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𝑹 𝑬 𝑴
❝ 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚐𝚎! ❞

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ㅤ𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐀'𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘 as she stared at herself in the mirror. She looked the same; every movement she made, every little change in expression, it was her. Yet somehow, she still felt different.

Ever since Aaron's admittance to his feelings for her, she felt as though she was living someone else's life, as if someone else deserved his affections, not her. She could maybe chalk it up to her lack of experience with real emotions, or maybe even denial, but as much as she tried to push it all away, it was there. It was real.

She would've been fine with postponing her final decision, give herself more time to think just like Aaron told her to do, but with Jack suddenly calling her his 'momma,' it feels like everything's crashing down on her. She feels suffocated and stuck, and her fight-or-flight response is becoming harder to ignore. And the fact that she wants flight instead of fight just makes her feel even worse than she already does.

If she could, she'd rather she stop time for a second just so she could think.

She's always prided herself in her ability to process her personal thoughts simultaneously with the complex equations she has to work on. Yet, somehow, instead of just invading her personal thoughts, Aaron Hotchner has overtaken every nook and cranny her mind can offer, and it's throwing her off her game. She feels as though he was becoming a distraction.

At least, old Alina would've.

New Alina was just ecstatic. Happy, that he's now part of her life. Happy that he's making her happy. Happy that he's brought so much joy and even more indescribable feelings to her once-monotone existence. He's brought Jack in her life, too. He's changed her life.

And therein lies the problem.

Alina has never been very good at dealing with change. And even though she considers the Hotchner boys entering her life a good kind of change, it's still change; change that she doesn't know how to deal with, how to understand, how to process. It's well known to everyone—family, friends, colleagues—that she had always been immovable and rigid with her beliefs. Once she's stated her opinion about something, it's very unlikely for it to change. And with her belief that love, relationships, are just a distraction, it's particularly difficult for her to accept that she might be wrong.

Another thing about her: she hated being wrong.

She let out a groan as she turned the faucet on. Cupping her hands underneath the water, she collected just enough for her to splash it on her face. Maybe it might bring her some clarity.

Sadly, all it did was wake her up even more.

She sighed and turned the water off, twisting around to reach for her face towel to dry her face. Even though she'd rather stay in bed and wallow in her sorrows, she has work to do, and she couldn't hold off on doing what she has to do just for one person...or, she supposes, two. Because, though it pains her to admit it, she liked it when Jack called her momma.

It brought on fond memories of her when she was younger, taking care of Pandora like her own, when her sister had no other woman to look up to but herself. But it brought on memories that she weren't so fond of too, when her and her siblings were all just kids—teenagers—with no mother who can love and cherish them, and a father who was always off in Kentucky, of all places. The only real parent that they genuinely ever had was their nanny, and their Grandpa Hector, who lived to ninety-seven before succumbing to old age.

She shook her head free of her intrusive thoughts and finally put on the outfit she laid out for herself. As usual, she decided on more comfortable and practical clothes, so after putting on her underwear, she slipped her arms through the sleeves of her white button up, quickly buttoning it right before pulling on a pair of brown high-waisted slacks. She tucked the button up into her trousers, and finally, she donned a black sweater vest that completed her look. Admiring herself in the mirror for bit, she put on her glasses and locket, then tied her hair in a low bun.

Turning to face her bathroom door, she pushed it open, and was greeted by the sight of Jack putting on his own clothes. She giggled, walking over to him to kiss him on the forehead.

"You need any help, baby Hotch?" Alina asked, ruffling his blond hair fondly.

"No, thank you," Jack replied politely, grinning up at her as soon as he got his head through the hole in his shirt. Alina had allowed him to put on an outfit of his choice, and of course, once he'd figured out that he was gonna spend a day in the labs with Alina and the others, he didn't hesitate to put on his Iron Man long-sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans.

Alina laughed. "You're dressed like Tony."

Jack beamed at her words. "I wanted to look like Uncle Tony!"

