꒷꒦꒷⋆˚/ | \ ˚⋆꒷꒦꒷
⋆ ˚｡ ⋆𝗘𝗣𝗜𝗣𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗬⋆ ˚｡ ⋆
━━━ 𝒐𝒐𝒐. ɪ ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ. . . .ᐟ

𝖁eing a soldier is one of the most daunting and demanding professions one can undertake. For Alexander, the thrill of the challenge was what drew him to the military, and he found a unique sense of purpose as a member of an elite Navy SEAL team. From the moment he turned eighteen, he felt a deep call to serve-an aspiration that had been etched into his heart since childhood.

As he prepared for his first deployment, adrenaline surged through him, mingling with a sense of destiny. The moment he set foot in an environment vastly different from the comforts of home, he was captivated by the intensity and camaraderie of military life. Every challenge tested his limits, and with each passing day, he became more resolute that he had made the right choice, despite his family's strong reservations about his path.

His loved ones expressed their fears and concerns, worrying about the dangers that loomed in the shadows of his decision. But Alexander was undeterred; his commitment to serve his country outweighed all doubts. Even knowing that his nation was facing significant turmoil, his determination remained unshakeable. He embraced the trials ahead, driven by an unwavering sense of loyalty and honor.

When he entered boot camp, it brought about a seismic shift across the nation. On that fateful day, the United States found itself under attack as al-Qaeda executed a coordinated assault, hijacking four commercial airplanes. In a horrifying display of terror, two of these aircraft deliberately crashed into the soaring upper floors of the North and South Towers of the World Trade Center complex, sending debris and flames erupting into the sky. A third plane was mercilessly aimed at the Pentagon, the iconic symbol of U.S. military power, located in Arlington, Virginia. The events of that day would change the course of history, leaving an indelible mark on the American consciousness.

As the chaos unfolded outside, Alexander and the others, soon-to-be soldiers, found themselves confined in a cold, dimly lit bunker. The heavy steel door sealed them off from the world, plunging them into an oppressive silence that was only broken by the muffled sounds of distant turmoil. Anxiety hung thick in the air as they waited, each minute feeling like an eternity, without any means to communicate with the outside-a suffocating uncertainty that gnawed at their nerves.

For Alexander Hotchner, this was one of the most difficult moments of his life. The weight of the unknown pressed down on him heavily, a relentless burden of worry and fear. He couldn't shake the nagging thoughts of what awaited them out there, the fate of their mission hanging tantalizingly out of reach. The tension in the bunker was palpable, and he could sense it in the murmurs and anxious glances exchanged among the other men and women. They were all trapped together in this limbo, grappling with their hopes and fears as they waited for answers that would determine their future.

The attack on American soil ignited a profound determination within Alexander, driving him to enlist as a soldier. Rather than deter him, the events only fueled his resolve to protect his homeland. He embarked on a series of challenging deployments in the Navy, where he distinguished himself through his unwavering dedication and skill.

During one of these deployments, his commanding officer, recognizing Alexander's exceptional potential, suggested that he consider becoming a Navy SEAL. His commanding officer believed that Alexander possessed the qualities necessary to thrive within the elite SEAL teams. Inspired by this endorsement, Alexander committed himself to the rigorous training required to join their ranks.

He immersed himself in the grueling regimen, facing an array of demanding physical and mental challenges. With relentless determination, Alexander tackled every obstacle with fierce tenacity. As a result, he not only met the stringent requirements but did so with remarkable proficiency, passing each examination with flying colors. This journey marked the beginning of a new chapter in his life, one filled with camaraderie, bravery, and the pursuit of excellence.

In his early twenties, Alexander found himself immersed in the demanding and exhilarating life of a Navy SEAL. This journey became a source of immense joy for him, especially when he thought of his daughter, Isabella. Their bond is filled with warmth and affection, characterized by playful moments and heartfelt conversations. However, the relationship is also tinged with the challenges of separation. Alexander's rigorous training, unpredictable missions, and lengthy deployments often keep him away from home, making it difficult for them to share everyday experiences. Despite the distance, the love they share remains a powerful force, always waiting to bridge the gap whenever he returns.

Fortunately for him, his brother stepped in to take on the responsibility of raising his young daughter during his deployment and various missions. Alongside her cousin Jack, they created a nurturing environment for the little girl, providing her with the love and care she needed. This arrangement allowed her to bond closely with her uncle during a time of uncertainty. As he contemplated the significant decision of whether to retire from the Navy or continue his service, his brother's offer to join the Behavioral Analysis Unit loomed on the horizon, presenting a potential new chapter in his family's life.

For him, being in the Navy is an integral part of his identity, woven into the very fabric of his life. Yet, there are moments-especially since he learned he was going to be a father-when he finds himself yearning for a different reality. The news of impending fatherhood struck him like a bolt from the blue, leaving him grappling with a whirlwind of emotions and conflicting desires. He can't help but reflect on how different his life could be, caught between his duty and his dreams of a more conventional family life.

He often imagines that if he had never slept with her, perhaps things would have turned out differently this time around. The unspoken possibilities linger in his mind, painting a picture of what could have been-a moment untouched by their shared past, where their connection might have blossomed in new and unexpected ways.

It was one of the gravest mistakes he made in his life, a decision that would forever linger in the shadows of his mind, a constant reminder of the path not taken and the consequences that followed.

Alexander gazes out the window of his truck, his eyes locked onto the expansive horizon. As the sun rises, its vibrant hues spill over the landscape, draping everything in a warm golden glow that seems to awaken the earth itself. The long shadows stretch like fingers across the ground, while the fields come alive under the gentle, ethereal light, each blade of grass and petal of flower shimmering with new life. The sky transforms gradually, shifting from brilliant, fiery orange to deepening shades of velvety purple, creating a breathtaking tapestry above. This spectacular display reflects the profound sense of serenity that envelops him in this tranquil moment as if nature itself has paused to savor the beauty of dawn.

The gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze complements the serene moment, while distant mountains loom majestically, their silhouettes softening in the evening light. Lost in thought, Alexander feels a profound connection to the beauty surrounding him, as if the world outside reflects the emotions swirling within.

He was adrift in a sea of thoughts, the world around him fading into a distant blur, when the shrill ring of his phone pierced the silence. Startled, he drew in a deep, steadying breath, gathering himself before he reached into the pocket of his worn jeans. His fingers grazed the fabric, searching for the familiar shape of his phone, as he braced himself for whatever awaited him on the other end of the line.

He glances down at his phone, the bright screen illuminating his face as he checks the time. A sense of urgency washes over him-it's almost time to return to base. The message on the screen is clear: "Briefing at 09:30." He feels a sudden thrill at the mention of his new mission, knowing that important plans await him.

With a flick of the key in the ignition, Alexander brought his truck to life, the engine rumbling robustly as the familiar sound of machinery filled the air. The headlights flickered on, cutting through the early morning mist, and casting a warm glow on the surrounding gravel.

Alexander rhythmically taps his fingers against the cool steel wheel of the car, his movements in perfect harmony with the vibrant melodies pouring from the radio station. As the music swells, each tap echoes in synchronization with the beat, creating a lively dance of sound and motion in the quiet interior.

As Alexander sat in contemplation, his mind drifted back to the heartfelt conversation he had shared with his brother the previous day. They had discussed the undeniable truth that had begun to surface in his thoughts: it was time for him to settle down. The weight of his years spent in the navy loomed heavily over him, each deployment taking him further away from the life he had once known, particularly from his precious daughter.

He felt a pang of regret as he considered how much he had missed-the laughter of childhood moments slipping through his fingers like sand, the milestones he had been absent for as she began to grow into her person. The realization struck him that time was passing far too quickly, and he didn't want to blink and find that he had missed the opportunity to be an active part of her life. The thought of being a distant figure rather than a constant presence filled him with a deep yearning to reconnect and cherish what was left of her formative years.

He let out a deep sigh, as he carefully loaded his truck in the dimly lit corner of the parking lot, he took stock of each item, ensuring everything was secured for the journey ahead. The sound was heavy with weariness, as he switched off the engine of his truck. The low rumble faded into silence, leaving behind the quiet hum of the evening air.

