─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
CHAPTER EIGHT:
The job always has to come first.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

          The journey back to Virginia felt quicker than the journey there. Lizzie slept for most of it, finally allowing herself the pain medication she had originally turned down. She had fallen asleep on the small sofa, tucked underneath her fathers suit jacket and her head laying on the 'Night of the Reaper' book she had took from Spencer for some light reading before she eventually passed out. She lay there, small sounds leaving her lips every now and again as she adjusted herself in her sleep but she didn't wake up once even through turbulence.

Hotch and Rossi sat together in a comfortable silence. Hotch was watching his daughter sleep peacefully—relieved that she was well enough to do so. He had been terrified when he heard her voice over comms saying she had been hit. It was like the world had stopped for a moment and he didn't know what to do. Hotch understood the dangers of their career, he faced them himself every day. But now that Lizzie was right in front of him and working alongside him, he came to the realisation that he worried about her more than he had previously thought. Each time she had been injured on a case he had heard about it afterwards from her—when she was alive and well. He didn't know what he would do if he witnessed something happen to her right before his eyes.

Realising Hotch had been staring at his daughter for a long time, Rossi glanced behind him to where the young woman was sound asleep, "She's a tough kid." Rossi pointed out, assuring Hotch that he didn't have to worry like he knew he was.

"She's had to be," Hotch said absentmindedly, still watching his daughter before he pulled his eyes from her and let them fall onto Rossi, "She's been through so much sometimes even I don't know how she's still standing." He confessed, rubbing his hand across his jaw.

Rossi leaned forward in his seat, settling his clasped hands on the table in front of him, "She's had you—and Haley and Jack," He reminded them, "She's had the best support system a kid could ever ask for." He assured him.

Hotch diverted his gaze, "I don't know," He admitted, his voice small as if he were telling a secret, "Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if we hadn't been the ones to sign those adoption papers. Would she have led a normal life? One where she isn't surrounded by monsters like the one who took her family. I can't help it, sometimes I think she would have been better off." Hotch had never told anyone that before—not even Haley. He never wanted his ex-wife to think he regretted adopting Lizzie because he didn't—she was the love of his life, his first child and he wouldn't change having her for the world. But sometimes, he wondered if she could have had a life without more bloodshed.

"Well, thank the heavens that's not what happened," Rossi said, shooting down Hotch's doubt, making the man look up at him with wide eyes. Rossi threw his hands up, "That kid was born for this. Hell, she figured out who the Reaper was before we did, before you did—even if she won't admit it to us."

"She's got your brains, Aaron. And her mothers heart," Hotch smiled ever so slightly. Rossi pointed over his shoulder, "That girl is exactly where she is supposed to be." He assured him, but still, Hotch wasn't completely sold on the idea.

"Having her here has changed the dynamics," Hotch admitted, "I'm not sure I can do this job properly without worrying about her..."

"And no one would expect you to—you're her father, you're allowed to worry about her, especially in the job we do," Rossi said, "But let me tell you something, I haven't seen anyone with as much potential as that kid in a long time. And that's because she's been lucky enough to have you as a father."

Hotch thought it over. He sighed heavily, "I just can't help but think that I have to be a father to her more than her Unit Chief." He admitted, staring across at his daughter who slept unaware of the conversation about her.

Rossi sat back in his seat, "You do what you've gotta do, Aaron. You're her father," He said, "Just make sure you're doing what you thinks best for her and don't regret it."

JJ had been the one to wake Lizzie who had been in a blissful sleep. Upon stretching out her limbs, Lizzie had declared that the pain meds worked wonders, earning chuckles from all around. It was more than obvious that she was still feeling the effects as she stumbled around the jet, collecting her things sleepily. The team were talking about going out for celebratory drinks as they entered the BAU unit, chatting amongst themselves. It felt more carefree, now that the Reaper was in custody and lives had been saved.

"You a gin girl, Lizzie? You look like a gin girl." Emily was saying, pointing her finger at her with a big grin.

Lizzie grimaced, "Haven't touched the stuff in years since the worlds worst hangover made me swear I'd never touch it again. Give me anything with rum or whiskey in it and I'm more than happy." She said, wincing as she thought back to her college days—when she and her friends would drink bottles of gin and get wasted; and then regret it all the next day.

"Now you're talking my style, princess." Morgan said, giving her a smirk and Lizzie rose her brows at him.

"Oh, we're on a nickname basis are we now, handsome? I like it." She theatrically gushed, waving a hand over her face as if to fan herself down.

Morgan chuckled, "You took a bullet for me, Princess—that makes you a badass in my books. And definitely puts us on a nickname basis." He told her, heading for his desk that was on the left of where Lizzie's desk sat between Emily and Spencer's.

"JJ, I'm gonna get those clothes I borrowed dry-cleaned and then I'll hand you them back in." Lizzie said as she slipped into her recliner seat, allowing herself to lay back on it. Truly, the pain meds were making her feel more relaxed than ever.

"Lizzie, can I see you in my office?" Hotch called over to his daughter from where he stood on the steps leading to his office. He had that stoic look on his face that hinted he wanted to have a hard conversation with her. Lizzie hated that look.

Lizzie drummed her hands on her table, "Bossman's calling." She mumbled to herself, standing up to her feet and following her father into his office where he closed the door behind her as the rest of the team watched on curiously. They were more than aware of what that look on Hotch's face meant too—it meant something serious.

"Please, have a seat." He said, gesturing to the seat that sat opposite his desk.

Lizzie stared at him skeptically, "What's with the formalities? What's going on?" She quizzed him but slipped into the seat nonetheless, immediately reaching out to fiddle with the plaque with her fathers name on it. It was just to keep her hands busy as nerves formed inside of her.

