Chapter Text
“I’M SICK OF THIS”
Aaron yelled, banging the table with force. The timber gave a pitiful whine under his palm and Kathy/Sylvia jerked in fright. From the corner of his eye, he saw Prentiss giving him a worried look. That was more forceful than necessary. Regardless, she went back to their good cop/ bad cop play.
Aaron felt his ears flame in anger. This, this, worthless, pitiful woman was just sitting in front of him, acting innocent while a little girl’s life was hanging on the line.
“WHERE ARE YOUR HUSBAND AND SON?” he yelled, jerking the omega’s attention away from Prentiss. Inwardly, Prentiss bristled. Hotch was taking it too far. They needed to alternate seamlessly between bad alpha cop and good, gentle alpha cop, but Hotch was putting too much pressure. The omega would crumble, she could feel threatened and withdraw, refusing to confide in Prentiss, as they had originally hoped. But Hotch lacked patience. He lacked the patience to follow a script. Not when a girl was waiting to be rescued.
He pulled out their file while Prentiss coddled the woman. He laid the pictures out in front of her, describing each victim in gory details. He pushed each picture in front of her face, the evidence of what her bloodline was capable of.
“I-I don’t know what that is”, the omega spoke in a small voice.
Aaron marched around her, lifting her chair and pushing her towards the table. “Then look CLOSELY!” The omega gave a whimper and Prentiss almost rose from her chair in concern. “You don’t recognize your own mother and father?”
Hotch moved away, trying to recollect his composure. He could hear Prentiss reasoning with the omega in the background, practically begging the woman to confess. This was demeaning. Two Alphas shouldn’t have to beg a lowlife criminal for information to be able to save a child.
Hotch whirled around, eyes red, his chest puffing with anger. Prentiss knew a feral alpha when she saw one. Hotch was about to use his Voice on her. She reached out, trying to subdue him but it was too late.
“You will tell us and you will tell us NOW”, he screamed at her, using a tint of his alpha command.
The omega crumbled, whimpering and sobbing. Submitting. “Morris Collins”, she whispered.
Prentiss shook her head at Hotch’s actions. That was a deplorable abuse of Alpha powers. She was angry at him but she needed to compartmentalize her anger. Their first priority was still ensuring the safety of the victim. She saw Hotch level his glare at the omega, who continued shivering under his gaze. She caught his forearm, half dragging him out of the room.
Anger and disappointment was written on all of her colleagues’ faces. But they pushed it away to do their job.
The tension was palpable, later in the jet. Hotch was seated by himself, his gaze focused on the paperwork in front of him. There's silence, interrupted only by the sound of pens scratching over paper. Morgan, Prentiss and JJ are quietly working on their closing report, surreptitiously stealing glances at their pack Alpha.
Hotch has not been the same since Haley. Even before her death, he was a tad distant. Their separation took a toll on him but as long as she was alive, it wasn’t anything of concern. But then she died, in the most tragic way possible. And suddenly, Aaron Hotchner wasn’t the same man anymore. His smile – however rare they were – were a thing of occurrence, now, they were obsolete. None of them could recount the last time they saw him smile.
Rossi assessed the agents in front of him. Morgan and Prentiss were Alphas. Their pheromones, mated as they were, was mild. Morgan had Penelope and Prentiss had JJ. He couldn’t smell anything but collectedness from Morgan and Prentiss but JJ, she reeked of fear. Rossi sighed. This wasn’t healthy for their team.
He closed his folder, quietly making his way to Aaron. The man looked up from his paperwork once the secondary pack Alpha took his place before him.
“Did you have anything to say?” Aaron asked, after Rossi just spent a few minutes sitting in silence.
“I know a lot has happened, Aaron. I understand. But you can’t keep having outbursts like this on the field”.
Aaron closed his folder, giving Rossi his full attention. “We caught the unsub. Actually, no. We potentially have more people out there kidnapping omega children, killing their parents and forcing them to become unwilling child brides. So even if I was harsh, it’s a job left incomplete. You saw what they did. You saw the way they killed those parents and brainwashed those omega children. Its outrageous. What was I supposed to do? Coddle the woman and wait for her to give me the answer while her husband and child did unspeakable things to that girl?” By the end of his rant, Aaron was seething. He regained his composure, picking up the folder and getting back to his job. “I did what I had to do. And a girl lives for it. Don’t expect me to make any apologies.”
Rossi sighed. If there ever was a clearer dismissal, he hadn’t heard it.
Aaron was devolving. He was spiralling. And there wasn’t much they could do to stop it. Unless someone interfered soon.
Which, as it was, didn’t take long for to happen.
“Come in”, Erin Strauss answered.
She knew, even before he walked in, that it was Hotch at her door. His knocks were distinct, clear and loud. The man entered, shutting the door behind him. Erin took off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. She knew she was going to need a Tylenol after this conversation.