He reaches for his phone nestled in the cup holder, his fingers brushing against the cool screen as he pulls it out. With a sense of urgency, he dials his brother's number, the familiar sound of ringing echoing in his ear. "This is Hotchner," he answers, his voice steady despite the anticipation building inside him as he waits for his brother to respond from the other end.

"It's me, Aaron," Alexander says with a calm yet confident tone into his phone, his voice carrying a hint of familiarity as he tries to connect with the person on the other end.

The phone crackled softly as a heavy silence enveloped the line. "Alexander? To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?" Came a cool voice, laced with a hint of surprise he couldn't stand it whenever his brother addressed him by his full name, feeling a mix of annoyance and irritation wash over him each time those formal syllables left his brother's lips.

Alexander let out a frustrated sigh, the memory of their last conversation flashing through his mind-an exchange that had ended on bitter terms. "Look," he said, trying to steady his tone, "I don't want to fight. I just want to apologize. I won't be able to call tonight." His voice faltered slightly as he continued, "I've been called in for a mission, and I have no idea how long it might take." The weight of his words hung in the air, a reminder of the uncertainty that loomed ahead.

Alexander feels a deep sense of frustration whenever he has to pick up the phone to call his brother. It bothers him greatly to deliver the disappointing news that he won't be able to engage in their cherished friendly chats with his daughter. The thought of missing those special moments, filled with laughter and connection, weighs heavily on him, amplifying his reluctance to make the call.

As Aaron Hotchner stepped out of the elevator in the BAU building, he felt a familiar rush of purpose. The polished marble floors gleamed under the bright overhead lights, reflecting the steady rhythm of his footsteps. The hum of activity in the bustling office greeted him as he walked towards his team, navigating through clusters of agents engaged in animated discussions. Each echo of heels and voices blended into a backdrop of determination, setting the tone for the challenges that lay ahead.

Hotchner's gaze was focused, his mind already racing with the day's priorities, as he made his way through the maze of desks and workstations, ready to tackle the cases that demanded his leadership. A part of him knew that eventually, his brother would say he wouldn't be able to make his routine calls every Tuesday night with his daughter.

"Are you truly certain you don't want to have a conversation with her? Or is this just another excuse you're using?" Aaron asked, his voice laced with concern as he strode past his team members. The rhythmic sound of his footsteps echoed in the corridor as he made his way to his office, a determined look etched on his face.

Alexander pressed his trembling hands against his face, feeling the roughness of stubble beneath his palms as he fought to suppress the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. The tumultuous bond between him and Aaron had always been intricate, woven with threads of love and tension.

Alexander could still hear the echo of Aaron's disapproving words, a stark reminder of his reluctance to embrace the path Alexander had chosen. The prospect of military service, particularly the rigorous demands of becoming a Navy SEAL, had sparked conflict between them, leaving Alexander torn between duty and the desire for Aaron's support.

"This is not a valid excuse, Aaron!" Alexander exclaimed; his voice strained as he struggled to maintain his composure. His frustration bubbled beneath the surface, threatening to spill over. "I never say anything when you have to travel out of state for a case. I'm simply informing you that I've been summoned for a mission and, unfortunately, I won't be able to make that call tonight."

In the bustling halls of the BAU in Quantico, a palpable tension filled the air as Emily, Spencer, JJ, Derek, and Gracie gathered near the large glass doors. They watched intently as their boss, Aaron Hotchner strode purposefully into the office, his expression shadowed by a deep furrow in his brow. Something was unsettling about the look on Hotch's face; it was a mix of anger and determination that hinted at an altercation or a troubling revelation.

The team exchanged concerned glances; their curiosity piqued by the unusual sight of their usually composed leader.

"Why does Hotch look like he's about to fight someone?" Emily whispered, her voice tinged with worry as she leaned in closer to her colleagues, eager to understand what had stirred his ire.

Spencer slowly raised his eyes from the well-worn pages of his book, a hint of intrigue etched on his face as he scanned the vibrant scene around him. The sunlight streamed in through the window, casting a warm glow on the room, and highlighting the dust motes dancing in the air. A furrow appeared on his brow as he contemplated the possibilities. "Perhaps it's just Strauss," he mused, his voice almost a whisper. "That would explain his demeanor, but it's amusingly ironic."

Alexander squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath to gather his thoughts and suppress the swirling anger within him. He wanted to avoid saying something regrettable to his brother. Just as he was trying to steady himself, a sharp knock echoed against the window of his truck. Startled, he opened his eyes and turned his head, spotting one of his teammates standing outside, looking eager to engage. Raising a hand, he gestured for them to wait a moment, signaling that he needed a little more time to collect himself before facing the world outside.

Alexander sat in his truck, the engine rumbling softly as he glanced at the dashboard clock. With a sigh, he picked up his phone, and as he held it close to his ear, the vibrations traveled through the device, creating a connection that felt almost intimate.

"Hey, I just wanted to reach out and explain what happened," he started, his voice steady but laced with urgency. "I don't want to get into another argument. Just please let her know how much I love her. I promise I'll make it up to her when I come to visit after the mission is over."

He carefully placed the phone down, his expression shifting as he gathered his belongings. He reached for his badge, the metal cool against his fingertips, then grabbed his keys, their familiar jangle breaking the silence. Finally, he hoisted his bag over his shoulder. With a deep breath, he stepped out of the truck, ready to face whatever lay ahead.

His teammates sprawled casually against his truck, their relaxed postures a stark contrast to the urgent anticipation of the moment. As he pulled up, Alexander offered a nod, a subtle acknowledgment of camaraderie. He greeted them with a friendly smile, and together they made their way toward the imposing structure of the Navy base, the scent of saltwater and engines lingering in the air. The warm sun cast long shadows on the pavement, heightening the sense of purpose that accompanied their steps.

"Yeah, I'll let her know that her father chose to bail out instead of finding the time to call her," Aaron replied, exasperation evident as he rolled his eyes. The tension in the air was thick, and he felt a simmering frustration building within him, threatening to boil over at his brother. "Just do whatever you want but consider this a warning. And for the love of everything, stop being such an inconsiderate jerk, Aaron. This hurts me more than you realize."

With a heavy sigh, Alexander ran a hand through his hair, the weight of the conversation pressing down on him. "I need to go before I say something I might regret later on," he stated, his voice steady but laced with emotion. He turned and strode into the facility towards their locker room, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the hallway, the air charged with his lingering frustration.

As Alexander listened intently, he caught the soft sound of a sigh drifting through the receiver, a clear indication of the weight of the conversation. Aaron cleared his throat, a brief moment of hesitation before he addressed him again with a steady voice, "Just be careful, Alexander." The calmness in Aaron's tone contrasted with the tension that hung in the air.

Just then, a sharp knock echoed against the door of his office, pulling his attention away as JJ poked her head through the doorway, her eager expression unmistakably signaled to him that there was an intriguing case at hand. With a determined nod, he stood up from his chair, the leather creaking slightly under his movement. As he exited, he made his way to the bullpen room, the soft hum of office activity buzzing around him.

Upon entering, he observed his team already gathered, a mix of focused expressions and hushed conversations filling the space. It struck him that he was the last to arrive, a latecomer to the critical discussions that were about to unfold. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation, each member ready to dive into the tasks ahead.

"Yeah, I know, Aaron. Just remember to be careful. Don't do anything stupid until I come back," Alexander said with a teasing lilt in his voice. He chuckled softly as he settled into one of the chairs, looking relaxed despite the tension that always accompanied their conversations.

"How can I? When you're taking all the stupidity with you?" Hotch replied to his tone light but laced with an underlying concern. He could hear the warmth in his brother's laughter, but that familiar dread crept in as he couldn't shake the thought of anything happening to him. The fear of seeing his brother laid to rest haunted him, casting a shadow over their playful banter.

As the call came to a close, Aaron exchanged a final heartfelt farewell with Alexander, who was still grinning on the other end of the line. He placed his phone down on the table, the clatter of the device breaking the silence that had settled among his teammates, who were all watching him intently.

Agent David Rossi, ever the one to break the tension, was the first to speak up. "He was called in?" he asked, concern etching his features. Aaron inhaled deeply, the air heavy with the weight of his worries. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, trying to gather his thoughts as he faced the reality of the situation ahead of them.

