Jesus, Bobby. Last night wasn’t great by any means—you were both incredibly drunk; there were, inevitably, a lot of coordination struggles. Yet he made you finish—more than what you can say for a lot of people—so you can’t help but wonder what he’s like sober.

You’re pleasantly surprised to see that Bob isn’t the kind of guy to have three-in-one shampoo. Sure, you’re stuck with men’s shampoo and body wash, but you make do; there’s not really an option to not.

A knock sounds at the bathroom door. “Y/n?”

“Yes?”

“Just checking. Is it okay if I brush my teeth while you shower?”

So sweet. “Sure thing.” Which reminds you… “Sorry about not asking.”

“No, no, it’s fine. Mi casa es su casa ‘n all that.”

“Thank you.” You hesitate, then add, “You don’t have to wait to shower. We’ve already seen each other naked,” you joke, to lighten the heaviness of your offer.

There’s silence for a moment, and you know Bob is processing, shocked. Then, shuffling, and cold air hits you as the door is pulled back. Bob is one of the lucky ones—he has a house on base instead of a dorm, which comes with its own bathroom. More than one.

You shiver, goosebumps erupting across your skin at the sudden change in temperature. You pass Bob the shampoo as you grab the body wash, wincing when you note your handiwork.

“Sorry.”

His grin doesn’t reach his eyes. “I did worse.”

You shrug it off, an attempt at comfort. “It’s fine, really.”

“If you’re sure.” You know it’s a deflection, but don’t know how to approach it. So you don’t.

“Want some help?” He offers as you struggle to get all of the places on your back.

“Yes, please.” You turn, rinsing your hands of the wash before balling up your shampooed hair so it won’t touch it, allowing Bob access to your back.

His touch is gentle, light, as he rubs it in, pressure growing as he massages your skin. You let out a soft moan at the feel, tension releasing, causing his movements to stutter but not stop. Once finished, he steps away.

Dropping your hair, you let the water run over you, miniature rivulets across your skin as you tilt your head back, eyes closed. “Want me to do you?”

He nods slowly, hesitantly. You’re gentle in your ministrations, treading lightly over the scratches on his marked-up back. “Hey.” Your voice is gentle as you turn him back to you, moving your hands to cup his face as you gaze at him with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” His attempt at a reassuring smile falls flat.

“Bob, seriously.” Your hand runs up to play with his hair. “What’s wrong?”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard, droplets of water forming on his lashes that are decidedly not from the shower currently cascading over your back. “It’s…” He trails off, but further speech is unnecessary as it clicks into place.

“Oh, Bob.” In an instant, you’ve pulled him into a tight embrace, one arm rubbing comfortingly along his back while the other cups the back of his head, cradling it gently and bringing it to rest on the crook of your neck. His body shakes against yours with the force of his sobs. Last night, he had held you as you cried in his bed, the sting of unrequited love washing over you as surely as the water from the spout does. Now, it’s your turn to do the same, holding him close and lending what little you have as comfort through the waves of loss and pain.

Eventually, you’re both drying off together, and Bob finally speaks, having said less than a word since the shower.

“It hurts.”

“I know.”

“I hate living like this.”

“I know.” And you do. You do know. You know what it’s like to watch the person you love be happy with someone other than yourself, to have the internal war of he’s so happy, be happy for him versus but he could be happy with me.

You know.

Somehow, your one-time tryst turns into a thing. Most nights, you’re either at Bob’s house, or he’s at your dorm. You two usually tend towards the former; there’s far more privacy when you’re not sharing a hallway with a bunch of your coworkers.

And you were right—he’s fucking amazing sober. You by no means expected Bob to be this good.

You two don’t label it. In your minds, you’re just friends; if you had to put a name on it, you’d both say something along the lines of ‘fuck buddies’. As it is, though, your friendship is platonic. In these stolen midnight moments of seclusion is found a sort of mutualistic comfort, two lost souls grasping at straws to avoid being fully enveloped in the soul-sucking black hole of the agony of unrequited love, two twin thin threads tethering themselves together in an attempt at survival.

Soon, the veiled, darkened gentleness begins to come out into the light. Moments between flights, sitting on the tarmac together after a set of push-ups, knees to your chest as the sun begins its burning descent. Then, this tentatively budding friendship between you grows bolder, more courageous, spreading; appearing in your passings in the afternoon sky, sun riding high; in the morning brightness, sitting together in the rec room and lazily listening to the flights of the others; at noon when the sun is at its apex and the two of you eat lunch together. It’s a new familiarity that you grab onto with everything you have, clinging for dear life to this one thing as Bradley spends more of his time with Jake. Phoenix and Halo tend to hang out more and more as well, so the both of you are left alone to find solace and camaraderie from each other, mutually abandoned.

And so, the darkness slowly fades to light. The sun that set on your friendship with Bradley as he and Jake become Rooster-and-Hangman, a unit, not two separate beings, slowly dawns with Bob by your side.

And yet you cling to the night.

It’s subconscious, really; not a matter of thought. Yet, as much as you push against the current, you’re swept out, pulled deeper into the riptide until you’ve forgotten what it was like to not be. Holding on to and throwing away in equal measure, a yo-yo of emotion as you’re tossed to and fro like a football in the hands of a group of middle school boys.

You’re a pendulum, swinging back and forth from height to height; the human Newton’s Cradle. And you don’t know how to get yourself stop moving.

You feel the bed shift as Bob rejoins you, pulling you flush with his chest as your legs tangle together. He spoons you from behind, tracing your arm lightly while gently kissing the parts of your jaw and neck to which he has access.

“If you don’t stop that we’re not getting any sleep,” you grumble, not opening your eyes.

You can feel the reverberations of his chuckles through your back, the man pausing in his ministrations. “Sorry,” he responds, not apologetic in the slightest. He resumes the path of his fingers, up and down, trailing across your arm with a feather-light touch.

You two lay there in silence, the only sound that of breathing as you’re lost in your minds, separate, miles away, despite the physical closeness. Finally, Bob breaks the silence, quietly, tentatively.

“Hey.”

“Hmm?”

“What is,” he pauses, subconsciously running his tongue over his lips to wet them as he tries and fails to come up with a better way to say what he means, “…this?”

Confused, you shift your body so that your head can turn easily and meet his eyes. “What is what?”

“This.” He gestures between you two. “Us.”

A cold, sinking feeling forms in the bottom of your stomach. No. Please, no. You decide to play dumb, opting for humor. “We’re friends who fuck. Fuck friends.”

He shakes his head, scoffing as his eyes meet the ceiling. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Unfortunately, you do.

Unsatisfied with your silence, Bob presses the subject. “Y/n. Please.”

“Just stop, okay?” You grumble, shifting your body to face away from him.

He sighs. Shuffling is heard, and then he’s resting his head by the crook of your neck. “Just… talk to me?”

“Please,” you beg. Your eyes trace the outlines of the blinds over the windows, one after the other. When he doesn’t move, you move yourself. It’s… easier. To speak when you can’t see the target, to think when he’s not taking up every crevice of your physicality and mind.

