Criminal Minds Fanfic

by spinner

Maps

3/4/5/6 could be skipped - fluffy stuff

serious action picks up again in 7

1    2    3    4    5   6   7   8   9   10   11   12   13

Epilogue

“I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be.”  

— Douglas Adams

 1

“I knocked downstairs but you didn’t hear me,” Morgan said. 

Reid leapt up off the settee, dropping the book he had been reading.   Morgan caught it for him, put it back in his grip.  Derek was remembering with a small grin the great big squeak of joy Reid had emitted when he had first slipped the rare edition of Edmund Spenser’s “The Fairie Queene” into Reid’s hands.   Reid’s happy squeak had made Prentiss tear up.  Spencer didn’t stop hugging both of them for hours it seemed.  He put a one-armed hug Morgan’s neck now, collected himself and his treasure, and sat back down again. 

“What would make you drive all the way down here from DC on a Friday afternoon off?” Reid asked. 

“I see you’ve gotten the new place well situated.”

“No.  This is the only room that is set up.  The rest of them are a shambles behind closed doors, except the map room.  I’ve been sleeping in this room, actually.   Haven’t put the new bed together.  This room has the best light.  I may put my bed in here, actually, and put another bed in the bedroom.”

“Let me pretend I’m surprised you took care of the maps and books first,” Morgan mused.  “I brought some recommendations for house painters, like you asked.”

Morgan slipped Reid several name cards, and Reid shuffled through them.  He set the ancient book delicately on the settee and touched it lightly, affectionately. 

“I swear you looked in the real estate listings under ‘rural Virginia’ and ‘haunted houses’.  This place is creepy from the outside.  The faster you get it painted, the better, especially with autumn setting in,” Morgan teased.  “And there are boards on the front porch that are going to need to be replaced in the spring.”

“I like the house.  It spoke to me,” Spencer replied. 

“It suits you,” Derek answered.   He was mainly concerned about Reid being out here all by himself in this big house.  It was too much space for one person on his own.  But Morgan understood that the mortgage on the house had been the same amount as the rent on Reid’s small apartment in the city, and the house was three times the square footage plus a yard and some land as well.  Morgan understood Reid was being practical. 

“Are you hungry?  May I cook you some lunch?”

“Why don’t I take you out to lunch?”

“Why don’t you tell me why you’re really here?” Reid smiled. 

“Why don’t you believe I came about the painters?”

“Why come all this way when you could have messaged me the names?”

“Why do you find it so hard to trust people?”

“Is he waiting downstairs?” Reid asked.

“What?”

Reid chuckled, stuffed the name cards into his trouser pocket, and raced for the stairs.  Morgan followed swiftly.  Spencer hopped down the rickety steps, nearly missing the one on the bottom that turned the corner and shot out into the foyer and dining room, aiming towards the front door.  Reid’s left leg was back to normal, but he was still about as graceful as a wounded gazelle.  Morgan caught him by the arm and brought him to a halt before he was halfway across the creaking wooden floor.  Sadness overtook Derek’s face.

“Hotch isn’t back yet.”

“Oh,” Reid sighed.   He deflated physically as his happiness dissipated.

“Which is why I am here in person, because I don’t want you moping around in this big strange place all weekend, feeling miserable and alone.”

“Thank you,” Spencer smiled and hugged Morgan again.   Derek might have been annoyed by the astounding proliferation of open affection from any other person, but from Reid, it was readily-accepted, even welcomed.   Funny how being abducted at gunpoint and threatened for three days with almost-certain death had made Reid so much more demonstrative about his feelings with his BAU family.  Morgan knew Reid would calm down soon and revert back to his normal, guarded, secretive self, but for the moment, Derek was enjoying Reid being so open.  He was like a happy puppy who wanted to lick your face every time you came in the room.   

“I’m here to bring you back to Garcia’s for lunch this afternoon.  Everyone else will be there too, except for JJ, who is in the air to Montana to join Hotch,” Derek explained. 

