HOTCH WAS prepared to console Astra, to tell her that everything was okay and they would track down Enzo Clarke before she knew it — justice would be served and she would be safe — but when he was met with an empty silence as the girl was struck into something of a dazed state, he wasn't quite sure what to do.

No matter how many times he repeated, "Astra, what can I do to help you?" She refused to respond. Rather, her eyes were glued to the table like she was a child being scolded, unable to meet the eye of the parent who was doing so.

In her delirious state, Spencer Reid had taken her to the break room, allowing her to dwell in her thoughts — though there really weren't any other than absolute denial — as he poured her a cup of coffee and placed a blueberry muffin before her. "Derek told me you haven't eaten breakfast. You need food to stay strong." He said, sliding into the seat next to her, his own coffee mug in his hands.

Her eyes broke away from the table to look at him, she smiled ( albeit rather painfully-looking ) at his kindness and then, in a choked voice she spoke, "I want to see a photo."

"A photo?" He repeated in disbelief, like he wasn't quite sure he'd heard her right.

"I won't believe it until I see a photo of my grandpa. I know Hotch has one." Her voice was slowly rising, threatening to spill into a yell, "I want to see it."

Spencer hadn't reacted the way she'd thought he would. Rather than pulling together his brows and shooting her a concerned glare, saying that no person really wants to see it, dismissing her request as nothing but a coping mechanism which she would take back in twenty minutes time, when she'd processed it all. Instead, he took a moment to think, before responding in a way that could've convinced the girl he knew exactly how she felt. He thought for a moment at her request, the gentle smile still on his lips — not a grin, but something more comforting which told her he was there, he'd listen to her. "I understand how unexpected this is. But are you sure you'd want to see that?"

She chewed on her lower lip, she wouldn't believe Kai had killed her grandpa unless she saw it. In some fucked up sense, she still had faith in him. He wouldn't jeopardise her role, or risk her turning on him at such a critical moment, would he? "I just. . . Don't believe he's dead. I'll stay like this until I see it, I know I will." I've done this before, she wanted to add.

"It'll haunt you forever, Astra." He warned, in a way that conveyed both understanding and weariness. A way only Spencer could make not sound condescending. "But I'll ask Hotch, for you."

Her eyes met his in a short glance, had they always been such a warm hazel? She'd never felt so much trust in a person as she did in that moment. He'd get Hotch to show her, he would.

Ten minutes later and Aaron Hotchner came into the break room, weariness in his step and caution as he sat down next to her. "What I'm about to show you won't be easy."

She was going to throw up, Astra could foresee it now, but she still didn't believe he was dead. Kai wasn't stupid enough to risk that. The screen turned towards her; it was a series of photos, all rather pixilated but the culprit was undeniable — Enzo Clarke in all his glory — stood over an elderly man. In the next shot, he was hung from the ceiling, his lifeless body dangling a few feet above the ground, medical equipment on the floor and an unsettlingly peaceful aura surrounding him.

But when Hotch zoomed in on his face, the girl could once again feel the rise of bile in her throat. For it was a disgusting scene — bloodied and battered was the elderly man, whose face she didn't dare look at — when her eyes finally found the courage to meet his on the screen, she fought to hold back ( as fucked up as it was ) a smile.

Well, he wasn't her grandpa, that was for sure.

But the warning was still there "I can do what I want and frame it on someone else". He was taunting her, telling her she hadn't got things done quick enough, she was the reason behind the collateral damage.

It had been a good few moments since she'd inspected the scene, and yet, Hotch had seen no change in her demeanour. She had to act fast — fucking hell, Astra, act distressed! Though she didn't have to try particularly hard, she was distraught, after all, Kai Walker was sending her a dead man as a threat.

Her hyperventilating was believable enough, seeing as Spencer, who was on the opposite side of the room, came rushing over to her, as did Hotch. But she knew she couldn't keep it up, she'd run out of breath soon, or start laughing, like she often did in unexpected situations.

Over their muffled words, she did the one thing she thought would put an end to her having to make choices for that day. She really just wanted a nap. Observing her surroundings, she pondered on the question, what was the quickest way to pass out? Without a second thought, her body was leaning quickly and her head bashed against the corner of the table.