Finally, you begin speaking, words weighted carefully until they begin tumbling from you without inspection. “You’re… a good guy, Robert.” The rare usage of his given name is a glimmer of how serious you are in the moment. “You deserve better. You deserve someone who can love you completely. Fully. Be completely, utterly in love and devoted. And I…” you hesitate, swallowing hard. “I can’t do that.”

“You think I deserve better.” His voice is rough as he repeats the phrase, a question phrased as a statement.

You nod your confirmation, feeling his eyes burning into the back of your head.

“Y/n… you are better. Better than I deserve.”

“That is categorically untrue, Bob.”

“See,” he chuckles with no humor, “that’s the thing.” He rolls over, and is hovering above you suddenly, resting his arms on either side of your head as he pushes himself up above you. Instinctively, you shift to lie flat on your back, gazing up into his intensely blue eyes. “You seem to think that just because Rooster was too blind to see everything amazing about you, that that means that it’s not there. Not that no one will, but that you imagined it. And that? That’s what’s ‘categorically untrue’. You deserve someone who loves you fully, completely, unfetteredly.”

“And you’re not the same?”

He chuckles with no humor. “Maybe. Probably. I just… with everything else going on, I don’t have the energy to care. If we can have something good, I can’t spend so much time on how what’s good can go bad. You have to take it sometimes. And… what you said goes both ways. I don’t know if I’d ever fully be able to give you my heart—Jake might have too much that I’ll never get back. But… I think that the possible good outweighs what can go bad. I think it’s worth it to at least try.”

“What happens when it doesn’t work? When we inevitably lose each other? You’re all I’ve got left, Bobby, I can’t.”

He scoffs, dropping back to your side and staring up at the ceiling. “That’s bullshit. We can’t lose each other just as easily with this? I mean, what’s the difference? We’re practically dating already, Mercury. Wake the fuck up.”

“We’re not!” You explode, sitting up in bed and hugging the sheets to you for comfort. “We’re not! We’re friends. There’s a difference.”

“If I go down tomorrow, you’re telling me it’s not going to hurt the same way it would if we were dating?”

That’s not what I meant, you want to say, followed by, yes. But your tongue tangles, ties, lips stalling, either unwilling or incapable of movement for anything other than what comes out. “No.”

“Christ,” Bob murmurs, more to himself than you as he runs a hand through his hair. “See, this right now? You’re pushing me away.” His voice turns desperate as he shifts to look at you, hand falling away. “Please, just stay. Stay with me. Everything else has gone to shit, can’t we just have this?”

“Bob…” You can’t. You can’t do this. So, you say as much. “I-” you glance away, at where your fingers fiddle with a thread falling from the hemline of your shirt. “I can’t.”

His voice drops, softening, as gentle as a light caress. “Do you want this?”

“This?” You hesitate. “Yes. Do I want the inevitable fallout?” You glance back, meeting his eyes once more as your breathing quickens. “No. I can’t handle that. I can’t handle not being enough, not being what you deserve, not-”

“Hey.” He reaches a hand up to cup your cheek. “Deep breaths.” Exaggerating his own, he waits until you’re back to normal before continuing. “Are you willing to deal with me not being enough? Not being able to give you all of me, give you everything you should have?”

“Of course. I mean, I object to the premise-”

“Then why wouldn’t I?”

His words are like the eye of the storm, the moment of calmness at the center of the whirlwind. They still you, slamming on the breaks of your brain so fast that you get whiplash, coming to a stop. You lay there for a moment, eyes and mind distant, Bob’s hand tracing it’s way down your cheekfacejawneckshoulderarm.

Finally, he breaks the silence, voice even and easy as he brings you back to earth. “Are you willing?”

“Always.” The answer is quick but unsure, the emotion in it a dead give away of vulnerability. You try to mask it but don’t have a chance before Bob has pushed himself up, the gentleness in his touch simultaneously directly in line with and directly in contrast with the kiss that he <plants> on you.

He pulls away gently, resting his forehead on yours. “Thank you.” The words are whispered but an olive branch, a trade off to the peek behind your mask.

Your hand comes up to brush away a tear that slips from his eyes, resting on his cheek. A bleary smile, and you respond, “Always.” Which, much to your pleasant surprise, turned out to be true.

Always.

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391 notes View Post

theodorereaken

2 years ago

Dylan O'Brien dancing with the Knicks Dancers during the New York Knicks vs. Phoenix Suns basketball game at the Madison Square Garden in New York. (January 2, 2023)

🎥©: knickscitydancers on TikTok

btw it was Dylan’s idea to do a dance. :)

946 notes View Post

theodorereaken

2 years ago

Baby On Board- B.Floyd

pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x wife!reader word count: 6k (its a long one) type: angst warnings: top gun shit, child birth, near death experiences, cursing. synopsis: being placed on a top secret mission weeks before his wife's due date was not what Lt. Floyd had imagined married life would be like.

note: thank you so much for 600! it's crazy how much this blog has grown in such little time! keep sending in requests!

She was his highschool sweetheart. From the moment Bob laid eyes on Y/N their freshman year of highschool, even with braces and acne and a ridiculous haircut, he knew that she was going to be his wife. She was perfect, smart, popular, kind to everyone and he was. . . well he was just Bob. A dork, a nerd, sweet and kind and too pure for this world. He could remember how badly he was sweating and shaking as he approached her lunch table, some cheesy valentine’s day card in his hand and asked her to the school dance. He thought he would get laughed at, but his heart filled with even more love as she pulled out a valentine of her own to give to him.

Bob had shocked everyone when he decided to go into the navy, including Y/N. They had talked about their futures, and Bob had briefly mentioned going into the navy, but he wasn't certain. So when he came home and told her he enlisted, she was shocked but proud of him. Her heart broke when he left for boot camp, and would wait by the phone or mailbox for a call or letter from him. When he came home with a buzzed cut, a bouquet of flowers and a ring, they both knew they didn’t want to be apart from each other. They got married in a small ceremony in his parents backyard, it was like a fairytale for both of them.

Both Bob and Y/N had agreed that they wanted kids. They weren’t ever too keen on actively trying for kids, but they weren’t doing anything to actively prevent it either. At first, they were going to let nature do its thing, agreeing that it’ll happen when it happens. But after two years of nothing, they knew that it was time for some intervention. It broke Bob’s heart when the doctor told them it was going to be nearly impossible for them to have a baby of their own. He watched as the light in her eyes diminished. She told him that she was okay, that it would be fine, but Bob could hear her crying in the bathroom when she thought he was asleep.

Bob stood by her side though, never leaving her. He held her hand in doctors appointments, when they had decided on doing hormonal treatments, Bob was always on track with timing, and keeping track of everything. When he noticed that her body had started to change, and her mood was different and her period was late, he went out and bought every kind of pregnancy test there was to get. He sat by her side on the bed as they waited for the timer to go off, and was the first to look at the results.

Seven months later, Bob and Y/N were glaring at each other from across the kitchen. Her belly had popped some weeks ago, and she was now supporting a nice round bump. She looked on the verge of tears as Bob had explained the document that was sitting in between the two of them. He was being called back to TOPGUN, something that he never thought would happen. The first time around, they had been married for only about a year, and Bob was excited to be chosen to go. He got permission to take his wife with him, and that was all he needed. Now, things have changed.