Another development: Jack has stopped calling everyone Mr and Ms, and was now calling everyone aunt and uncle, which made his little circle just a bit bigger. He was now the nephew of a billionaire, a guy with anger management issues, a couple of master assassins, an android, a guy who walked around in a bird suit, a guy with a metal arm, a guy with a frisbee, an android, and a Scarlet Witch. He had a pretty awesome family.

"Well, you sure do dress like him," she pressed another kiss on his head, leading him out of her bedroom and into the living room, "I'm sure he'd be happy. Feeding his ego like that, he's gonna spoil you rotten." She then walked towards where she kept her shoes—and Jack's now—and asked, "What shoes do you wanna wear?"

"These ones!" Jack walked towards her and pointed at his running shoes. Then he pointed to her own pair of shoes that matched his. "You wear these!"

Alina hummed. "You want us to match?" She pulled both their shoes off the rack; both were white Adidas Superstars.

Jack nodded eagerly, his grin widening. "Yes, please."

"Alright, can't say no to you, anyway."

After they've put on their socks, both of them slipped their shoes on.

Alina turned to Jack again and asked, "You wanna call your dad before we go to the labs?" Glancing at her clock, she continued, "If my calculations are correct—and they usually are—he's about to head to bed. You wanna say goodnight?"

"Mhmm," Jack nodded eagerly, running back into her room to grab her laptop. Once he got back, he placed it on the coffee table and allowed Alina to do her thing with it. Before she could even hit 'call,' she was already receiving one from Aaron.

She didn't hesitate to accept it.

Aaron's handsome face filled the screen, and Alina grinned, waving at him excitedly as she sat on her couch beside Jack, who was waving just like she was. Immediately, Jack pulled his dad into a conversation that consisted of him talking about how excited he was to visit the labs, as well as telling stories about his new family.

As the Hotchner boys talked animatedly with each other, Alina allowed herself to drift into her thoughts, starting with the fact that she had The List pocketed into her slacks right at this moment. As she stared at Aaron, the flimsy piece of paper just felt heavier and heavier, allowing herself to use this time to think about her next move. But she kept getting sidetracked, especially when she noticed the slight stubble on his face.

She couldn't help herself: "Are you growing out your beard?"

The boys both stopped and turned to her. It was Aaron who made the first move by slyly throwing her a teasing smirk.

"You like it?" He asked, the smugness in his tone not going unnoticed by Alina who was suddenly thinking about less than appropriate thoughts about the agent as she tried her hardest to subtly press her thighs together. Being the profiler Aaron was, the movement didn't go unnoticed as his smirk widened. "You okay?"

Alina huffed and crossed her arms, shooting him a look of indignance. "I hate you."

Aaron shook his head and scoffed. "Unbelievable."

"Dad!" Jack suddenly cut in. "Please take off your beard. I don't like it on you."

"You don't think I look good?" Aaron joked. "Alina, what do you think?"

Alina pouted as she mumbled, "You know what I think."

"Huh? I couldn't hear you," Aaron teased.

"You're a little shit, you know that?"

Jack gasped. "Language!"

The biophysicist can only sigh as Aaron high-pitched laughter resonated through the speakers.

Alina watched Jack fondly as he put on his lab coat, waddling over to Tony. After their talk with Aaron, they headed straight to the labs where she'd most likely be working in for the entire day, as shortly after the whole ambush, she and Helen finally finished the prototype they've been tirelessly working on for months. Though they've yet to establish a proper name for said prototype, it was ready for its first phase of clinical trials.

As the Cradle itself had already pretty much gone through phase zero—considering one, it's already healed Clint Barton; and two, it's already made a synthezoid—there was no need to do it again, as they were already certain that there were no bad side effects. Laura Barton even swore up and down that there wasn't anything physically different.

Helen greeted her with a fond smile as she walked towards her. Both were carrying a tablet each that worked on different aspects of the prototype. Though this time, it was mostly going to be used to monitor the changes in which the machine would inflict on the twenty-five volunteers who were prepared to be tested on. Most of them had been their own interns, grad students who were genuinely excited to be a part of something that could quite possibly change the world of medicine.

"Hey," Alina grinned, stepping right beside Helen who was wearing an all-gray get up, reminiscent of a more modern nurse's outfit. She remembers seeing her wear it when the Avengers had gotten back from Sokovia after retrieving the scepter or the first time.