Then everything went black.

When Astra Hart woke up, there was a bandage around her throbbing forehead ( which still hadn't recovered from the bottles of wine from the previous night ) and a blanket pulled over her as she lay on her sofa, whilst two agents paced her apartment.

"You're awake," JJ breathed in relief, swiftly moving to the girl. "No, no don't get up just yet. You hit your head pretty bad."

Morgan was more hesitant in his approach, but the way his dark eyes softened and his hands nervously twitched at his side whilst he observed the roughed-up girl did more than any words could.

"What happened?" She asked, because for a minute, she truly couldn't remember why she was even there.

"Hotch showed you. . ." Her voice trailed off as Astra whispered a quiet, oh. Silence overcame the trio. "I'll get you some water. Spencer wrapped up the muffin he gave you, if you still want it."

With an appreciative nod, she went to grab the muffin, her stomach rumbling more than she cared to admit, though she was sure everyone in the flat had heard it by that point. Before she could reach it however, Derek Morgan had moved to the floor beside her. "I'll do it." He offered as he tore the muffin up for the girl, placing it in her hands piece by piece. She wished for a moment to get lost in that scene, where there was nothing but pure caring in his demeanour, something she knew she wasn't deserving of.

But good things couldn't last forever, and when JJ returned with a glass of water, she felt — albeit reluctantly — the need to kill the gentle moment. "There's a manhunt out for Enzo, Astra." She began, Derek did his best to not react, still breaking apart the muffin for the blonde girl, whose eyes were now wide in disbelief. She needed to be calm, so why did everyone keep alarming her? It wasn't good for her health.

"How long?" JJ shot her a curious look, "how long until he's arrested, I mean."

"Garcia is doing everything she can to track his location. We can't be certain because he's gone into hiding. But the evidence is piling up. What with your testimony and people from the gang turning in evidence against him, everyone's gone against his command, he's ruined. He'll figure that out soon enough and we'll get him when he does." She assured the girl.

In barely a whisper she replied, "I really hope you do."

There was another bout of silence before JJ was swept away with a phone call, hushed words from her kitchen told her that the agents were needed back at Quantico, duty never stopped! But when she returned to the scene between Morgan and Astra, his hand softly caressing her golden blonde hair, she figured what was one day off? "I have to get going. Morgan, they told you to stay a while."

He said nothing but nodded as she let the apartment, his gaze still locked onto Astra, like it had been since the moment they met. "You know you're safe, don't you, Astra?"

Her eyes flickered open and met his in a conflicted gaze. She didn't know if she should tell him he was a liar, or kiss him until she passed out. She opted for a small hum, instead.

"I'll stay with you, here. If you want." His tone was cautious, unlike it had ever been. There was a shift in the way they acted towards each other that just kept growing, like even their words knew something had changed between them in the short time they'd known each other. A mutual understanding that had been developed through their forced companionship.

Her hand gently rested on his own, "please do. I don't want to be alone anymore."

She couldn't quite tell you when exactly she fell asleep that night, but when she awoke, she was in her bed, tucked under countless blankets, and Morgan in a chair next to her, his head laying on the mattress, hand in hers.

She truly wished she'd taken a photo of the scene, or at least relished in it for just a bit longer. But when she saw the clock's handles at 10, she figured she'd do what she'd wanted to the previous morning and make him apology pancakes.

An apology for what she'd done and what she was going to do.

She shivered as her bare feet collided with the hard wood floor — she couldn't quite remember where she'd put her slippers the previous night — why was it so cold in her flat?

As she made her way into the kitchen, she caught sight of a pair of slippers peaking around the island corner. But they weren't just laid out on the floor, no.

Someone was in her apartment, wearing her slippers.

Someone she'd forgotten completely about in all of her blissful ignorance. "How have you been?" Phoenix Carter asked in a hushed voice, careful not to wake the agent in the other room, he drew closer to her. "I've missed you."

She couldn't contain her anger anymore, absentmindedly forgetting about Derek Morgan asleep in her bedroom, she did the one thing that could bring her satisfaction in a moment like that.

She slapped him.

authors note.
love astra