Y/N was not thrilled at all about Bob being called back. There was no other information on the document other than time and place to be. They had arranged on base housing for the both of them, but they both knew that Y/N couldn’t leave Lemoore. It wasn’t a good idea for her to be far away from her doctor, not when time was ticking away closer to her due date.

“Why can’t they send someone else?” Y/N asked, running a hand through her hair, “Can you tell them I’m pregnant?”

“Did,” Bob sighed, “Technically the baby isn’t born yet so I don’t get any sort of paternity leave. I would still only get 21 days anyway.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, of course he didn't, “There’s nothing you can do?”

“It’s non negotiable. You can come with-”

“Come with!? Bob, look at me, I’m the size of a water buffalo-“

“No you’re not-“

“Shut up,” Y/N said, getting angry. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes and turned on her heel and left the kitchen in tears. Bob sighed, knowing the majority of this was caused by pregnancy hormones but it still didn’t make it any easier. He knew that there was a possibility of him getting a last minute deployment or special detachment, like this one, that could take him away from Y/N and his unborn child. He just didn’t think it would ever come true. Bob grabbed the sheet of paper and read it over again. Doing the math in his head, he should be back in time before Y/N has their baby, but it still didn’t bring him any comfort.

He pushed himself from his spot, walking to the freezer to get an orange crush popsicle for Y/N, and then walked down the hall. He found her sitting on their shared bed, looking out the window. Bob sat down next to her and offered her the popsicle.

“Thanks,” She murmured.

“I know it’s not ideal-”

“No, it’s not,” Y/N sniffled as she opened up her popsicle.

“You could come with. . .”

“Bob, I’m seven months pregnant. I don’t think it would be a good idea.”

“It’s also not a good idea to have you here alone either,” Bob said and Y/N sighed, “At least, if you’re in Miramar with me, I’d be there in a matter of minutes if something happened,” He grabbed her free hand and intertwined their fingers, “Up here, yeah we are alone, but you’ll be even more alone if something happened and I’m seven hours away. It would bring peace of mind to me, if you came with me.”

“Well,” Y/N sighed, “Looks like we’re both going back to TOPGUN.”

Bob smiled and leaned in to kiss her cheek, and then slid off the bed to kneel in front of her, both hands going to her growing belly. It always made her giggle at how Bob’s large hands could cover her whole bump, but it also brought her a sense of security.

“You, my little one, can’t make any surprise appearances while we are there, you hear me? You stay right in here for the next six weeks and we won’t have an issue,” Bob said to her belly, and got a small kick in return, “I think they understood me,” He said looking up at you with his lopsided grin.

“I’m sure they did.”

— — —

It was almost too hot to do anything, even by the ocean in Miramar. Y/N had told herself when she got pregnant, she didn’t want to be pregnant during the hot months, but living in California, it was always hot. The drive down had been awful, having to stop almost every hour so she could pee, or being constantly uncomfortable. Bob felt bad, knowing that she was only doing this for him, but he let her complain as much as she wanted to. Bob had heard that everyone was gathering at the Hard Deck, a local bar that he and Y/N had frequented the first time around at TOPGUN. Y/N had opted not to go with him, as she wanted to just stay in the air conditioning of their tiny on base house.

Y/N had done what she could to make herself comfortable while being in Miramar. She went grocery shopping, to the beach a couple times, met with one of the OB’s on base (which Bob had gotten out of training early to do), but for the most part she kept a low profile, trying to stay as cool as she possibly could in the southern california heat. Her favorite part of the day was when Bob would come home, and lay his head in her lap and tell their child all about his day. His eyes always lit up as he talked about the simulations and the dogfighting. He would get so animated about it, it was adorable.

Y/N knew bits and pieces about the mission. She knew it was dangerous, that there was a lot at stake. Bob didn’t want to worry her too much at this stage in her pregnancy, but she had kind of gathered that them all being called back meant that it was serious. She tried not to think of a world where Bob Floyd wasn’t alive and she hated it. But Bob reassured her as much as he possibly could that he would make it back to her.

The team didn’t know much about Robert Floyd, other than he was a WSO and Phoenix’s back seater. He was quiet, kept to himself, and would speed off after showering at the end of the day. Phoenix had tried to pry some information out of him, but got nothing more than his full name, where he was from, and where he was currently stationed. Bob didn’t talk much about himself, and Phoenix kind of liked that. He was different from the usual cocky, arrogant (hangman) pilots she was used to working with.

“So Bob, what do you plan on doing when you get out of here?” Phoenix had asked him, as they were headed to the trial run zone. It was day four of doing the trial course, and no one had successfully completed it.

“I bet he is going to have himself a cold glass of ice water,” Coyote joked and Bob rolled his eyes.

“Oh shut it,” Phoenix laughed, “I bet he’ll go home and watch the office or something.”

“I prefer ‘friends’ over the office,” Bob said, thinking of his wife’s favorite show.

“Alright, dagger 1 easing in, time starting in 3, 2, 1,” Phoenix said as she started into the simulation.

Bob looked down at his radar, watching as Phoenix and Coyote made the twists and turns of the simulation, feeling his body jostle from side to side. It never got easier, the more that they ran the course, it seemed to somehow get worse. His body felt heavier, his lungs felt like they would explode. He would find bruises on his sides from hitting the side of the cockpit at such forces. Bob eyed their time, seeing that they were keeping up a good speed, until he caught another plane on the radar.

“Oh no, it’s Maverick!” Bob said.

“What?! Where is he!?” Phoenix called out, and Bob looked around the clear canopy into the sky, trying to see if he could spot Maverick.

“Lost him in the sun!” Bob called out, “Coyote, you see him!?”

“Man, he’s on my tail,” Coyote said, “Line it up, Bob.”

“Roger!” Bob said, controlling his laser to line up the shot, except he couldn’t get control of it. He swore under his breath as he tried but it was no use, “Dead eye! I can’t get it to lock!”

“Dropping in blind then,” Coyote said, and tried to line up the laser the best he could.

Bob could feel when Phoenix shifted the trajectory of the jet, sending them into a steep incline upward. Bob fought against the Gs being pushed on his body as he tried to keep his eyes open and himself conscious. Maverick had somehow shown back up, and stimulated a dogfight with them, until they realized they had lost comms with Coyote. He had gone into g-loc, and Maverick moved quickly to line up a shot, sending a loud buzzing sound into his cockpit. Bob took a sigh in relief as they got Coyote back, but the relief was short-lived when Maverick called out the bird strike.

“We’re on fire!” Bob called out, looking to see the left engine ablaze.

“Extinguishing!” Phoenix said, flipping a switch, “Lost hydraulics, losing altitude, I-I can’t control it!”

“Right engine on fire! We’re gonna burn in!” Bob’s voice was filled with panic, as he felt their jet start to drop from the sky.

“You have to eject!” Maverick called, “Phoenix, Bob! Eject, eject, eject!”

“Fuck! Eject, eject, eject!” Phoenix yelled out, as she hit the button to eject both of them. Bob covered his head as the canopy shot off, and he felt himself get pushed out of the cockpit. The next thing he felt was his feet hitting the ground.