Hotch sat down opposite his daughter and clasped his hands onto the table, "How are you feeling?" He asked her, staring intently at her.

Lizzie put the plaque down and sat back in her seat, "Uh, I'm feeling fine—still a bit woozy from the meds but I'm okay. Honestly, it's been over twenty-four hours now, the concussion isn't even a—"

"It's not that I want to speak about." Hotch interrupted her.

Lizzie rose a brow at him, "Okay," She drawled out unsurely, "Then what's this about?" She pushed, feeling nervous.

Her father didn't skip a beat, "I think you should go back to Boston," Lizzie's jaw dropped and she immediately flew out of her seat, ready to lose her shit with her father but he held his hand up, "Please, let me finish." Lizzie stared him down, her shoulders rigid before she allowed herself to sit back down in the seat, though, she was a lot more tense then before.

"I think it's in your best interests that you return to work in Boston, pick up where you left off—"

"Better for who? Me or you?" Lizzie spoke over him, despite the fact he had asked her to allow him to finish. She didn't care that she was disrespecting her father right then by speaking over him when the words coming out of his mouth were ludicrous.

"Both of us," Hotch answered, making Lizzie roll her eyes in disbelief as a scoff escaped her lips, "Lizzie, when I heard your voice through those comms, I couldn't think straight. All my years of work went straight out the window and all I could think about was you. You became my main priority—not the job. And we swore an oath, the job always has to come first—"

"Screw that!" Lizzie exclaimed, rising out of her seat, oblivious that the team was snooping from where they stood in the office area, "You and I both know you can do your job perfectly fine with me here! Everything worked out—"

"But you got hurt," Hotch interrupted her as he got to his feet as he slammed his hands on his desk. His eyes were glossed over as he spoke, "You we're hurt and there was nothing I could do about it." His voice was strained as he tried to remain the Unit Chief instead of allowing his fatherly emotions to take over him.

"So, what?" Lizzie exclaimed, throwing her hands up, "I go back to Boston and that way you don't have to deal with me getting hurt? News flash, Hotch, it doesn't matter where I am, this job comes with risks! Regardless to what team I'm with I could get hurt anyway!" She yelled at him in frustration.

Hotch stared at his daughter, "Lizzie, I think you should consider it." He said, keeping his tone neutral.

Lizzie sat back down, pretending to ponder it over as her father watched her carefully, "Okay, I've considered it—and I'm not going anywhere," Hotch looked distressed at his daughters choice. Lizzie sighed, getting up and walking around the table towards her father, calming herself down, "Look, you can use your Unit Chief power to have me transferred back to Boston and I'll go without complaints."

"Or, you can be my dad and you can want me to be happy—which I am, right here in Virginia," She gave him the ultimatum, her voice softening. She stared at her father, "So, what's it going to be?"

Hotch looked at his daughter for a long time, taking her in—taking in the woman she had become. It was like he had blinked and she had become this independent force of nature not to be reckoned with. Before Hotch could stop himself, he began smiling, "Now there's your mothers stubbornness." Lizzie immediately began beaming at him, realising they had come to a ceasefire.

JJ was suddenly barging into the office, interrupting the father, daughter moment, "Foyet's escaped." She announced urgently, fear in her eyes.

Lizzie's head snapped towards her father, her eyes widening. Hotch looked at her for a moment as he took in her gaze—asking for his permission to stay. After a moment he nodded and got out of his seat and Lizzie followed him and JJ out of the office, "Guards found him in his cell vomiting blood and convulsing. They rushed him to the Proudhon hospital." JJ filled them in as they walked across the platform to the stairs, leading them into the main floor office area where telephones were ringing and everyone was pacing around frantically—a much different scene from what they had first returned to.

"Get me the U.S. Marshal's office." Hotch ordered as Rossi joined them from his own office.

"I already called Don Reilly. I offered our assistance. He said they'd call us if they needed it." Lizzie tightened her lips. If they weren't invited in, there wasn't much they could do about Foyet's escape.

"Boston Field Office just identified documents from Foyet's house." Emily announced, hanging up her phone that had been at her ear as she and Spencer met them in the middle of the office.

"They're schematics for the electrical, heating and water ducts at the East Woburn Correctional Facility." Spencer filled them in, handing Hotch copies of the schematics.

"He had the schematics?" Hotch asked in disbelief.

"And not just for Woburn—for every jail, prison and courthouse in Massachusetts." Spencer added.

Lizzie shook her head in disbelief, "Of course he did—he's had ten years to plan what he would do if he were caught." She said, kicking herself for how they had underestimated Foyet once again.

"They're going to find him, right?" Penelope hopefully asked in a small voice, joining them in the middle of the office.

Lizzie glanced up to the TV hanging across the room displaying a news channel reporting Foyet's escape with his photograph alongside it, "They have to." Lizzie said, knowing the outcome if they didn't. Foyet wouldn't stop like he had last time—no such deals had been made. He would resume his killing. And they would never see it coming until it was too late.

"No, they're not." Hotch refused and Lizzie looked up at him through doe-eyes. It had taken the FBI to catch Foyet—and they didn't have them this time. Their chances of catching him were slim to none.

"He said he'd be more famous than we knew. And he was right."

( authors note )

             this chapter was one of my favourites to write because of the moments between lizzie & hotch <3

             also, now that lizzie's first case is over there will be quite a few time jumps between cases because I am definitely NOT writing every single episode! but I'll try to make sure I mention the time jumps in the chapters!

              — taylor xx