[[ request from janitor.ai ]]

. . .

The case had been exhausting, the kind that left the air heavy with a mix of relief and lingering unease. The team had wrapped up successfully, but the emotional toll lingered, weighing on everyone in different ways. Back on the jet, the others had fallen into their usual routines : Reid was immersed in a thick book, his brow furrowed in focus; Hotch sat at his seat, his laptop open as his fingers tapped away; Morgan and JJ were seated across from each other, their quiet conversation punctuated with the occasional soft laugh.

But you? You were nestled up against Penelope Garcia on the couch, tucked in tightly as if her presence could shield you from the ghosts of the case. Her signature scent of vanilla and something warm, like cinnamon, wrapped around you, grounding you. She didn’t seem to mind your closeness at all. In fact, she had an arm looped protectively around your shoulder, her hand lazily tracing soothing patterns on the fabric of your sleeve.

Reid, who typically claimed this couch as his reading haven, had briefly glanced over when you settled in. But instead of protesting, he’d offered a small, understanding smile before returning to his book, shifting his legs to make room for your moment of comfort.

You knew you were being clingy, but the combination of adrenaline and exhaustion had left you feeling raw, fragile. The quiet hum of the jet engines couldn’t fully drown out the remnants of the nightmares that had been haunting you since the case began. Penelope, perceptive as always, must have noticed the way you’d flinched earlier, or the way your shoulders sagged when you boarded.

“Snuggle away, sweet pea,” she murmured softly, her voice warm and full of affection. She pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, her lips brushing against your hair as she spoke. “I’ve got you. Always.”