— — —

The last thing any military wife ever wants is a call from the hospital saying that their husband had been injured. When Y/N arrived at the hospital, frantic with tears in her eyes, a nurse had guided her down to the room her husband was in. She felt the confused looks and stares of the aviators in the hallway as she passed by them on the way to Bob’s room. She had even heard one of them ask who she was and another say they didn’t know. Bob was busy flipping through the tv channels when she got to his room, he looked over at her and smiled weakly.

“Hey baby,” Bob said and Y/N rushed to his side, as Bob engulfed her in a hug, “Shh, I’m okay, I’m okay.” He soothed her, while rubbing her back as she cried as she sat on his bed.

“Jesus Christ Robert, don’t ever scare me like that again,” Y/N said, pulling away from him, and wiping her tears, “What the hell happened?”

“Bird Strike, lost control of the jet, had to eject. Nothing but a couple bruises and a sore tailbone,” Bob smiled, and Y/N shook her head, “Are you okay?”

“You’re asking me that?”

“You’re the pregnant one.”

“You’re the one who just ejected from a plane at 500 feet in the air.”

“Touche,” Bob said, as there was a knock on the door. Y/N turned her head to see a brunette woman peeking her head in with a shy smile on her face.

“The guys said you had company, I hope you don’t mind me coming to check on you?” The woman said, looking between the two of her.

Bob looked at you and you smiled, “No, not at all,” He said, “This is Phoenix, the main driver,” Bob said introducing the two of them, “Phoenix this is my wife, Y/N.”

“Oh- wow, Bob never-”

“Stealth pilot,” Y/N smiled and held her hand out to greet Phoenix, “It’s nice to meet you. He’s told me all about you. You’re pretty cool from what it sounds like.”

“You flatter me,” Phoenix said with a slight blush, “How far along?”

“Eight months. Not exactly my ideal location to be in, but,” Y/N shrugged and Bob smiled, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her to sit back down on the bed, “How are you doing? I can’t imagine what it was like.”

“I’m okay, a little shaken up. I’m more concerned that Bob has hidden you away from us and made me suffer with the rest of the testosterone freaks out there.” Phoenix said and sat down in a chair by the bed.

Bob knew it was no use hiding Y/N from Phoenix, so he had told his pilot all about his wife, how they met, how he proposed, their wedding, their house, and even about their baby. Phoenix was surprised at how talkative Bob could be when he was talking about something he loved. She knew he could rattle off information about an F-18 and missiles and flight trajectory, but when it came to talking about his life, Phoenix was surprised. He had hardly let Y/N get a word in and Phoenix would laugh at how Y/N just looked at him.

Y/N would’ve liked it if Bob would’ve been able to stay home after having to eject from his plane, but the mission was still a go. It was only three days after the bird strike that he was packing his bags and headed to get on the carrier. Y/N had driven him to base, much to his dismay since he didn’t want her driving with her belly in the way. She tried to hide her tears as she put the car in park and looked at the daunting aircraft carrier.

“It’s only three days,” Bob said, looking at his hands, “Three days and-and I come home to you and our baby.” He placed his hand on her bump, feeling their little one move around.

“I know,” Y/N said, “Swear to God, if you don’t-”

“I will,” Bob said, cutting her off. He leaned over the console, holding her face in his hands and kissed her. It took her breath away, the type of kiss that is supposed to be a constant reminder. It left her lips tingling as he pulled back, “I’ll see you in three days.” Y/N nodded as Bob got out of the car. She saw Phoenix waiting next to her car and sent her a small smile and wave. Phoenix gave her a nod in response and hugged Bob.

Y/N let out a shaky breath as she watched the two of them walk towards the ship, “Three days little one, no sudden movement for three days.”

— — —

Y/N tried to keep herself distracted but she couldn’t help but stare at the clock, knowing that any second her husband’s plane would be taking off from the middle of the pacific ocean and would be flying towards a certain death. She knows that he promised to come home, but nothing is ever promised in this life. Y/N looked down at the hot mug of tea in front of her and felt a stray tear run down her cheek. She had gotten to the point in her pregnancy where she didn’t even know she was crying until the tear hit her shirt. She sniffled and placed her hand on her belly, just as she felt a cramping sensation.

“No. . .” She mumbled to herself and let out a shaky breath, “Please stop, don’t do this.” Y/N had been feeling contractions since Bob left. She knew that braxton hicks were common and had been feeling those since month seven, but now, these felt different. These felt stronger and she could feel her stomach dropping.

Y/N pushed herself away from the counter and slowly started making her way towards her bedroom. Laying down usually helped subside the contractions and the pelvic pain. Y/N paused as she felt the warmth of a liquid rushing down her legs as she stood in the hallway. She closed her eyes and clutched her stomach, hoping that maybe, just maybe this was all a dream and she had just peed herself in the hallway, rather than her water breaking. But when she opened her eyes at the feeling of a contraction, she knew it was very much real.

“No, no, no,” She felt tears in her eyes as she moved down the hallway towards the kitchen where she had left her phone. Her first instinct was to dial Bob’s number, which she did, but when it went straight to voicemail, she panicked even more. She gripped the counter as another contraction ripped through her body. This wasn’t supposed to be like this. This was not how this was supposed to happen. The next number she dialed was Penny’s, which the older woman had given to her after getting to know her at Iceman’s funeral.

“Hello?” Penny’s voice sounded through the receiver.

“Penny, I-I need your help,” Y/N’s voice cracked, “My water broke.”

“Oh my god,” Penny said, and Y/N could hear her get up and grab her keys, “Stay where you are, I am on my way. If you need to push, do it, don’t try and fight it.”

“I can’t have this baby alone!” Y/N cried.

“I know, I know, I’m on my way, just breathe okay,” Penny said and Y/N nodded.

Penny arrived after a short time, and helped Y/N get to the on base hospital. They had admitted her right away, and Y/N was thankful that Penny had decided to stay by her side. Penny had once been in Y/N’s shoes. Her now ex-husband had been on deployment when Amelia was born, and Penny was by herself in the delivery room, no family, no friends, just her and the nurses and doctor. Penny wasn’t going to leave Y/N alone, knowing very well she would’ve wanted someone to stay with her.

“Breathe through it, there ya go,” Penny said as she dabbed at the sweat collecting on Y/N’s forehead, “I left a message for Maverick and Hondo. I called in a favor from an old friend to hopefully contact the ship and get a message to Admiral Simpson.”

“I can’t have this baby without him,” Y/N cried, out of pure exhaustion. Even though her water broke, she was still going on hour eight of labor, waiting for her cervix to dilate and the baby to drop down even more. The nurses all shared a look, and Penny could read their faces. She had heard them say something to the doctor about being worried about maternal exhaustion.

“I know you don’t, but you might have to,” Penny said, and Y/N shook her head as another contraction hit. Y/N groaned in pain as she gripped the side rail, her knuckles turning white. Penny grabbed the white bucket next to her and placed it in front of her incase Y/N was sick again.