“Must be more serious than Hotch thought then,” Reid commented, turning to a tall thin table in the foyer, picking up his phone from the charger and his house keys as well.  “I need to toss out some bread first.  It will only take a second.”

Morgan followed Reid through a long hallway towards the light-filled, brilliant green, extremely-gaudy kitchen.  It figured that the one room in the old farm house that had been modernized would be the kitchen.  Reid snatched a loaf of bread from the cupboard, untwisted the tie, and opened the back door, tossing piece after piece out into the area of the yard behind the back stoop.  Morgan opened the cupboard and found ten more loaves of bread, and one box of Cheerios.  He closed the cupboard door, smiling to himself. 

“Who are you feeding?” Morgan asked. 

“Woodland spirits,” Reid replied, putting the plastic wrap into the recycling bin and tossing the twist-tie into the jar by the door. 

“Elves and fairies?” Morgan worried.

“I meant forest creatures in a more corporeal sense, but anyone is welcome,”  Reid said.  “Waldgeist.  In many cultures, it’s customary to leave an offering for the sylvan spirits, and in exchange, they will watch over the house and bless it with good fortune.”  His voice trailing off as he stared into the backyard.  Derek was going to tease Spencer about the religious nonsense, but the way Reid was watching the barn concerned him.

“What is it?” Morgan worried, going for his gun, pulling Reid back from the open door and getting in front of him.

“By the barn.  Left side.”  

Morgan squinted into the distance at the shadow creeping along the ground beside the overgrown, dilapidated structure and the much-overgrown bushes that ran along the side.   The trees that arched over both sides of the driveway ran back beyond the barn as well, obscuring the area even more.  One could tell the bushes were moving, but not what was moving them.  Morgan put away his gun.

“Maybe a feral cat.  Maybe you should toss out dead mice instead of bread,” he recommended. 

“Remind me to buy cat food on the way back home tonight.”

“Don’t encourage the thing.  How do you know it’s not a mountain lion or something?” Morgan worried.

“It’s not a mountain lion.  It’s probably General Scott and his band of merry men,” Reid whispered a soft laugh.  “Remind me to get a key made.”

2

“Reid, when are you going to have a proper open house and invite us all down?” Garcia pressed. 

“Thanksgiving would be good,” Prentiss hinted shamelessly.  “You would save me from another boring year at my mother’s table, making nice with complete strangers.   I’ll bring berry cobbler.”

“Yes.  I’d like that very much, a great idea,” Reid nodded.  “I could have the place together by Thanksgiving.  That’s three weeks away.  Pencil it in,” he agreed. 

Rossi lifted his glass of wine in a toast, and everyone did the same, laughing together until Morgan returned to the open table.  He disconnected his call and sat down.

“We’re all having Thanksgiving dinner at Reid’s house,” Garcia said. 

“Okay.  I’ll bring…..something thankful,” Derek said distantly.

“What’s the matter?” Prentiss asked. 

“JJ made it to Montana.   She and Hotch have talked, and they agreed we should plan to fly out in the morning to join them there.”

Groaning went around the table.   Morgan was looking at Reid, and Spencer could feel there was more to be said because of his worried gaze.   Reid wondered what else had transpired between Morgan and Hotch.

“Way to kill the mood,” Prentiss sighed. 

“What do you know about the case?” Rossi asked Morgan.  Derek shrugged, taking a bite of fresh bread and following it with a chunk of steak.

“JJ slipped me a copy of the file before she got on the plane.  Park rangers found the bodies of two more hikers in Bitterroot National Forest.  The others were buried on the Idaho side of the forest.  These were on the Montana side.  The rangers are finally asking for our help.”

“Any specifics on the deceased?” Reid requested around a mouthful of rare steak.

“Oh, no, no, no, my babies.  There are two rules unbreakable rules at Penelope Garcia’s dinner table.  Everyone speaks the truth, and we do not talk about dead things,” Garcia protested as she wiggled a stern finger at them.  Morgan put down his silverware, picked up his glass. 