"Yeah, he was." Agent Rossi leaned back in his chair, a hint of nostalgia flickering across his face. It was no surprise to him that the conversation had turned to Hotch's brother; he had encountered him on several occasions during his infrequent visits.

Each meeting came with a palpable sense of familial warmth, the kind that spoke volumes about their shared history and the bond they had forged through years of ups and downs. Rossi could easily recall the easy laughter, and the subtle glances exchanged between them, revealing an unspoken understanding that transcended words.

"Who was called in?" Derek Morgan asked, his brows furrowing in curiosity as he leaned forward slightly, eager to understand who this enigmatic person was that they were discussing. Aaron glanced over at David, searching for guidance, but David merely shrugged, his expression blank as he seemed just as perplexed by the situation.

"Alexander, my brother," he begins, his tone remarkably nonchalant, as though he were discussing the weather rather than dropping a bombshell. The room falls eerily silent, the weight of his revelation settling heavily among them. Everyone exchanges glances, grappling with the startling realization that Hotch has a brother-a fact that many in the room were completely unaware of.

"You have a brother?" one of them finally asks, incredulity creeping into their voice. Hotch simply nods, his expression a mixture of acceptance and something deeper, perhaps even a hint of vulnerability. The revelation hangs in the air, leaving a palpable tension as they all process the unexpected twist in Hotch's life.

━━━━━ 𝜗𝜚 ━━━━━

𝕬lexander adjusted his uniform, feeling the familiar fabric tug against his skin as he made his way down the dimly lit corridor toward the briefing room. The anticipation hung in the air, thick with unspoken questions, as he imagined his team already gathered, their expressions a mix of curiosity and anxiety about the mission that awaited them. Each step echoed softly, a reminder of the weight he carried-both of his duties and the echoes of his brother's words that lingered at the back of his mind. He shook off those thoughts, focusing on the task ahead as he approached the heavy doors that marked the beginning of their next adventure.

"What's got you locked in battle with your thoughts?" Alexander turned his head, catching sight of a familiar figure striding behind him. It was Senior Chief Petty Officer Maverick Gilbert, a seasoned leader with a commanding presence, and one of Alexander's closest friends. The sun glinted off Maverick's polished insignia as he approached, a mixture of concern and camaraderie etched on his face.

Erick, in his early thirties, was a dedicated husband to his high school sweetheart. With a warm smile and an easygoing demeanor, he radiated a sense of stability. Maverick, on the other hand, was striking with vibrant red hair that cascaded down to his shoulders, complementing his bright blue eyes that sparkled with mischief and curiosity. Together, they embodied a story of love that had blossomed through the years, weathering life's ups and downs side by side.

Erick and his wife, Nina, enjoy a warm friendship with Alexander. The two men have developed a strong bond, especially since Alexander is the godfather of one of Maverick's children. Their interactions are marked by a genuine camaraderie, making it clear that they get along exceptionally well.

As Alexander leans back, a contemplative expression crosses his face. "I was just thinking about what I would do if I decided to leave the Bravo team," he muses, shrugging off the thought as if it were trivial. For him, stepping away from the military is no small matter; it represents a significant turning point in his life.

Yet, as he ponders this possibility, he can't help but consider the countless paths that might lie ahead for him. What would life hold outside the confines of camaraderie and duty?

Erick halted mid-step, his eyes fixed on Alexander with a mixture of disbelief and concern, as if questioning his sanity. The rest of the team, however, understood the unspoken tensions that lingered beneath the surface. They knew that Alexander's brother had relentlessly pressured him to pursue a career with the FBI since the moment he enlisted in the Navy. This pressure was one of the many reasons the other soldiers held him in high regard; they admired his resolve, especially considering he had just emerged from boot camp when he first distinguished himself within their ranks.

The young men in the Navy SEALs felt a deep sense of pride in calling Alexander their brother, and almost every one of them considered him not only a reliable comrade but also an exemplary soldier.

"Just recently, I had to inform my brother about my inability to join the Tuesday night call with Belly. I explained that we had received a summons for a mission, and the urgency of it left no room for distractions." Alexander's voice was steady as he conveyed the information, recognizing the importance of the situation.

"It's a heavy weight to carry," Maverick murmured, his voice tinged with empathy. He understood the turmoil in Alexander's heart all too well, having faced similar struggles with his children. The familiar ache of concern and love intertwined in his chest as he recalled the moments of doubt and fear he had grappled with when navigating his own family's challenges.

As they stepped into the briefing room, the atmosphere buzzed with anticipation. The sun streamed through the large windows, casting a warm glow on the polished wooden table at the center, which was surrounded by eager faces. The walls were adorned with maps and charts, hinting at the strategic discussions that had taken place here before. They exchanged glances, the weight of the upcoming deliberations hanging in the air like the scent of freshly brewed coffee.

Alexander positions himself on the right side of the table, his gaze catching sight of a DEVGRU Intelligence officer Annika Reyes who is nearby. The officer, known for their critical role within the Bravo Team, exudes an air of quiet intensity, scanning the room with a keen awareness that suggests a deep familiarity with high-stakes operations.

Alexander reclined in his chair; his body relaxed as he observed his teammates filing into the room one by one. The soft creak of the door accompanied the sound of their footsteps, a blend of laughter and chatter filling the air. He noted the varying expressions on their faces-some eager and animated, others tired yet determined-each bringing their unique energy into the space. The warm light of the afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting playful shadows as Alexander took in the lively scene before him.

As everyone settled into their seats, a palpable sense of anticipation filled the room. The soft hum of conversation faded away as they turned their attention to Annika, who was poised to begin the briefing for the mission. The dim light flickered overhead, casting shadows that danced across the walls, enhancing the urgency of the moment. Everyone leaned forward slightly, eager to absorb every detail as they awaited her prompt to start.

"All right Bravo team, at 21:30 undercover CIA agent named Madeleine Shepherd was captured by an unknown terrorist group in Syria." Annika started to speak while her gaze remained fixed on the television screen, which displayed a stunning, thirsty-something woman. With lustrous black hair cascading down her shoulders and piercing haze brown eyes that sparkled with charisma, the woman commanded attention effortlessly.

Alexander's gaze drifted towards Madeleine's photos, she must have been her thirty-something, "Do we know anything about those unknown terrorists? "As he cast his gaze downward at the file in his hands, the fluorescent lights overhead glinted off the glossy surface, illuminating the neatly typed pages within.

His eyes narrowed slightly, scanning the information laid out before him, each line a puzzle piece revealing more about the case he was delving into. The crisp rustle of paper punctuated the silence, an audible reminder of the weight of the details that lay contained in that seemingly innocuous folder.

"From what we gathered unknown terrorist groups have rumors might have done something with Osama bin Laden," Their Commander, Jay Hayes, stood tall and resolute, his gaze sweeping over the ranks of his soldiers, each one awaiting his orders with a mix of anticipation and determination.

Meanwhile, Alexander, feeling the weight of the moment, closed his eyes tightly. He took a deep breath and rubbed his hand thoughtfully against his forehead as if trying to erase the doubts swirling in his mind. The tension in the air was palpable, a silent testament to the gravity of the situation they all faced.

Everything changed for Alexander's long ago. When he vividly recalled the intense mission to capture Osama bin Laden, a task that had been meticulously planned and filled with uncertainty. However, the landscape shifted dramatically when a direct order came down from the President of the United States-to kill at the site, at Osama Bin Laden. This decision reverberated through history, altering the course of events and leaving a lasting impact on the world. It felt as if history was unfolding all over again, echoing past tensions and conflicts.

Alexander's hand had been the one to pull the trigger that extinguished Osama's life. In that moment, he had countless thoughts racing through his mind, recognizing that for many families torn apart by Osama's acts of terror, there would finally be a semblance of peace. Grief-stricken faces, burdened with loss, could find some solace knowing that the man responsible for so much pain was gone. Yet, for Alexander, the weight of that responsibility lingered heavily. He grappled with his emotions, finding it difficult to open up about the mission that had forever altered his life. The experience transformed him in ways he struggled to articulate; he preferred to keep those haunting memories to himself rather than relive them in conversation.