When Y/N felt her body relax, she let out a small cry and leaned back against the bed. Penny had hoped that the call she put in with her father would somehow reach the ship. She wished that Iceman was still alive, knowing he’d stop at nothing to get Bob from the ship and straight to the hospital. But all Penny could do was hold Y/N’s hand and wipe the sweat from her forehead. Y/N’s mind was wandering as she thought of the mission Bob was on, and prayed that he was alive and not dead somewhere in a European mountain range.

— — —

Life or death, Bob had seen the flash of death right in front of his eyes as Phoenix had navigated them through Coffin Corner. He felt his heart sink when he watched Maverick’s plane get shot down, and he felt like his heart stopped hearing Rooster go down too. Bob did what he could to comfort Phoenix as they flew back to the ship, placing a hand on her shoulder, which she shrugged off. They hadn’t been on the carrier long, when they heard that Rooster’s beacon had been turned back on, and Hangman had been instructed to go on the flight mission to bring them back.

The second Maverick buzzed by the tower, the tarmac broke out in cheer, as he landed and both of them had a large smile on their faces. Bob and Phoenix rushed over to Rooster, hugging him tightly. Bob had a bright smile on his face as he celebrated with his team.

“Lt Floyd!?” A voice called out for him. Bob turned around to see Admiral Simpson running towards him.

“Yes sir?” Bob asked, his heart racing slightly.

“You need to come with us right away, it’s a family emergency.”

Bob felt light headed as the Admiral’s words hit his ears. Bob had just escaped death with his team and now he felt a sudden rush of doom. Fanboy and Payback shared a look, confused on what the admiral had just said. As far as anyone knew, Bob didn’t have any family, Bob was a lone ranger. But the look on Phoenix’s face said otherwise.

“Go!” Phoenix said, pushing him towards the admiral. Bob stumbled on his feet but took off sprinting, trying not to let his mind go to the worse case scenario. Phoenix looked over her shoulder and noticed her fellow aviators looking at her confused, and sighed, “He’s married, and has a wife, who’s very pregnant.”

Hondo was waiting for Bob when he entered the tower, and relayed the information he had gathered from Admiral Bates. Bob couldn’t digest most of it, but what he gathered was that his wife was in labor and he was stuck on an aircraft carrier in the middle of nowhere after almost dying. Hondo directed him to the admiral’s office where they gave Bob some privacy to call his wife. Bob sat down in the chair, his hands shaking as he picked up the phone and dialed her number, something he memorized.

“Bob, thank god,” Penny answered.

“H-hey Penny, how is she?” Bob asked, trying to bite back tears.

“She’s getting checked by the nurses right now, I stepped out when I saw you call. She’s,” Penny sighed and looked down at her shoes, “They are worried about maternal exhaustion. She’s in hour 12 of labor, eight centimeters dilated and trying to fight it. She says she won’t do this without you.”

“She has too,” Bob said, feeling a tear run down his cheek, “She has to do this. And I swear to god, she will never have to do this alone again. I need to talk to her.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Penny said, and walked back into the room. Her heart broke seeing Y/N in such pain as she laid on her side. The nurse gave Penny a look, and she nodded, “Y/N, it’s Bob. I’m putting him on speaker.”

“Oh my god, Bob?” Y/N asked, her voice wavering in pain. Bob felt his heart break as he bit back a sob. He buried his face into his flight suit before speaking up.

“Hi babe,” Bob said, “This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.”

“No, not at all,” She sniffed, “God, why can’t you be here. Why now? They’ve been stubborn this whole time, but now?”

“I know,” He laughed, “But love, you have to stop trying to fight it, okay, you need to let them help you. It’ll only make things harder for you, for the baby.”

“Bob, I can’t do it,” Y/N protested and closed her eyes, feeling a contraction. Bob heard her suck in a breath and let out a whimper in pain. Penny grabbed her hand and helped her breathe through it. Bob wished so badly he could be there with her, all he ever wanted to do was be a father and he is completely missing it.

“She’s at ten,” A nurse said, “She keeps putting it off, she won’t be able to push.”

“Baby, you need to listen to them,” Bob said, sitting up straighter in his seat, “You need to do this okay. I’m right here, Penny is there. You need to bring our baby into the world.”

“No!” Y/N sobbed and Penny felt tears in her own eyes, “No! I won’t! I want to go home, let me go home!”

“You’re elevating your heart rate, Y/N,” Her nurse said, walking over to the bed and looking at the EEG reading, “If this continues we’ll have to do a c-section. Y/N, it’s time to push.”

Bob felt his heart stop. That was the absolutely last thing he wanted her to have to do. It was bad enough she was in labor by herself, he didn’t want to have her go under the knife alone. The nurses and the midwife started to move around, getting everything set up for delivery. Penny helped Y/N get to her back and sit up in the bed. The midwife put Y/N’s feet in the stirrups.

“Y/N, listen to me,” Bob said sternly, “You have to listen to them, you have to push, okay. I’m right here, I’m doing the best I possibly can.”

“This isn’t fucking fair,” Y/N cried, and gripped Penny and the nurse’s hand as she felt a contraction and what felt like the baby’s head dropping lower in her birth canal.

“I know,” Bob answered, “But you can do it okay, listen to the doctors.” Y/N nodded and Penny wiped her forehead.

The midwife looked up at Y/N and gave her a sad smile, “Alright, Y/N on the next contraction, I need you to push okay. You know your body better than any of us.”

Y/N nodded and let out a shaky breath. She felt the cramping of a contraction and sucked in a deep breath. When the contraction hit, she pushed, closing her eyes and letting out a groan. Bob closed his eyes, not being able to imagine the pain she was in. With every push that the midwife would count out, Y/N’s groans and cries got louder. He could tell as the time went on that she was getting more and more exhausted.

“Jesus Chrsit, I can’t do this,” Y/N said breathlessly as she leaned against the back of the bed.

“You’re so close, Y/N, I can see the baby’s head,” The midwife said, “Next one push as hard as you can.”

“You got this babe, come on,” Bob said. He heard the midwife tell her to push, “Come on sweetheart, push hard, you got this, come on love.”

“Crowning!” The midwife called out and Y/N let out a loud cry, “This is the hardest part, you are right here, you can do this. Give me a big push and bring this baby into the world.”

Y/N moved slightly, and beared down as she pushed hard, feeling a burning sensation as the baby’s head was pushed out of her birthing canal. She closed her eyes tightly, gripping on to Penny and the nurse’s hands for dear life. Bob was saying encouraging words but it was all drawn out as the pain subsided and Y/N felt her body relax.

“One more, give me one more,” The midwife said, “The hardest part is over, you can do it.”

“Bob,” Y/N’s voice shook.

“This is it, you can do it, bring our baby into the world.” Bob said.

She clenched her jaw tightly, she was surprised that she didn’t break her teeth as she pushed with all her might. It was like white hot pain, almost like breaking a bone, as she felt the baby being pulled from her womb. She let out a broken cry as she felt a weight being placed on her chest, a loud cry filling the room. Y/N’s hands went straight to the squirming newborn on her chest and looked down to see their big brown eyes. Her mind was so overclouded with stimulation that she couldn’t think of anything to say.