"Hey you," Helen replied softly. Despite her calm demeanor, it was obvious with the way her eyes sparkled and lips twitched how excited she was. She gestured to the volunteers with another one of her gentle smiles. "They're all ready. Are you?"

"Born ready, baby."

The two giggled as they stepped into a smaller lab within the main lab area where the prototype was moved. It was free of any equipment except for the prototype itself, the chair they've prepared for the person who will undergo the testing—both sitting in the middle of the room—and the other chairs for the volunteers who were going to wait for their turn.

Helen then beckoned the volunteers inside. Of course, only a few of them actually had real wounds they had to heal—some of them were recent visitors of the ER in the nearest hospital, who were willing to kickstart their healing—most were people with scars that they just wanted to get rid of. Everyone but the interns were looking around the bright room in wonder, as with most Stark buildings, it was encased in glass; glass walls, glass door, large glass windows.

Alina then pointed down to the chair that was similar to the ones you'll find at the dentists'. She looked down at her tablet where the volunteers' names were listed and announced the first name on the list.

A teenage boy stepped forward, wearing a pair of ripped jeans and a black hoodie while cradling his bandaged arm. It was clear by the way he was carrying a skateboard under his arm that his injury must've been from an accidental fall while he was trying out a new trick.

He quickly set his skateboard on the ground before sitting on the chair and leaning back, eyes trained on the ceiling. "Will it hurt?" He asked.

Alina shook her head and smiled. "Absolutely painless if things go according to plan."

The boy snorted. "Eh, if things go wrong and I die, at least when I go to heaven, I can tell my asshole of a brother that I met the Avengers."

"You sure you'll be going to heaven?" Alina joked, avoiding talking about the mention of a dead brother. She wasn't one for consoling, and she could tell by the way the boy relaxed that he didn't want to talk about it either.

He thought for a moment and shrugged. "I'm pretty sure if you die in an accident or something, you'll go to heaven. Like, it wasn't my time yet or some shit like that. How should I know? I'm an atheist."

"Yet you think you'll go to heaven?" She laughed, beginning to unwrap the boy's bandages. On the other side of the room, Helen was rounding up the volunteers, arranging them in order in the waiting chairs. "I'm pretty sure that's, like, a sin if you don't believe in God."

"Oh well, hell's much cooler anyway. Pretty sure Satan's chill."

Alina laughed, finally placing his now-unwrapped forearm on the sides of the chair. It was an ugly wound; bright, angry red, with several second-degree burns, and a few stitches.

"What the hell happened?" She asked.

"Fell off my skateboard while skating in an empty pool," he told her. "Skidded, hence the burns and the scratches. Tried to break my fall too which is why I had to get stitches."

She scoffed and hummed to herself as she began to power on the machine, noticing how the boy tensed slightly in apprehension. "Hey, don't worry. I'm serious, it won't hurt and it won't kill you."

He sighed. "Whatever, as long as I get healed. Wouldn't want my dad to see them."

"Why not?"

"'Cause he's a pain in the ass, thinks he's the shit just 'cause he's been to war," he rolled his eyes. "Wants me to get into West Point but I don't want to join the Army."

"So you're rebelling," Alina nodded, her voice even. She didn't want the kid to think she was judging him when she herself had gone through a bit of a phase like he had. She gestured for him to continue as she got the machine started; he looked like he needed someone to just listen, and she was willing to help him with that. "What do you wanna be, then?"

The boy looked a little shocked and confused that someone was willingly listening to his teenage problems. But he shrugged it off and answered, "I wanna be a photographer. I'd rather shoot a camera than shoot a gun. I'm not about that. I hate violence. May look like I do, may seem like I do, but I hate it. I'd rather be able to express myself, help others express themselves, but no one seems to understand that. They just think that since my dad and older brothers are in the Army, I'm gonna be in the Army too. Fuck no! I hate their haircuts and-- oh wait, you're done?"

Alina laughed at the look of disbelief on his face as he examined his hand. "Uh huh," she shook her head in amusement. "Told you it's painless."