"Shit, it's like history it is repeating itself. Do we have identification about this group?" Dallas Blake responded with a thoughtful expression, his voice carrying a hint of hesitation as he began to speak.

"No, we don't have any identity about them, but we do know that we have the order to kill at the site."

Alexander maintained a careful silence, listening attentively as the briefing unfolded around him. His eyes scanned the room, absorbing the discussion details while the air was thick with tension and anticipation.

As he sat in deep contemplation, his thoughts drifted back to the enticing offer that SES Erin Strauss, the formidable Section Chief of the BAU, had presented to him before his brother Aaron's suggestion to consider it. The prospect had initially seemed overwhelming, but now, a flicker of intrigue ignited within him, and he couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps accepting the offer was the right path after all.

There's a chance that this mission could be his last, a culmination of risks and challenges that may lead to an uncertain fate.

━━━━━ 𝜗𝜚 ━━━━━

𝕿he weight of uncertainty hung over Alexander as he sighed, feeling the oppressive heat of the Syrian air envelop him like a heavy shroud. This mission, which had begun a grueling ten months ago, loomed over him with an ominous finality. Despite their relentless efforts and countless leads, the elusive CAI agent, a ghost in the desert landscape, remained hidden from view.

The terrorists seemed to possess an uncanny ability to shroud their secrets, artfully concealing the whereabouts of this vital operative. Each passing day brought more frustration, amplifying the risk that this could be Alexander's last operation in pursuit of the truth.

They have no idea what their plan next or what their next move is, they only know that are running out of time to find the CAI agent. It's common for a mission like this to take as long as it does, even though it usually only takes a few days for it to take place. But Alexander feels that this mission could only bring the worst out of him. Lastly, something tells him in his guts that whenever he goes home things will probably be different once he returns. He doesn't know what he is about only knows that it isn't going to be good that is for sure.

Alexander sighed and leaned his head against the back of the helicopter he was in, along with his bravo team from his platoon. The team was just so exhausted because being in the field for so long had made them finally aware of Madeleine's location. Currently, they are on their way to retrieve her so they can finally return home. The experience of being in the field for ten months was terrible. It was something that Alexander always seemed to forget when he was even in the field.

"Bravo one, do you copy?" Nika listened intently through the earpiece nestled in his right ear, the static crackling now and then, cutting through the tense silence.

"This is Bravo One, do you copy?" Alexander's voice came through, steady but laced with urgency as he spoke into his radio.

"Be advised, those terrorists are heavily armed," Annika replied, her voice betraying a hint of anxiety. The weight of the operation pressed down on her, tightening her chest. "We have no confirmation of any traps set for you. Copy?"

Alexander let out a weary sigh, rubbing his hands over his eyes, trying to dispel the fatigue that lingered from countless missions. "Copy," he replied, resolved to return to his tone.

"Ten seconds to drop!" The pilot's voice roared back to them, cutting sharply through the tension in the cabin. Alexander raised his thumb in acknowledgment, nodding at his team, the movement echoing the seriousness of the moment. As the countdown loomed, they each took a last check of their equipment, ensuring everything was in place, the gravity of the impending drop binding them together in shared focus and determination.

"Alright, quick and clean. We gather the CAI agent and we return home." Alexander was right about making this mission be finished as soon as possible so they could go home. After being the Syria for ten months he just wants to go home to his daughter.

"Good luck, Master Chief!" the pilot's voice boomed over the roar of the helicopter blades as Alexander, clad in tactical gear, gave a determined nod. With practiced precision, he grasped the rope and descended swiftly to the ground. His heart raced with adrenaline as he landed deftly, his boots hitting the earth with a soft thud. Moments later, his brother Maverick dropped in right behind him, each of them instinctively scanning their surroundings, their breath coming in measured puffs, forming small clouds in the cool air.

As the rest of the Bravo Team descended, they formed a cohesive line and carefully navigated down a gentle slope, seeking refuge behind the low rise of the hill. From this vantage point, they peered cautiously at a small village nestled in the distance, where they suspected the elusive CAI Argent might be hiding.

Alexander lifted his binoculars to his eyes, his gaze narrowing as he focused on the perimeter of a dilapidated house. He spotted three guards stationed outside, their postures relaxed but ready. "For a supposed hideout in the middle of nowhere, they seem remarkably incompetent," Alexander muttered, a hint of sarcasm in his tone, before handing the binoculars to Maverick. "Abrams, Hudson, I want you two to stay put and eliminate those three guards when I give the signal."

"Copy that, Chief," James Abrams replied, his voice steady and confident. He was known for his sharpshooting skills, a reputation he shared with Cole Hudson, both of them distinguished as the finest snipers on the team. They had earned this title not just through talent, but through Alexander's training and leadership, honing them into the elite marksmen they had become. Like them, Alexander was an exceptional marksman, making him the ideal leader for the Bravo Team.

Moving with practiced stealth, Alexander led the way toward the north side of the house, each step deliberate and silent, every muscle attuned to the environment. They concealed themselves amidst the shadows, awaiting Alexander's signal. He pressed his earpiece snugly against his ear, focusing as he whispered, "The cat is out of food," relaying the silent command to Bravo Members Three and Four.

The team fell into a hush, their breaths synchronizing with the stillness around them as they waited with bated breath. They watched intently as two of the guards patrolled the area, their movements languid and uninhibited. Then, all at once, the moment struck-the two guards crumpled to the ground silently, followed shortly by the third guard, who met the same fate, the efficiency of their strike sending a chill through the air.

The team was divided into two groups, each strategically taking different sides of the house to cover more ground. One group maneuvered to the south side, while the other crept toward the west. With every cautious step he took, Alexander felt a surge of excitement mixed with a tinge of anxiety, his heart racing at the uncertainty of what awaited him on the other side of the house.

Steeling himself, Alexander raised his fist and locked eyes with Dallas, sharing a silent understanding before he reached for the doorknob. He twisted it slowly, the metal cool against his palm, and as he eased the door open, Dallas and Owen slipped through first. Just as they entered, two guards emerged from one of the adjacent rooms, their presence a stark reminder of the dangers lurking within.

"Bravo One, we've got an unknown vehicle approaching," reported Bravo Four, his voice steady as he surveyed the incoming vehicles, heavily armored and bristling with weapons. The situation hadn't taken them by surprise; they had anticipated more guards would be on their heels. "Copy that. You know what to do," came the clipped response, tension thickening the air.

Meanwhile, Alexander and Dallas managed to secure themselves in the last room of the house, their comrades from the south reporting back that they had found nothing of interest. As the minutes slipped away, the urgency grew; every second that passed made the task of locating the CAI agent more complicated.

With a determined look, Alexander raised three fingers, silently counting down. One, two, three. At the command, Dallas unleashed a fierce kick directed at the door. It crashed open, and the two men swiftly fell into a single line, entering the dimly lit room only to be met with an astonishing sight-a gaping hole in the wall that led into a shadowy, open tunnel. Without a moment's hesitation, Alexander plunged into the abyss.

Just behind him, Tank, the K-9, started barking frantically, his instincts kicking in without a second thought. The loyal dog, despite having his handler, Killian Roosevelt, was unwavering in his commitment to Alexander and the Bravo Team. It was a peculiar bond-one rooted in instinct and camaraderie-and Tank was ready to protect his team at any cost as he followed Alexander into the tunnel's depths.

Alexander trailed the crimson droplets splattered across the damp floor, each drop glistening faintly in the meager light as he crutched his way forward. He brushed his fingers against the warm liquid, feeling the weight of the moment settle around him. With a practiced motion, he retrieved his gun from the holster, its cold metal reassuring in his grip. Every instinct in him urged caution, and he cast wary glances over his shoulder, ensuring no one would surprise him in the shadows as he ventured deeper into the tunnel.

A surge of relief washed over him when he spotted Tank, his loyal K-9 companion, trailing just inches behind. A smile broke across Alexander's face, knowing the steadfast dog would stand guard over him. Tank shifted, gently nudging his way between Alexander's legs, settling down as Alexander sank to the floor beside him. He reached down with his left hand, scratching affectionately behind Tank's ears.

"Alright, Tank, it's just you and me now. Let's finish our mission, and maybe we'll treat ourselves to some barbecue ribs afterward," he murmured, glancing affectionately at the dog, who seemed to nod in agreement with eager anticipation.