“It’s a girl!” She heard the midwife say and Y/N cried even harder.

Bob wasn’t fighting back tears anymore as he held his head in his hands and sobbed, hearing the cry of his daughter over the phone. This wasn’t how he expected the delivery of his rainbow baby to go. He always expected him to be right by his wife’s side, holding her hand, sitting behind her as she pushed, encouraging her, seeing his daughter the second she was brought into this world, being able to cut the cord. Instead, he was hearing her loud cries from the middle of the ocean.

“We’re going to weigh her and clean her up, then we’ll give her right back, okay,” The nurse said to Y/N. She was still so exhausted all she could do was nod, “Congrats momma, and you too, dad!”

Bob nodded, and wiped his tears, “I love you so much,” He cried out, his voice breaking.

“I love you too,” Y/N said.

“I’m going to let you go, okay, I promise, I will be there as soon as I get docked in Miramar. You need to sleep, you did so good, so good, I am so proud of you,” Bob said, knowing he was probably talking to her sleepy self.

“I love you, Bob,” Y/N said, “I’ll see you when you get here.”

They said their goodbyes and Bob hung up. He sat there with his head in hands for a bit longer, looking down at the ground. The events of the day started to hit him all at once, and the tears fell down his face uncontrollably. He couldn’t stop his body from shaking as he cried. He didn’t even notice Phoenix walked into the office. Phoenix’s mind went to the worst possible thing as she walked over to him, and placed her hand on his shoulder. Bob looked up at her, his brown eyes wet with tears.

“Bob-”

“I’m a dad,” He said, “I’m a fucking dad!”

“Oh my god!” Phoenix said, pulling Bob from his seat and hugged him. She pulled back from the hug and looked at him, “Is everything okay? Y/N? The baby?”

“A healthy little girl,” Bob smiled, “Y/N’s okay, the best she can be for having a baby on her own. But . . I’m a girl dad.”

— — —

She knew she had slept too long, even though she had been a mom for less than a day, she knew she still slept too long. Y/N groaned as she opened her eyes, squinting at the harsh light above her head. Her body was still sore, especially her lower region. Penny had been a godsend helping her through the night when she had to get up and pee or wanted to walk around. Y/N rubbed her eyes as she looked towards the small basnet that was placed by her bed, to find it empty. Her heart skipped a beat as she looked around the room frantically to hear the sweet voice she had been waiting to hear.

“Looks like Mom is up,” Bob said, walking over to his wife. Y/N’s heart settled back down as she saw the small bundle of blankets in his arms. He hadn’t even change18d bbout of his flight suit and it looked like he hadn’t slept in hours, but Bob still looked amazing, “You were sleeping and I didn’t want to wake you but the second I saw her I knew that I-”

“It’s okay,” She said, her voice still gravely from screaming during labor, “You’re here.”

“I’m here,” Bob said and sat down on her bed, “And you will never have to do that alone again, I promise.”

“Bob, I can’t ask you to give up what you love.”

“But I love this more,” Bob said, looking between his wife and his daughter.

“She looks like you,” Y/N said, “Those eyes are exactly like yours.” Bob smiled as his daughter opened her tired eyes, “She doesn’t have a name yet. I was waiting for you so we can name her.”

Bob studied his daughter. Names were something that the two of them had spent some time going back and forth on. Neither one was quite set on a certain name, agreeing that once they saw their child they would be able to know what their name should be. Bob ran his finger gently down her face as she yawned.

“Eleanor,” Bob said and looked at his wife, “Eleanor May Floyd.”

--- --- ---

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3K notes View Post

theodorereaken

2 years ago

mystic force prequel season abt leanbow's team in the magical realm. like. you agree.

74 notes View Post

theodorereaken

3 years ago

hiii! i don’t know if you have done this but can you do a hotch x reader where they get kidnapped by tobias instead of reid? xx

4 Months

Warning: Criminal Minds level violence, drugs, torture, rabid dogs

Word Count: 3562

a/n: I decided to switch up some of the specifics, just to make it a bit more fun to read. I hope you like it :) Also, we're pretending Rossi was there bc he is really the father of the group and it fit better than having Gideon 🤷‍♀️

Masterlist

Hiii! I Don’t Know If You Have Done This But Can You Do A Hotch X Reader Where They Get Kidnapped By

"JJ, we have to split up." You barely looked back at her, missing the nervous expression on her face as you ran toward the cornfield. "I'll take the field, you take the barn."

You slowed to a brisk walk as you neared the cornfield, raising your gun in front of you. You couldn't help but think about how pissed Hotch would be if he knew what you were doing.

You shook off the thought, knowing he would do the same if the roles were reversed.

Spotting movement, you moved farther into the corn, trying to spot any signs indicating which way Tobias went. A bent corn husk was the last thing you saw before the world went black.

"He's not a witness. He's the unsub." Hotch's eyes went wide as he realized you and JJ were there without backup. "Call JJ, now." He instructed Morgan, taking out his own phone to call you.

Hotch's eyes met Morgan's as both calls went unanswered. No words were exchanged as everyone ran out to the SUVS, putting on bulletproof vests as they went.

Hotch was nervously tapping the steering wheel the entire drive to Hankel's house. He couldn't stop replaying your last conversation.

"Y/N, you and JJ go talk to Hankel. Find out if he saw anything." Despite his stern expression, you could tell his eyes were smiling at you.

"Sure thing." You nodded, mouthing 'I love you' before turning to JJ.

That's it. He didn't even have the chance to mouth it back. JJ would've seen, and even though the team has theories about your relationship, you haven't confirmed anything yet.

He pulled into the driveway, running up to the house, gun out before anyone could stop him.

Prentiss followed Hotch, Morgan and Reid took the left, Rossi and a local cop took the right.

They tore through the house, clearing it with fierce determination, but came up empty.

"It's clear." Rossi called, joining Hotch and Prentiss in the living room. "Where are Morgan and Reid?"

Hotch spared a glance out the window, discovering the barn likely being cleared by the missing agents.

Everyone ran out of the house, arriving outside the barn just as Morgan and Reid lead a distressed JJ outside.

"What happened?" Hotch questioned, glancing over JJ's shoulder into the barn. Clearly you weren't there, but he needed to hope.

"We split up. Y/N went into the cornfield... I had- I had to shoot them." Her voice was detached, eyes glazed over.

"The dogs." Morgan clarified, leading JJ to a paramedic.

"Dammit. The house is clear. No sign of Y/N or Hankel." Hotch ran a hand through his hair, trying to clear his mind. The worry was nearly overpowering, but it wouldn't help find you.

The sheriff approached, removing his hat. "A deputy two towns over gave directions to a man matching Hankel's description. He's headed for a hunting lodge."

Morgan nodded to Prentiss. "We'll check it out."

Your head was pounding. A vile scent reached your nose, causing your eyes to flicker open. You flinched at the closeness of the man in front of you.

"Tobias..." The name slipped out in a whisper.

"They're not here. It's just me now." He stated, calmer than you would've expected.

"Who are you?" You asked, trying to portray a fake sense of calm.

"I'm Rafael." He pulled out a revolver, adding a single bullet to the six chambers.