“Have a seat, agent”
Aaron sat, straightening his tie and folding his hands on his lap. He looked at her directly, waiting for her to speak.
“How are you doing, Aaron?” she asked. It seemed like a good tangent to start what was going to be a very difficult conversation.
Aaron narrowed his eyes at her.
“Optimal”.
Erin sighed. “Aaron, I am going to be honest with you. You lead one of strongest, most efficient units at the FBI. Your team is the last in my list of concerns. And I am utterly thankful to you for that. But of recent, there have been changes in your demeanour that are displaying worrying patterns.” She paused, letting him soak up her words. He didn’t reply, only tilted his head slightly to a side.
She continued. “The recent case, the Romani Family. I have viewed your interrogation tape. Was the display of Alpha authority really necessary?”
“I was doing my job.”
“No, Aaron. You weren’t. You almost used your Voice to subdue the woman. This isn’t the 19th century, Aaron. Law enforcement can’t use dominance to get a confession. It’s illegal and the defence can have the whole case thrown out.”
“I did what needed to be done”, Aaron spoke through his teeth.
“No, agent. You behaved unprofessionally. Your job isn’t just catching criminals. Its ensuring that you do so in a manner that is fit with the law so that all your hard work bears some fruit and the criminal stays behind bars.” She reminded him, raising from her chair. She placed her hands on the table, leaning over the man. Physically, she towered over him. But the way that Aaron relaxed back into the chair and continued glaring at her was intimidating. A lesser alpha would submit. But Erin Strauss was no lesser alpha. “Do you have idea of how much resource goes into each case? I expect that you do. Because you are the one who spends nights in the office making yearly cost report sheets. Imagine spending all that money, all that resource, catching the criminals and then losing the case in court because you couldn’t control yourself in the interrogation room. Do you think the DA will care that you ‘done your job’, when a jury decides that Kathy Gray’s confession is void because of the use of Alpha dominance?”
Aaron looked away, clearly guilty. She gave him a moment to think and sat herself down.
“I know the toll it took on you after Foyet”. Aaron’s gaze snapped back at her at the mention of the name. “I know what an Alpha looks like when he is losing control. And you look every bit of it, agent. What has it been? A year since you had a partner? You must know how unhealthy that is for you.”
Aaron scoffed. “So what do you want me to do? Stick my knot down the first omega or beta I find?”
“No.” Erin replied coldly, putting her specs on her nose and pushing the file towards Aaron. “I think you know what to do.”
Aaron maintained eye contact with her as he snatched the folder, opening it. He looked down at the form.
#4799 Application for Government Facilitated Mating Program.
“Absolutely not”, Aaron says, tossing the folder back on to the table.
“You do not have a choice, agent.” Erin reminds, pushing the folder towards him. “This is a direct order from the Director. I suggest you take the day off, go to the Alpha, Beta, Omega Services Offices across the avenue and file your application. This is in your best interest, should you wish to continue your job at the FBI. Or for that matter, anywhere at all.”
He glares at her for a full minute before taking the file and walking off. The door slams so hard, the walls rattle.
Erin reaches into her drawer, pulling out her box of Tylenol.
Spencer’s legs are shaking a mile a minute.
He’s seated in front of the Associate Dean’s office. His folder, thick with his accomplishment, is being crushed under the weight of his anxiety. The folder is the only thing keeping Reid from twining and untwining his hands. It’s a nervous habit he can’t seem to get rid of. Especially now, when he is faced with the biggest career turn of his life.
He has three PhDs, three BAs, much more than most staff can claim. But he’s been stuck as the position of Assistant Professor for the past three years. Even when he has been teaching courses that tenured professors do. Even when he has been publishing articles at a higher rate than the rest of the Mathematics department combined together. Gorgetown pays him well. Well, well enough to keep paying for his mother’s expensive treatment at the Bennington Sanatorium.
But now, he has finally applied for the position of Associate Professor. If he gets through, and there are practically no grounds for dismissal, he will be a tenure track professor. Moreover, he will finally be able to push for the creation of an Intradisciplinary Sciences Department. It’s the first of its kind in America, where students will earn specialized degrees with equal focus in soft and hard science. It makes no sense to keep teaching chemistry, physics, biology, mathematics, and other subjects in isolation from soft sciences. In the real world, the subjects don’t exist in a vacuum. Universities need to teach philosophy with equal vigour as organic chemistry. Students should be encouraged to research in multidisciplinary sciences. It’s a fruitful endeavour.
Spencer has prepared this speech for six months now. He has been reciting the importance of his ground-breaking idea in front of the mirror every other day. He can do this. He can impress the deans. He can get this job.
“Dr. Reid?” the kind assistant of the Associate Dean calls for him. “They’re ready for you”.
He holds the door open while Spencer slips in. Upon entering, he is assaulted by the smell of Alphas. The Dean herself is an Alpha. The man seated next to her, who Spencer remembers briefly from his interview, is a Beta in charge of recruitment and human resources. The other two Alphas are the Deans of the Mathematics and Chemistry schools.