With a resigned sigh, Alexander raised his gun once more, his finger resting lightly on the trigger as he continued his cautious journey. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Dallas and the rest of the Bravo Team, their presence a welcome reminder that he wasn't alone in this perilous situation. Just then, he felt a hand clamp onto his shoulder-a firm but gentle tap that signaled they were all alert to their surroundings.

Together, they steered to the right side of the tunnel, instinctively checking for threats lurking in the shadows. The silence was deafening until a sudden scream echoed from a distant room, shattering the stillness and sending a jolt of adrenaline through Alexander's veins.

He instinctively lifted his gun, the tension in his muscles coiling like a spring as he advanced out of the dim alcove, determined to follow the desperate cries. It was there, in the flickering light, that he saw her-a woman, trembling and terrified, with a gun pressed to her head.

Frustration simmered within Alexander as he realized he had lost the chance to target one of the kidnappers. "Bravo One, we've got four unidentified vehicles emerging from the south. Do you copy?" the voice of the Intelligence officer crackled through the radio, a sharp reminder of their precarious situation. With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes for a brief moment, his fist raised in a silent signal for his team to hold their positions.

"Chief, four enemy vehicles are closing in from the south side. We're out of ammo to take them out," James reported, his voice taut with urgency. Alexander felt the weight of the moment pressing down on him. "Maverick, gather Blake, Baker, and Carter. Clear a path for Abrams and Hudson. Roosevelt and I will stay back to extract the CAI agent. Get the pilot on air!"

The Bravo team acknowledged their orders, some face tightening in understanding as they hurriedly retraced their steps through the dimly lit tunnel. The air was tense, every shadow hinting at the chaos outside. With narrowed eyes, Alexander and Killian inched towards the room where the hostage was held, the low murmur of their breaths echoing in the confined space.

Inside, his mind was a battlefield of mixed emotions. He contemplated the grim possibilities that awaited them. Two outcomes loomed ominously: either he would go another day without taking a shot at the terrorist, or the CAI agent would be lost to the carnage-each scenario a failure he could not bear.

Determination coursed through him as he turned to Killian, a silent pact formed between them. With a nod, they pushed forward, stepping cautiously into the room where the CAI agent was being held at gunpoint, the stakes higher than ever. As the door swung open, two Navy SEAL soldiers burst into the dimly lit room, their weapons drawn and ready. The air was tense with the thrill of confrontation.

In the corner, a terrorist soldier could be seen slowly retreating, his eyes widening in fear as he caught sight of Alexander and Killian advancing with determination. Alexander, tall and resolute, scanned the room with a steely gaze, locking eyes with the CAI agent who stood nearby, poised and alert. The agent's expression flickered with urgency as if weighing their next move against the escalating danger.

As tension crackled in the air, Alexander's mind raced, searching for a way to neutralize the terrorist without endangering the CAI agent. "Let her go! It's over!" he shouted, his voice tense as the soldier pressed the barrel of his gun against the agent's temple. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Killian, who appeared poised to take a shot. Alexander glanced back at the CAI agent, whose wide eyes reflected both fear and determination. She blinked urgently, a silent plea for understanding as they gauged their precarious situation.

In a sudden burst of courage, the CAI agent jerked her elbow back, striking the terrorist with a sudden ferocity that made him stagger. Seizing the moment, she lunged to the floor, narrowly avoiding the soldier's hold. With adrenaline surging through him, Alexander raised his weapon and, with a precise shot, took out the soldier in one swift motion, the echo of the gunfire reverberating in the tense silence.

Racing towards the agent, Alexander quickly knelt beside her, the urgency of the moment coursing through him. He deftly sliced through the ropes binding her wrists, then peeled away the duct tape from her mouth, his hands steady but swift. "Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice softer now as he helped her to stand, scanning her for any signs of injury amidst the chaos.

Madeleine Shepherd, a seasoned CAI agent, felt a wave of relief wash over her as the figures of American soldiers emerged from the chaos, their uniforms a symbol of hope and safety in a turbulent world. She shook her head, a mix of disbelief and gratitude flickering in her eyes, as the weight of her harrowing experiences began to lift, replaced by the promise of rescue and the chance for a new beginning. "No, I-I don't think so." As the Chief focused on the CAI agent, he didn't notice what was occurring until it was too late-a gunshot rang out. Alexander saw that Killian had been shot by terrorists. Without hesitation, he grabbed his weapon and shot the assailant in the head before rushing to Killian's side.

"Killian!" Alexander's voice echoed in a mix of panic and urgency as he sprinted toward his brother, his heart racing with fear. As he reached Killian, his eyes immediately darted to the ghastly sight of the wound, raw and crimson against his brother's skin. Without hesitation, Alexander knelt beside him, his hands steady yet urgent as he pressed down on the injury, applying firm pressure to stem the bleeding. The air around them was thick with tension, and Alexander's mind raced, determined to prevent any further harm to his brother.

Killian fought to keep his eyes open, the world around him blurring in and out of focus as Alexander pressed down firmly on the fresh gunshot wound. Pain surged through him, but he gritted his teeth, all too aware of the urgency of their situation. With trembling hands, he snatched up his radio, the device crackling to life in the tense silence. "This is Bravo One. CAI agent is in our custody, but Bravo Five has been hit! We need extraction, now! Bravo, you better find a way out of this hellhole! Do you copy?"

As he spoke, Killian felt the weight of Alexander's gaze bearing down on him, a mix of concern and determination shining through despite the chaos surrounding them. He struggled to stay conscious, his vision distorting further as the adrenaline began to wane, aware that their time was slipping away.

Killian let out a strained chuckle, the sound laced with agony as he shifted uncomfortably. "Haha, how the tables have turned," he said, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "You were once the one in this predicament, but now it's me. I fear this time, I won't be around to see you hang up your boots and retire." His gaze grew serious as he continued, "Chief, you have to promise me something. Take care of Tank and my son Jay. He's all I have left in this world." The urgency in his tone emphasized the weight of his request, a plea born from love and desperation.

"Hey, don't give up on me, Kill," Alexander urged, his voice thick with emotion as he struggled to hold back tears. His heart ached at the thought of losing one of his brothers; it would surely plunge him into despair. "You'll see your son again once we're back home. You, Tank, and Jay will all come with me to Virginia, just like we talked about. You just have to fight a little longer, buddy."

As he spoke, he kept his gaze locked on Killian, desperate for a sign of hope. He was so absorbed in his brother's struggle that he didn't notice Maverick and Dallas approaching, their expressions a mixture of concern and determination as they hovered protectively near their injured sibling, silently offering their support in this moment of uncertainty. The tension in the air was palpable, but Alexander held on to the belief that together, they could overcome this darkness.

Alexander was lost in his thoughts when he suddenly felt a firm squeeze on his hand, pulling him back to the present. He looked up to see his brother's earnest gaze, filled with a mix of urgency and affection. "Brother," he said, his voice steady yet tinged with emotion, "Promise me that you will be there for Jay. Be the father he needs-the kind who will always protect him. Make sure to give him the better life he truly deserves, and wrap him in the warmth of a loving family." The weight of the promise hung heavy in the air, binding them in a moment that felt both profound and pivotal.

"I promise," Alexander murmured, his voice trembling as a smile broke through the cascade of tears shimmering on his cheeks. "You will be the one to give him that life. Just hang on." He nodded, his gaze drifting upward to meet Mavericks' eyes, which glistened with unshed tears of his own. In that heavy moment, a profound sadness hung in the air-a fear neither of them had anticipated facing during their time in the Navy.

The weight of their shared camaraderie threatened to crush them, as they grappled with the reality of possibly losing a teammate. It was an emotional burden so intense that it could fracture one's spirit, a haunting truth they often ignored until it loomed over them like a dark cloud, too late to escape its grasp.

Alexander and Killian's bond began during their grueling days at boot camp, where they forged a connection that felt more like brotherhood than mere friendship. It was a relationship built on trust, understanding, and shared experiences. When Killian faced the heart-wrenching loss of his girlfriend, Alexander stood by him unwaveringly, embracing him in moments of despair and offering a shoulder to cry on whenever needed. His support was a lifeline during one of the darkest times in Killian's life.