"No. You don't have to do this." Your heart ached, fear gripping your body as he aimed the gun at you.

"It is my duty to enact God's will." He said, right before pulling the trigger.

Hotch pulled back into the driveway, leading Garcia into the house.

"His computer setup is in there. If there's even a hint of where they might've gone, I need you to find it." Hotch gestured to the back room.

Penelope nodded. Carrying her own computer bags, she followed Derek into the depths of the house.

"What've we got?" Hotch questioned those remaining around the table.

"He knew he could throw us off, pretend to be looking for a hunting lodge." Emily spoke quickly.

"We've got piles of information, journals, notebooks. We're still sifting through it all." JJ added, shirt still bloody from yesterday.

Just then, Reid rushed in from another room. "The walls in the bedroom, they are covered in the latin phrase 'honora patrem tuum', honor thy father."

"Garcia, look for anything you can find about his father." Hotch gave out orders, but his focus was elsewhere. What was happening to you?

"Over here!" Morgan called from outside.

The team ran around the house to see Morgan opening a cellar door. Nodding slightly, Hotch and Morgan made there way inside.

"Tobias Hankel, FBI." Morgan shouted, receiving no answer.

They quickly found the dead body of none other than Hankel's father. Even the new information did little to calm the worry brewing inside of Hotch.

"Confess your sins." He ordered.

"My sins? I don't have any sins." You did your best to hold back the tears, trying to figure out who you were talking to.

"Everyone has sins. Confess, and you will be forgiven." He stared you down, waiting for a response.

You simply shook your head, mouth slightly agape. The smell was getting to you. You couldn't think straight with the pain in your head.

"I- I don't know what-"

"YES YOU DO. CONFESS." He hit you, whipping your head to the left.

"Hotch, he took drugs to escape. Dilaudid cut with a psychedelic." Emily relayed the information her and JJ got from Tobias's sponsor.

"We've got something too. The dates in his journals don't add up. He was talking about his father as if he was alive months after he killed him."

"His father beat him, preached about sin." Emily replied, putting the pieces together alongside Hotch.

"Split personality. Profile the father. He could be the key to finding Y/N." Even just saying your name he felt his heart clench.

"Who are you?" You questioned him as soon as he walked through the door, trying to figure out who you were dealing with this time.

"Tobias." He moved about the cabin almost nervously.

"Who was here before?" You knew Rafael, but the other personality was a mystery.

"My father." Definitely the most violent. He was who you had to look out for. "I'm sorry if he hurt you."

Tobias looked over you newly forming bruises before pulling off his belt.

"No. No what are you doing?" You felt your heart rate increase as he wrapped the belt around your arm. You could barely register the words he was saying, something about escaping from the pain.

"Please. I don't want it. I'm fine." You begged, tears brimming your eyes. He ignored your pleas, injecting the drug into your bloodstream.

Despite how much you hated it, you felt the relief he was talking about. The pain was gone, even if just briefly. You thought about your time spent with Hotch. It didn't feel like long enough. You wanted more. You had so much you wanted to do with him.

"Aaron..." You mumbled his name between kisses. "They could see us." You did little to stop him, despite your words.

"We should tell them." He whispered against your mouth, holding you close. "They would be happy for us."

You sighed blissfully, forehead pressed against his. "Really? You know they've got a pool going to see when we'd finally get together. Who do you think had money on 4 months ago?" You laughed into his neck, pulling him closer.

"My bet's on Rossi. He knows us both too well." Aaron smiled, a full genuine smile.

"You're probably right, but just to make it interesting, I'm betting Reid. He's too observant not to have noticed." You squinted at the window, knowing Reid was staring at the closed blinds on the other side.

That earned a laugh, one you could feel in his chest pressed tightly to your own.

"I love you." He kissed your head, content to hold you for a little while longer.

"I love you too." You leaned ever farther into him. "We can tell them when we get back from this next case."

"Deal."

"Get in here!" Reid called from the computer room, pointing to a screen where you were being broadcast. You were handcuffed and tied to a chair, clearly beaten.

"Pick one to die." The voice of Tobias could be heard, despite him not being visible on the screen.

You shook your head, staring into the camera. You wanted to plead for Hotch to save you, but you knew it wouldn't be fair. He didn't need that on his conscience.

"Choose one, and I will free another."

You shook your head again, trying to think of a clue you could give the team. "I won't let you hunt them like a poacher."

"Now. Or I will kill them all." He threatened, lifting you from the ground.

"I'll pick who lives." You stuttered, breaths coming fast and short. "The right screen."

You were forced to watch as he turned off the camera, leaving the screens to show the heinous murders he was about to commit.

Suddenly, Rossi was talking to you through the screen. The sight of him nearly brought you to tears.

"Y/N. This isn't your fault. None of it. You can't blame yourself. We will find you, but I need you to be there when we do."

You knew exactly what he meant. You were already blaming yourself, despite Rossi's father like relationship with you, it was hard to believe him.

It did give you the strength to remember the team though. You needed to see them, all of them, again.

"He's back!" Morgan called everyone in to view the screens again.

"Confess your sins." They watched as he beat you.

You cried. You begged him to stop. You begged Tobias for help, but nothing worked.

Hotch felt his heart break even more with every word.

Suddenly, you were on the ground, still tied to the chair. You were seizing, Charles Hankel watching as it happened.

The screen went dark, causing Hotch to punch the desk.

"Dammit." He shouted. He didn't care if his worry was beginning to poke through the surface. He needed to find you and he needed to do it now.

"The timestamp." Emily's voice drew him out of his head. "There's only a few minutes between the time of death and when it was posted. He's got to be close to the crime scene."

Finally. Something that felt like progress.

They watched the screen as you appeared again.

"Choose one to die." It was Rafael this time.

"I can't. I can't do it." Your face betrayed every emotion you were feeling inside.

"Pick one." He stated again.

"Me. Kill me." You nearly begged.

"You said you weren't one of them. Your team has 7 other members. Choose one of them to die."

You shook your head, fear gripping you once again as he pulled out the revolver.

"Choose." He connected the gone to your forehead, resting it there.

"No." He pulled the trigger, watching as you flinched.

"Choose." You shook your head, tensing as he pulled the trigger again.

Hotch felt his heart in his stomach, internally begging you to just say a name. He couldn't watch you die, not like this.

"Choose." He pulled the trigger yet again at your silence.

"I won't do it." You held firm, knowing you had limited chances.

"Choose one to die."

You opened your mouth, panting as an idea came to you.

"I choose... Aaron Hotchner." Your heart ached even saying it, but you needed to give him a clue. "He's a classic narcissist. Thinks he's better than everyone. He'd go to his grave knowing he was wrong." You winced internally, trying not to give away your plan.

Hotch left the room, trying to understand your words. The two of you had just argued about the definition of classic narcissism.

"I think you're wrong." You laughed at his amused expression.

"Yeah? Or do you just like making me exasperated?" He questioned your motives, pulling you closer as you laid in bed together.

"Maybe a little bit of both." You shrugged, leaning up to kiss him. "Promise me something?" You asked, a nervous expression on your face.

"What?" He looked at you with so much concern, you felt your heart beat a little faster.