“Baby girl, this is important.”

“Okay.  I’m not listening though.  La-la-la-la,” Garcia replied.   Morgan picked up his knife and fork again, smiling only for her. 

“I promise to be delicate.  How to put this?” Derek wondered.  He chewed.  He wondered.   He chewed some more.  Reid cackled with sudden inspiration. 

“You don’t come here to hunt, do you?” Spencer asked.

Rossi laughed out.  Spencer grinned wider.  Morgan nodded.

“What?” Prentiss asked. 

“Why do I have to be the dirty old man?  Reid, you tell her the joke,” Rossi muttered, stuffing a bite of steak in his mouth.   Prentiss tossed one of her salad croutons at Rossi and took a bite of steak, waiting for Reid to finish chewing and wipe his mouth on a napkin. 

“In a nutshell, man goes into the woods, gets attacked by a bear, spends months recovering.  Man goes back into the woods, gets attacked a second time by the same bear, spends months recovering.  Same man goes back to the woods, gets attacked again by the same bear, the third time.  This time, the bear talks to him while he’s attacking him.  ‘You don’t really come here to hunt, do you?’ the bear says.”

“Attacked by a bear?” Prentiss puzzled.

“A talking bear?” Garcia added.

“You left out the part about how the hunter is shooting and killing other bears, and the talking bear is taking revenge for his friends.  The hunter is not ‘attacked’.  He is repeatedly molested by the same bear, who in the end comments on the fact he keeps coming back,” Rossi sighed.  “You really do fail miserably at telling jokes, Reid.”

“How does this gruesome tale of revenge and bestiality relate to our case?” Garcia asked. 

“The seven dead hikers were all attacked while having sex in the woods,” Morgan explained.   “It bears noting that they were same-sex couples.  Four women, three men.  Blunt force trauma to the head.  Buried in shallow graves.”

“Seven?” Reid exclaimed.  

“Well, as they weren’t hiking, and they weren’t hunting, can we agree to call them what they are?” Prentiss asked. 

“Nature lovers?” Rossi offered diplomatically, his face full of mischief.

“One plus one plus two plus one?  Nemophilia,” Reid supplied.  “A love of woods or forests, though not quite in the sense that you might mean.  Exhibitionism, though that doesn’t exactly cover it either.  An ecologist is a nemophiliac, and yet might never be an exhibitionist who has sex in the outdoors.”

“We get it, Boy Genius.   Explain the ‘one plus one plus two plus one’?” Garcia demanded.

“Can’t any of you count?  It’s an odd number of deceased,” Reid spoke with his hands, putting down his fork before he hurt himself with it.   “Wouldn’t you expect an even number of decedents, considering the state they were in when they became the dearly departed?”

“Two points to Reid.  Yes, there were two couples plus one ménage a trois,” Morgan nodded. 

“Now it’s getting interesting,” Garcia grinned playfully.  “We’re all adults here.  Show of hands.  How many of us have been in a threesome?”

“Only the truth,” Morgan insisted.   Garcia, Reid, and Prentiss raised their hands.  Morgan’s brows went up.  Rossi’s mouth was hanging open.

“Together?” Derek and Dave rasped as one.

“No,” Garcia corrected the assumption quickly.   “No, no, no, no, no.  Kevin, and me, and another role-playing guy at Comic Con once.  Emily?”

“Me and a boyfriend and his previous girlfriend.  I don’t recommend that to anyone, in case you’re curious,” Emily cautioned.  “Way too much emotional baggage involved.  Reid?  Your turn.”

“One plus one plus two plus one?” Reid stared at the ceiling, twisting his mouth to one side, thinking loudly.

“Ménage a quatre?” Garcia questioned.  “Ménage a cinq?”  

“At what point does sex with multiple partners become an old-fashioned orgy?” Prentiss asked Reid.