Then came the joyous arrival of Killian's son, Jay. The moment he held his baby boy in his arms, a flicker of hope sparked within him, reigniting the happiness he once knew. Surrounded by the laughter and innocence of his child, Killian found himself transforming into the vibrant person he used to be, spreading smiles and warmth to everyone around him.

"Tell Jay that I love him and I'm sorry that I failed him as a dad," Killian murmured, his voice barely a whisper as he felt the weight of his body pressing down. He could sense the darkness creeping in, slowly stealing away his consciousness, and it filled Alexander with a deep sense of dread.

Alexander knelt beside him, his heart racing as he grasped Killian's wrist to check his pulse. The faint thrum beneath his fingers was beginning to fade, and he noticed Killian's eyelids fluttering shut. "Hey, Killian, stay with me!" he urged, his voice tightening with urgency. "You need to fight this. Don't leave your son without a father!" Desperation laced his words as he searched Killian's face for a spark of life, a sign that he was still fighting against the encroaching darkness.

Alexander turned his gaze toward Dallas, who seemed to be struggling just as much to maintain his composure. Both of them shared a deep bond, forged through years of brotherhood, and yet they found themselves wrestling with disbelief. The weight of the situation hung heavily in the air, and it was hard for either of them to fathom that one of their own might somehow come through this ordeal unscathed. Their hearts were heavy with uncertainty, each moment stretching into what felt like an eternity, as hope flickered dimly in the back of their minds.

"Bravo One, what is your status do you copy?" Commander Wesley Anderson says through the radio. Alexander couldn't think straight at the moment he was just only worrying about Killian.

Dallas clears his throat as he passes his radio, "This is Bravos Three, how long is the helicopter? Umm, Killian is injured; he is losing consciousness! Miss Shepherd is okay, she is not injured as badly but the suspect is dead."

"Copy that, the pilot is two minutes out," Annika relayed, her voice steady despite the chaos surrounding her. She felt a wave of helplessness as she dealt with the reality of one of her men, Killian, injured gravely. The deep, unsettling helplessness washed over her as she struggled to maintain focus while attending to the urgency of the moment.

Meanwhile, Dallas exchanged a determined glance with Alexander, silently communicating the plan they needed to execute. Just as the tension reached a peak, bright helicopters whirled above them, and Bravo Teams Six, Seven, and Nine descended onto the scene just in time. Their timely arrival offered a glimmer of hope as they rushed forward, ready to assist in carrying Killian to safety.

As Bravo Two facilitated the safe escape of the CAI agent, the remaining members of the Bravo Team were meticulously focused on the difficult task of lifting Killian, who lay injured and vulnerable. Dallas knelt beside him, applying firm pressure to the ghastly wound on Killian's side, determined to staunch the flow of blood and prevent a catastrophic loss of life.

Unbeknownst to Alexander and the rest of the team, four unfamiliar vehicles crested the horizon, their engines roaring menacingly. Without warning, gunfire erupted, sending bullets whizzing through the air as the team made their way toward the concealed refuge where Abrams and Hudson were strategically hiding, desperately intent on eliminating the threat posed by the unknown assailants.

Just as luck would have it, two helicopters appeared on the horizon, their rotors slicing through the air with a relentless thrum. One of the helicopters touched down precisely at the same spot where they had initially dropped off. Without a moment's hesitation, the Bravo Team rushed towards the first aircraft, urgency driving their movements. They quickly lifted Killian, wounded and gasping, into the helicopter, making sure he was secured before the rest of the team followed suit. Meanwhile, Alexander and James remained behind, their hearts pounding with adrenaline.

They unleashed a hail of gunfire at the enemy stronghold, their anger boiling over in retaliation for the chaos unleashed on their team. Each shot echoed the frustrations they felt, a desperate attempt to reclaim some control in a rapidly spiraling situation.

Alexander and James scrambled aboard the helicopter, the roar of the rotor blades filling the air around them. "Hold on tight, Killian!" Dallas shouted over the noise, his voice strained with urgency. "We're almost to the base-just hang in there a little longer!" He glanced anxiously at Killian, whose grip on the helicopter's edge was beginning to falter. The wind whipped around them, carrying the scent of oil and adrenaline, as the helicopter surged upward into the sky.

Alexander stared intently at his trembling hands, cringing as he took in the dark, crimson stains that marred his skin. The vivid red, still fresh and glistening, was a stark reminder of Killian's last moments, a haunting testament that seemed to bind him to the horrific event that had just unfolded.

As the helicopter descended onto the base, the air buzzed with urgency. Nurses and doctors sprang into action, rushing forward to meet the aircraft. With practiced precision, they unfurled a stretcher, gingerly transferring Killian's injured form onto it. Once secured, they hurried him into the infirmary, their white uniforms a blur of movement against the backdrop of the bustling base.

Meanwhile, one of the nurses motioned for the CAI agent to follow her for a quick evaluation. Inside the tents, the Bravo team was already shedding their gear, the sounds of clanking metal and zippers filling the air as they stored their weapons for safekeeping.

Alexander stepped away from the commotion, seeking a moment of solitude. He pushed open the door to a small bathroom and shut it firmly behind him, cutting himself off from the chaos just outside. Approaching the sink, he turned the faucet, watching the cool water flow as he took a deep breath, allowing the stillness to wash over him, even if just for a moment.

As Alexander submerged his hands into the cool water, he scrubbed vigorously, the crimson stains swirling and dispersing like memories fading into the depths. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he lifted his gaze to the mirror, where his reflection stared back - a haunting visage of turmoil. In a moment of overwhelming frustration, he clenched his fist and struck the glass with unrestrained force, shattering it into a dazzling explosion of shards that glinted like stars against the dim light of the room.

In the aftermath of the chaos, Alexander felt the tremors of his emotions rise within him, threatening to overflow. He placed a trembling hand over his heart, feeling it race against his ribcage, each beat echoing the panic that loomed just beneath the surface, ready to engulf him at any moment. The weight of his turmoil pressed down, suffocating yet exhilarating, as he stood there, vulnerable and raw.

Alexander sat on the cold, hard floor, the weight of isolation pressing down on him. Time blurred as he lost himself in his thoughts, tears staining his cheeks. Suddenly, a thought flickered in his mind-his phone! With renewed urgency, he fumbled for it in his back pocket, his heart racing as he saw the screen filled with missed calls and countless messages from his brother, Aaron.

Without a moment's hesitation, he dialed Aaron's number, desperation clawing at him. The phone rang only twice before he heard his brother's familiar voice pierce through the haze of his emotions. "Hotchner," Aaron answered, the tone sharp and alert. In that instant, the dam broke, and Alexander was overcome by a wave of sorrow, silent tears cascading down as he struggled to find words.

Meanwhile, in Virginia, Aaron stood in the kitchen of his home, surrounded by the bustling energy of his coworkers and family. The warmth of the kitchen contrasted sharply with the cold void left by his wife, Haley. It had been over a month since her tragic death at the hands of the notorious George Foyet, a loss that felt like a dark cloud following him. His son played nearby, laughter mingling with the aroma of their meal, while his niece sat at the table, blissfully unaware of the sorrow hanging over them. Luckily, one of Alexander's friends had ensured the safety of his niece during Foyet's threat, a constant reminder of what could have been.

Aaron had expected to hear from his brother long before now, but the silence had stretched out, each day feeling heavier. So when he finally saw Alexander's name light up his phone, a mix of anxiety and hope surged through him.

"Alex, what's wrong?" Aaron asked, his voice laced with concern as he swiftly stepped out of the bustling kitchen and closed the office door behind him. The sudden quiet enveloped him, heightening his anticipation for the response from his brother-their connection was a lifeline, and he could sense the urgency in the silence that followed.

Alexander inhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling as he steadied himself before clearing his throat. "Umm, I need to hear your voice, Aaron," he confessed, shaking his head in a moment of uncertainty. "I needed my brother right now. But, umm, that's not the main reason I called you."

His voice faltered as he continued, "I need to know if there's any way to contact your boss, Erin Strauss." Aaron felt a jolt of surprise. He froze, processing the unexpected weight of his brother's words. It never crossed his mind that Alexander might be considering such a drastic step, but now everything felt different.