"If... If I die, you can't blame yourself." He opened his mouth to protest, but you kept going. "I know you Aaron. You'd take it to grave thinking it was your fault. I can't let you do that. Not when I know you blame yourself for Haley's death." You felt your heart break for him and the pain he had been through. "Promise me." You were nearly begging.

"I promise." He whispered, his throat tight at the idea of losing you.

He was brought back to the present by the sound of Rossi's voice.

"Hotch, you know Y/N didn't mean any of that." Rossi tried gently, unsure of how Hotch was coping with your situation.

"I'm not a narcissist. What's my worst quality?" He looked at the apprehensive looks everyone was giving him. "I'll start, I have no sense of humor."

He nodded along as his team listed his faults.

"None of you said I ever put myself above the team, because I don't. Y/N and I just argued about the definition of classic narcissism." He paced, trying to put it together. "I'd take it to my grave... Grave was a hint."

"What? How do you know?" Reid shook his head, trying to understand the logic.

"I made a promise. It's a long story." He shook his head, trying to clear the memory so he could focus. "Y/N knew I would remember it."

"A cemetary. It's got to be a cemetary." Morgan added.

"No cemeteries on the map." Garcia was typing away on the computer.

"Like a poacher." Reid whispered, staring at the screen.

"Reid?" Hotch looked at him, eyes pleading for an answer.

"That's what Y/N said in the first video. 'I won't let you hunt them like a poacher.'" He said it louder, more excited than before.

"Garcia, any reports of poaching in the area?" Hotch asked, the idea of finding you causing hope to erupt in his chest.

"Yes, at Marshall Parrish... and there's a cemetery on the grounds." She gave them the address, watching as they ran out to the SUVs.

"I'm sorry." Tobias said it so softly, you were almost certain you didn't hear it at all.

"Wh- why?" Your eyebrows pulled together in confusion, trying to make sense of it.

"He'll win. In the end, he always does." He rose from the crouched position, slowly injecting you with more drugs.

"Hotch!" You screamed, feeling arms restraining you from behind.

You watched as he went into the hostage situation, unarmed and without a vest.

"Derek. Let me go!" You struggled in his grasp, straining to get free.

"There's nothing you can do, he's already inside." He stated the truth, although it did little to calm your nerves.

You settled down, throat tight with worry. You bit your lip, eyes flitting between the door and windows. You just needed a sign, anything to say he was alright.

The sound of a gun firing stunned you. You were frozen in place, fear consuming you. You had just told him you loved him for the first time this morning. What if you never get to say it again? What if that's all the time you got.

You stared in horror as everyone ran toward the house, only to freeze when a voice shouted everything was fine.

"It's fine." He huffed, carrying the small child out of the house toward a waiting EMT. "Baxter is dead."

"Aaron..." You whispered the name, realizing how powerless you felt when he was in danger. The two of you made eye contact across the yard, a reassuring look in his eye.

"Aaron..." You whispered, blinking rapidly as you slowly came to.

"What about Aaron." Charles. Tobias's dad was back.

"I couldn't stop him. I couldn't keep him safe." You muttered to yourself, not fully understanding the situation.

"Is that a confession?" He asked, voice hard.

"Yes." It was more of a breath of air than a word, but it was all he needed to condemn you.

He unlocked your handcuffs, forcing a shovel into your newly freed arms before dragging you outside.

"Dig." he instructed plainly, watching over you as stray tears wet the ground beneath you.

"Clear." Morgan called from one side of the shed.

"Clear" Hotch replied from the other. With the whole team in the small space, it wasn't exactly necessary but it was habit.

Hotch could feel his nerves picking up again as he realized this meant you were still with Tobias. He paced back and forth, feeling powerless.

"Spread out. They have to be on foot." He left without waiting for a response, turning left with JJ to look for you.

You did your best to stall, but Charles wasn't the most patient.

"Dig faster."

"I'm trying. I'm trying." You whimpered, movements speeding up ever so slightly. The massive knife in his hands causing your own to shake.

"You're weak. Move." He huffed, throwing his jacket to the ground before ripping the shovel from your hands.

A flash of light in the trees caught your eye. Flashlights. Your team. Aaron.

Your eyes flickered between the man in front of you and the trees, causing him to turn.

You took the split second he wasn't looking to grab the gun from his jacket, swiftly aiming it as he turned back to you knife raised.

"Only one bullet in that gun." He lunged for you, falling backwards after you pulled the trigger.

You dropped the gun, quickly tossing the knife away.

"Tobias?" You cried, moving back toward him.

"You killed me." He seemed surprised, but grateful at the same time.

You felt the tears pouring down your face as you apologized.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry." You grabbed his hand, watching the light fade from his eyes as he asked one final question.

"You think I'll get to see my mom again?"

You barely registered the arms around you, pulling you to your feet. You couldn't take your eyes off of Tobias. He wasn't the one who hurt you. He helped you, or at least tried.

"I killed him." Your breathing picked up, vision blurring.

"Y/N, look at me." You turned to the voice, blinking rapidly to stop the tears.

"Aaron?" You took a stuttering breath, trying to make sure this was real.

"I'm here. It's okay. You're okay. You're safe now." His words were just as reassuring to himself as they were to you. You caught JJ's eye over Hotch's shoulder, quickly moving to hug her.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry. I never should've-" You cut her off.

"None of this was your fault. It was my idea to split up. I'm so sorry." You cried into her shoulder, knowing how guilty she must've felt.

She hugged you back, tears brimming her own eyes at seeing you alive again.

She lead you to the EMT, not commenting on the look you threw over your shoulder at Aaron. He quickly followed you to the ambulance. JJ left you to talk to Hotch, who stayed beside you the entire time the medics looked you over.

"I didn't mean it." You said when you were finally alone, sitting between the open doors of the ambulance.

"What?" Aaron questioned, his mind not following your own train of thought.

"When... When I had to choose. I didn't mean any of it." You could feel the tears coming, but this time you did nothing to hold them back.

"I know. I knew the whole time." You brushed your tears away, looking you in the eye. "I love you so much." He whispered, his own eyes feeling watery.

"I love you too." You leaned into him, relishing in the feeling of his arm around you. You couldn't help but look over at the team, all of whom quickly pretended not to be watching. You huffed a laugh.

"Yeah, I think they're going to have some questions." Hotch smiled, glad to see you happy even if just for a second.

"After this case, right?" You looked back at him, confirming you still wanted to share your relationship with the team.

"Deal." He smiled, arm tightening around your shoulders to pull you closer.

You couldn't help but bring it up on the jet ride home.

"So, who had money on four months ago?" You questioned, tucked into Aaron's side on the couch.

"What?" Emily raised a brow at your sudden statement.

"That's when we started dating." You grinned at her shocked expression.

"Dammit Reid." Morgan huffed, handing over the money.

"Don't forget Rossi!" Reid high fived the older man, the two grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

"Looks like we were both right." Hotch smiled into your hair, trying to hide his laugh.

"Yeah. We make a pretty good team." You smiled, leaning into his touch.

"I love you." He murmured, face still in your hair. You turned your face into his chest before responding.