"Duuuuddeee!" He gaped, lifting his arm up. "Can I touch it?"

"I'm actually just about to tell you to," she said, and he didn't waste any time, using his other hand to poke at his skin. "Anything different? Does it feel strange?"

"Well, it's kinda strange 'cause, like, this isn't my actual skin. Like, it looks like it's a part of me but it's not," he explained. "It doesn't feel strange though, you know what I mean? It doesn't hurt or anything. Dude, this is awesome!"

She couldn't help but laugh again as she patted the boy on his shoulder. "Well, I wish you good luck. If you need someone to talk to your dad or older brothers, just let me know. I can talk them down." She handed him her business card after scribbling her personal phone number on the back. "Or if you need anyone to talk to, I'm here. Although, I'd prefer it if you only call me if you feel any discomfort with the arm. Don't forget that I'm not your therapist," she joked.

The boy turned to her and narrowed his eyes as he scanned her up and down while taking the card. "No offense, lady, but I can't see you talking my father down. You're, like, four feet and he's six-foot-one."

"Rude!" She exclaimed jokingly. She was happy at the sight of him finally smiling at her reaction. "I'm five-foot-one, thank you very much. And I may not look like I can physically take them on, for your information, I have three older brothers. And a dad who's also in the Army. I can and I will. But if they don't listen, I can have my dad talk to 'em."

"Who's your dad, anyway?"

"Brigadier General Richard Narvaez."

"Oh shit, your dad's my dad's boss," the boy stated while laughing as he began to fix himself up, getting ready to leave, pocketing Alina's card. "I'll definitely be calling you soon." He then sobered up and pointed at his arm. "Thanks for this. This is genuinely really cool and I'm glad you guys are doing your best to help people. I personally think that you guys are gonna help so many veterans and I'm excited for the day this baby," he pointed at the prototype with his thumb, "gets to be used by hospitals. I just hope they don't capitalize on it."

"I'll make sure they won't," Alina promised. "Capitalism is for pussies."

"Hell yeah." The boy proceeded to give her a fist bump before finally leaving the labs, eyes trained on his arm that looked like it was never injured at all.

Alina watched him as he left, a smile on her face as she thought about his words. She and Helen really were about to change the world; they were set to help people regardless of their backgrounds, regardless of their injuries. They were going to help, and that's all they want.

Glancing towards Jack who was laughing with Tony and Bruce as they helped him make his own volcano—Bruce seemed to be in charge of making the actual volcano while Tony was preparing the ingredients—she felt her heart beat faster as she suddenly imagined how Jack would turn out to be when he gets older.

Talking to the teenage boy, it made her realize that all she wants is for Jack to be happy, to live the life he wants to live, with no expectations or anyone else's opinions weighing him down. He can be whoever he wants to be, may it be to become a scientist or an FBI agent. But the question is not whether he'll be happy in the future, or what he'll eventually become.

The real question is: Would she be there to watch him grow?

Alina sighed as she plastered on a smile for the next volunteer, all while her mind wandered back to Aaron Hotchner who was all the way in Pakistan.

She has a lot of thinking to do. But why does it feel like she was running out of time?

author's note: this was a bit of a long chapter that kind of had me stumped ?? like, it's kinda difficult to plan out what happens during the time hotch was in pakistan and i'm just praying to whoever's out there that this makes sense and this adds to the story. i hate how he was gone for so long with no explanation lmao.

hope you guys liked this update!! most of the upcoming chapters will just be filled with alina being uncertain and indecisive. i hope you guys understand that it makes sense for her not to make up her mind easily because of what she's gone through; it's one of the reasons why i'm trying to write as many things that will provide explanations as to why she's the way she is so you guys don't come at me for how i've written her. 

poor girl's just very confused, and she might make choices that won't make sense to anyone but herself. but one of the things everyone has to understand is that alina makes choices based of variables; she has a scientific mind. it may be irrational to some people, but it makes sense for her. 

i just felt like i had to explain that, because i know exactly how she feels. in a different context, but pretty much the same situation.

i'll see you guys in the next update!!