With a heavy sigh, Aaron walked over to his desk, the worn leather chair creaking softly as he sank into it. "What happened? What made you change your mind?" he asked, searching his brother's eyes for answers.

Alexander shifted his gaze down to his hands, his fingers fidgeting nervously. He ignored Aaron's question, lost in his thoughts. Just then, the bathroom door swung open, and Dallas stepped in, his eyes puffy and red-rimmed. To mask his turmoil, Alexander gathered himself and said resolutely, "Just do it. I'll be waiting for her," before hanging up the call. The air hung heavy with unanswered questions and the tension of what lay ahead.

His fallen brother, his dearest friend, a devoted father, and a brave soldier-Killian Roosevelt-has been taken from this world, leaving an irreplaceable void in Alexander's life. Killian is gone, and at this moment, there is nothing Alexander can do to fill the emptiness of his absence. The reality of Killian's death weighs heavily on him, the finality echoing in his heart.

━━━━━ 𝜗𝜚 ━━━━━

𝕴t had been the hardest time for Alexander, he never thought he would be dealing with this pain. It had been over a week since the funeral of Killian Roosevelt, and the team took it hard Maverick and Dallas had taken time off and returned to their families, and Alexander that's where things got complicated.

The death of Killian weighed heavily on Alexander, plunging him into a deep sea of introspection. It forced him to grapple with a question that loomed larger than life: Should he hang up his uniform and retire, or should he continue his service in the Navy? The emotional turmoil led him to seek a meeting with Erin Strauss, his brother's formidable boss and the esteemed Section Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit (BAU). Alexander knew that the job offer had originated from her-an opportunity not just linked to his brother but a chance to carve a new path for himself.

As he contemplated his future, Alexander prepared to propose certain terms he hoped would resonate with Strauss, setting the stage for a negotiation. If she didn't see eye to eye with him and his proposals fell flat, he was resolved to remain in the military, continuing his commitment to his country as a devoted member of the U.S. Navy SEAL team.

Lost in thought, Alexander glanced down at the dog tags hanging around his neck, a heavy reminder of loss and brotherhood. According to tradition among his teammates, each member carries the dog tags of fallen comrades along with their own, a mark of respect and remembrance.

In a poignant tribute, Alexander wore two dog tags in addition to his own: one belonged to Killian, a brother-in-arms whose absence now echoed through his heart, and the other belonged to Elijah, a revered leader of the Bravo team. The weight of these tokens was more than physical; it was a daily reminder of the sacrifice, camaraderie, and the road he had traveled thus far.

Alexander was so lost in his thoughts that he hardly noticed the passing time until one of the waiters approached his table, a polite smile on her face. With a slight shake of his head to clear the fog, he looked up and ordered, "I'll have a black coffee and a slice of red velvet cake, please." The waiter nodded, her pen scratching on the notepad as she turned to head back to the bustling counter.

With a deep sigh, Alexander pressed his forehead into the palm of his hand, feeling the weight of his worries pressing down on him.

"Didn't think you'd turn out to be such a stressed man," Came a voice, pulling him from his reverie. Alexander glanced up, a mix of surprise and faint amusement dancing across his features at the unexpected observation. His gaze fell on his brother, Aaron Hotchner, who seemed to have transformed since their last encounter.

The last time they had spoken, the conversation had spiraled into a heated argument, leaving Alexander with a heavy heart. He remembered the stinging words he had unleashed in anger, words that now echoed in his mind with regret. The tension between them lingered in the air, charged and unresolved, as they stood facing each other in this moment.

Alexander leaned back in his chair, arms crossed tightly over his chest. A hint of irritation flickered in his eyes as he regarded the newcomer. "What are you doing here, Aaron?" he asked, his voice steady but edged with curiosity. He politely smiled at the waiter who had just set down a steaming cup of coffee and a slice of rich, decadent cake in front of him.

Aaron shrugged, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Since you asked for Strauss to meet with you, she recommended I tag along." Alexander let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head in amusement, the tension in his posture easing slightly. The atmosphere around them felt charged, filled with unspoken anticipation and the warmth of freshly brewed coffee.

"I don't need my big brother here," Alexander said with a hint of frustration in his voice. He couldn't stand it when his brother interfered in his life. Lately, however, he sensed an underlying tension; his brother was making an effort to reconnect after the tragic death of Killian. That loss had profoundly affected Alexander, swirling his thoughts into a chaotic storm. Deep down, he knew his brother's intentions were rooted in concern, but the intrusion felt suffocating as if his grief was being overshadowed by another's desire to help.

Aaron's expression tightened as he settled into one of the worn leather chairs across from Alexander. The atmosphere was heavy with unspoken words as he fixed his gaze on his brother. "Maybe you don't think you need me right now, but I want you to understand that I'm here for you. You shouldn't have to shoulder this burden alone."

An awkward silence enveloped the room, thickening with tension as both brothers contemplated their thoughts. It was Aaron who finally shattered the stillness, his voice soft yet probing. "How are things going with your godson, Jay?"

Alexander exhaled sharply, running a hand through his tousled hair in frustration. He found himself at a loss for words, grappling with the weight of the situation. After the doctors had done everything possible to save Killian, he was thrust into the whirlwind of emotion that came with flying to Chicago. There, Jay was staying with Nina, Maverick's wife, who had taken on the care of the boy during Killian's missions. Alexander understood all too well the demands of parental duty, as he too had managed his daughter Isabella's needs whenever his brother was away on cases outside of Virginia.

"Things are tough for him," Alexander finally admitted, his brow furrowing as he thought of Jay's struggles. "He clings to me whenever I have to leave, and it's like I'm the only one he wants to talk to. It's been a challenge. I'm trying my best to give him the space and time he needs, but it's heartbreaking to see him like this." The sorrow in his voice was palpable, reflecting the deep concern he felt for his godson amidst such turmoil.

Aaron felt a deep sense of empathy as he observed his brother, Alex, grappling with the emotions surrounding their shared loss. It mirrored the turmoil within his own heart, especially as he faced the same storm with his young son, Jack. Even though it had been a couple of months since the heartbreaking death of Haley, his ex-wife, the weight of grief still lingered heavily in the air. Jack, in his innocence, struggled to comprehend the profound sadness surrounding them, leaving Aaron feeling both protective and helpless.

"Give it time, Alex," Aaron advised gently, his voice steady but filled with compassion. "It will be tough; they will experience so many different feelings. That's where you must be there for him, both as a father and a guiding presence. Jack will need you to be there in the most crucial moments, to help him navigate through this loss. He needs someone who can truly relate to what he is going through. I understand what Jay is facing during these difficult times."

Alexander takes a moment to savor the rich aroma of his coffee, lifting the warm cup to his lips before indulging in a slow sip. Setting it back down on the polished table, he averts his gaze to his brother, anticipation building in the air like the steam rising from their mugs. Just as he prepares to speak, a striking blond woman strides toward their table, exuding an air of authority that instantly signals her identity as the infamous Erin Strauss.

With a confident grace, Alexander rises from his chair, his movements fluid and respectful, a gesture mirrored by his brother, Aaron, who stands in deference to his superior.

"Gentlemen, I apologize for my tardiness. It's a pleasure to see you both, especially you, Aaron," Erin says, her voice smooth and authoritative as she warmly grips Aaron's hand in a firm shake. She then turns her attention to Alexander, who observes the dynamic between the two with a mix of admiration and unease. The energy in the room shifts, making him wonder if engaging with Erin Strauss might be a decision fraught with complications.

"Master Chief Petty Officer Alexander," Erin Strauss said with a hint of amusement in her voice, "it's finally refreshing to hear from someone who seems to have an uncanny ability to find himself in predicaments." She extended her hand, and Alexander accepted the gesture firmly before settling into the plush armchair across from her.

A friendly smile spread across Alexander's face as he replied, "Well when you navigate a world like this, it's nearly impossible to avoid trouble without bending a few rules along the way." He shrugged nonchalantly, the weariness of experience evident in his demeanor. "It's all about perspective-understanding what constitutes truly bad versus genuinely good," he added, glancing at both Aaron and Erin, who nodded in silent comprehension of his deeper insight.