“Please have a seat, Dr. Reid”.
Spencer sits, taking off his satchel and dropping it by the foot of the chair. He opens his folder, preparing to take out the copies of the fact sheets he has prepared.
“Thanks for meeting with me. As you can see here, I have drawn up some hypothesis based on possible growth of higher education in the US based on current projections, being cognizant of the crippling student debt and the gradual withdrawal of government budge-”
“Dr. Reid. Please. Give us a moment to speak”, the Dean, Dr. Myers interferes gently.
Spencer pauses, the papers lying on his lap awkwardly. He shakes his head so that his hair can move away from his eyes. He looks at them expectantly. Dr. Myers shares a look with the human resource personnel who nods at her and looks at Spencer with sympathy.
“Dr. Reid. Thanks for meeting with us today. I am Mark Crawford from Human Resource.” Reid nods at him in greeting. “Dr. Reid, as you would know, you are one of our most accomplished professors in the entire university. Your experience speaks volumes and your students have consistently left positive reviews of their learning experience. Under normal circumstances, we would have offered someone of your calibre a higher position years ago but-”
Spencer winces. But. Of course. There has to be a precondition. And even before the man speaks, he knows where this is headed.
“-as a university that is funded in large parts by a religious institution, we have obligations we need to adhere. We cannot extend a higher position than an assistant professor to an unmated Omega.”
Spencer gapes at them. He looks at each face in the room and though they sport various levels of discomfort, they are all united in their agreement that he cannot rise among the ranks unless he has a knot up his hole. Spencer wants to scream. He wants to throw things at them. He wants to rage at the unfairness of it all.
He has more qualification than any of them. He has more published work than all of them combined together. Dr. Myers’ doctoral thesis was rudimentary, at best. Her thesis sits in a folder in Spencer’s office with tabs after tabs marking inconsistencies in them. And the Deans of his school? They come to him for scientific advice. But they all get to sit above him. Not because they are better. But because they have knots.
“Dr. Reid, I know this is unfair.” Dr Myers intervenes, once the Omega starts smelling of distress. It’s a strong smell, one they are able to discern even if they aren’t his mate or pack members. “I want you to know that I have personally exhausted every option. I would love to give you the position and I know there is merit in your proposal of setting up a new department. I have even begun the process of sanctioning funds of the renovation of 118B building for the department. We want this just as much as you.” She sends out calm calm calm through the room, hoping it has an effect on the Omega.
Spencer considers her words. He had seen two contractors loitering outside the abandoned building. There were fences put up around it. Perhaps Dr. Myers was telling the truth. He doesn't want to give up now. Not after all that he had to do to be able to come so far.
“Is there anything I can do?”
Crawford holds out a folder towards him and Spencer accepted it tentatively.
“We wouldn’t force you to do anything. But we would recommend you give this a try, Dr. Reid”, Dr Myers says. But her words are lost. Because Spencer is too busy panicking over the form in front of him.
#4798 Application for Government Facilitated Mating Program.
The rest of the meeting passed by in a blur. Spencer was horrified. They wanted him to mate. With an Alpha. Not for love or companionship. But for a job. It was humiliating.
But it was his last option. He really wanted this job.
The East Coast, notwithstanding the present predicament, was much more acceptive of Omegas than the rest of the country. Certainly better than Nevada, that’s for sure. Despite his degrees, Georgetown was one of the only universities offering him a full-time academic job with his own lab and ample funds for research. Academia wasn’t as easy as people thought it was.
The new position would also bring in more money. He would be able to spare more expenses for his mother. For now, what he had was enough. But her condition was deteriorating with age. Her medical expenses were only bound to go up. And he needed to be prepared for that.
His feet guided him numbly towards the metro. He had the map of D.C, Virginia and Maryland memorized. He walked lifelessly into the Services Offices. He slipped the filled application through a glass window and was guided to take a picture. He managed to look up at the camera as it flashed his picture. Then, he went into a room to give his blood and a scent sample.
When it was all over, Spencer moved to a washroom and emptied his stomach.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Application ID 7112489 - #4799 outcome.
Mr. Hotchner,
We are pleased to inform you that we have matched your blood and scent sample to applicant number 8349027. The applicant’s information is provided below. You are requested to contact them no later than 29th April. You are requested to contact [email protected] to schedule a mating and wedding appointment. If you wish to have a private ceremony, you are requested to present proof of mating via a government accredited source. For more information, please visit: aboservices.us/mandatedmating.com
Applicant 8349027
Dr. Spencer Walter Reid.
D/o/b: October 12, 1995.
Email: [email protected]
Phone: +1 459 9899
8349027.jpg.
Regards,
Samantha Walters,
On behalf of office of Alpha Affairs.
US Government.