Without wasting any time, Strauss steered the conversation towards the heart of the matter-the inner workings of the Behavioral Analysis Unit and the complexities of what the FBI truly undertakes. As she spoke, her tone shifted to one of serious professionalism, outlining the intricate layers of investigation and profiling that define the agency's mission. The atmosphere in the room tightened with anticipation, keen to delve into the details that would illuminate their conversation.

After a thorough explanation of the intricacies of FBI operations, Alexander shifted in his chair, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. He faced his brother, ready to discuss the terms and conditions necessary for him to accept the enticing offer to join the FBI. Deep down, he knew his brother might not fully approve of the stipulations he must agree to, but he was resolute-this was the only pathway open to him. If Strauss couldn't accommodate the terms, then their negotiation would crumble, and Alexander would remain firmly entrenched in his role as a Navy SEAL.

"It's fascinating how the FBI operates," Alexander remarked, tilting back in his chair as he crossed his arms defiantly across his chest. With a wry smile, he continued, "But what makes you think I'm the right fit for this job? Half of the things you've described seem far removed from anything I've ever experienced."

"But if it's part of the job, then I'll have to adapt," Alexander conceded, observing his brother's approving smile and nod. There was a moment of hopeful anticipation in his brother's expression, which quickly turned to caution as he glanced at his boss-a woman whose eyes sparkled with the thrill of having found the candidate she had long sought after, one whose reputation echoed through the halls of her colleagues. Alexander couldn't help but smirk inwardly, anticipating the moment when those cheerful smiles would fade into disbelief as he presented his terms. The air crackled with an unspoken tension, setting the stage for the unfolding drama.

"But of course, I have some terms that could be quite advantageous for you. If you choose not to accept them, then I will simply decline your offer and return to my life as a Navy SEAL," Alexander asserted, his voice steady and confident, anticipating the expression of surprise that would soon sweep across their faces.

A heavy silence settled in the room, punctuated only by the soft rustle of papers as Hotch and Strauss exchanged wary glances, actively working to maintain their composure in the face of Alexander's brazen challenge. Strauss finally cleared her throat, her voice firm but measured, "And what terms are you proposing?"

"I propose that you add a member to my brother's team-someone who would bring significant advantages to the team and enhance our effectiveness on cases," Alexander replied, his gaze unwavering. He strode purposefully to the table, opening one of the folders he had prepared specifically for this meeting. With a deliberate motion, he pushed the folder toward Strauss, its contents hinting at the possibilities that lay ahead.

"Tank is an extraordinary K9 dog, and I wholeheartedly believe he should be added to our team," Alexander declared, his eyes focused intently on Strauss as she sifted through the documents detailing Tank's impressive capabilities. "Tank can detect explosives from miles away and has an uncanny ability to track down missing persons simply by scent. As you can see, he boasts an unblemished record in the Navy - a testament to his unparalleled skills. He's truly one of the finest dogs you could hope to have on your team. I believe he would make a perfect addition to my brother's team, especially for cases involving missing individuals."

A confident smile spread across Alexander's face as he noticed the gears in Strauss's mind starting to turn. However, she remained unyielding. "What makes you think this would benefit me? Even if I were inclined to accept him into the unit, the decision isn't mine alone. It transcends my rank," She replied, closing the folder with a decisive snap and sliding it back toward him across the table.

"I anticipated you might say something like that," Alexander replied with a knowing grin as he produced another folder, sliding it toward Strauss with an air of determination. "I reached out to someone with connections at the FBI. You see, I happen to owe a favor or two after saving his life - along with that of his two children."

Aaron felt a swell of pride as he glanced at his brother, marveling at the transformation he had witnessed since their last meeting. Gone was the timid boy he once knew; instead, his brother stood confidently, challenging Strauss in a way that exuded strength and determination. The sight filled Aaron with an overwhelming sense of admiration, knowing that for the first time, his little brother was firmly asserting himself, putting Strauss in her place with a grace that was both striking and empowering.

"Your boss, Andreas Carr, certainly owes me a few favors," Alexander remarked, observing Strauss as he carefully perused the letter penned by Andreas. "After all, I rescued him from an attempted kidnapping orchestrated by a group of terrorists from Gaza. And let's not forget his two children-one was nearly killed by cartel members, and the other narrowly escaped the clutches of sex trafficking gangs."

His voice held a mix of gravity and concern as he recalled the harrowing events that had unfolded. The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension, underscored by the significance of the documents in Strauss's hands. Those letters contained not just words but the heavy weight of unspoken promises-commitments made by high-ranking officials who had agreed to support Tank's entry into the FBI, contingent upon his successful completion of a series of rigorous exams before he could be officially welcomed into the ranks of the team.

It was no surprise that Alexander had connections within the FBI, given his history of undertaking perilous missions to rescue agents who had once been in jeopardy. His reputation had spread like wildfire through the agency, establishing a clear understanding among the ranks: if Alexander requested assistance, it would be granted, no questions asked.

"What are the other terms you have in mind? I can't believe it's just this one, am I wrong?" Strauss inquired, her voice laced with a mixture of curiosity and caution.

Alexander nodded thoughtfully, a glint of determination in his eyes as he prepared to present his next request. "My second term is quite straightforward," He began, his tone measured and firm. "My godson is now in my custody, and I desire for the FBI to assist me in securing a quality education for him, along with a suitable house or apartment where we can reside comfortably."

Strauss accepted his second term almost immediately, her agreement coming without a moment's hesitation. She was acutely aware of the recent turmoil surrounding Killian's untimely death, which had left his young son fatherless in a world that seemed suddenly more daunting than ever.

"And my third term should be easy for you to accept," he declared, his voice steady but laden with a sense of urgency. "If anything bad or dangerous occurs that threatens our nation and pushes us toward the brink of war, I will not hesitate to join my brothers in arms to protect our homeland against our adversaries." As he spoke, he caught a glimpse of his brother's incredulous expression, eyebrows raised as if he were teetering on the edge of disbelief.

Strauss, her brow furrowed in contemplation, hesitated at his final condition. After a moment's pause, she replied, "I will consider it." Though she stopped short of a clear affirmation, her words were close enough to a yes that Alexander felt a wave of relief wash over him.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Alexander prepared to reveal his last term. This one felt particularly weighty, a critical step in his quest to uncover the truth about her. "My final condition is this: you must provide me with everything you possess on the De Luca Cartel-from its inception to the present day." He spoke carefully, making a conscious effort to mask the urgency of his interest, unwilling to divulge too much about the reasons behind his probing inquiry.

It was a truth he could never reveal.

‧₊˚ 𝖊𝖕𝖎𝖕𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖞 ₊˚ෆ
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❜ ⁞ 𝕬UTHOR'S 𝕹OTE. . .

｡⋆ ₀₁ 𝔢𝔭𝔦𝔭𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔶 . . . 𝖊𝖕𝖎𝖕𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖞 ! ⋆｡
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𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚋𝚢 𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 © 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟻.

-ˋˏ ₍ 𝓐𝖴𝖳𝖧𝖮𝖱'𝖲 𝓝𝖮𝖳𝖤 ₎ ˊˎ- ﹕

WELL WELL WELL! Welcome to the very first chapter of Epiphany!!
I know some of you have been waiting for this chapter since last December and it is my fault since I was supposed to make this chapter up to 10,000 words only for it to be longer than I expected.

But anyway, I wanted you guys to know about Alexander's life in the military and how he is different from his brother Hotch. I kinda want you guys to know about Alexander's backstory and what drove him to become an FBI agent.

The next chapter will have little time to jump where we will start in Season Four cases cause they are very interesting and from there to Season Five and so I think eight not sure. I still haven't decided if I'm following the timeline of the Criminal Minds.

Thank you for reading <3

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-ˋˏ ₍ 𝓡𝖤𝖬𝖨𝖭𝖣𝖤𝖱 ₎ ˊˎ- ﹕

Thank you all for taking the time out of your day to comment on this story. It means a lot and helps the story be spread to a broader audience &&& allows me to grow as an author. All I ask is that people vote on each chapter, please. As a creator, it takes time to write and develop stories. So please, vote on every chapter. It means a lot more than I could ever express.

Don't forget to vote & comment!

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