“Five,” Rossi decided.   “Four is nothing to get excited about.  It’s a swinging double-date.  You are all starting to worry me.  I feel so vanilla around you kids.  Isn’t anyone married, monogamous, and faithful any more?”

“JJ is,” Prentiss said.

“Not married, officially,” Garcia whispered. 

“Yeah, but, I mean, it’s a traditional relationship.  Boy plus girl plus baby equals the happily-ever-after, even without the ring and the church and the fanfare.  A ring does not mean ‘I Love You’, and the absence of a ring does not mean you don’t love someone,” Emily argued.  “You can love someone with all your heart and never be able to put a ring on their finger.”

“Reid, you never answered the question.  When were you in a ménage a trois?” Morgan asked. 

“I’m shocked you haven’t been, considering your track record,” Reid responded.

“You are so avoiding the question.  I prefer to give the ladies my undivided attention.  One lucky contestant at a time,” Derek purred.  Reid rolled his eyes, and Morgan laughed deeply.  “Jealous much, Pretty Boy?” he murmured. 

“Does this have anything to do with that starlet in L.A.?” Emily asked, trying to make light and keep them from going at each other with their cutlery.   She wasn’t going to bring up her own multiple-partner experiences with Reid and others, simply for the fact it might be more TMI than the others wanted. 

Reid’s face had changed.  He wasn’t smiling any more.  He was frowning, cringing in on himself like a twisted puppet, both knees clutched over one hand. 

“No,” Reid shook his head.  “Never got past first base with Lila.”

“Really?  I thought you were all over that,” Morgan puzzled.  “She was certainly all over you.”

“Maybe something about the pool?” Prentiss wondered.  “She prefers you soaking wet and out of breath?”

“I told you.  It was transference.  I won’t deny that I was sorely tempted, but it would have been wrong on my part to take advantage of her.  I wanted to, but, no.  Sorry to disappoint the both of you,” Reid said pointedly. 

“You okay?” Prentiss asked, touching his arm.   

“Taking the Fifth,” Reid murmured.  He emptied his wine glass in one large gulp, and then refilled it, unable to meet anyone’s gaze.  Reid shivered.  Morgan’s face went from worried to furious, and then guilt and sympathy took over.  He rubbed Reid’s arm and shoulder with one hand.  Garcia was biting her mouth closed for a second before she blurted out a stream of words which threatened to have no end. 

“No unhappy thoughts at my table.  I am by unhappy thoughts like I am by lies and dead things.  Unhappy thoughts may even rank lower than dead things as acceptable dinner conversation.  Happy thoughts only.  Reid, clear your mind.”

Spencer smirked, cleared his throat, sipping from the second glass of wine.

“I realize that it could take a few minutes.  We’ll wait.  In fact, everyone, join hands and clear your minds.  We need to fix this unhappy aura,” Garcia instructed, taking one of Rossi’s hands and one of Prentiss’s hands.  Rossi took Morgan’s hand.  Morgan took one of Reid’s hands.  Prentiss made Reid put down his wine glass and took his other hand.   

“I feel like we’re having a séance,” Prentiss smirked. 

“Shush,” Garcia said.   “Always remember that we are safe with each other.   You can always tell the truth, and you can also be assured that no one will judge you.  We’re family.  Family loves you, no matter what.  Close your eyes.  Let the unhappy thoughts drift away.  Think about bunnies.  Think about chocolate.  Think about being warm.”

“Think about marshmallow bunnies dipped in warm chocolate,” Prentiss teased.  She got a tiny smile from Reid, and that’s what she had been aiming for. 

“Think about being warm and safe in the arms of the one you love.  Think about them holding you, telling you without words how much they care about you.  Everything will be okay,” Garcia said as she watched Reid, her voice a little desperate and shaky.   He was staring down into nothingness down at the table, then raised his eyes longingly towards the wine glass again.  His cell phone rang.  He flinched.   He let go of Prentiss’s hand in order to take his cell from his pocket and put it to his ear.   Prentiss took Reid’s hand again because he was holding the phone between his neck and shoulder. 

“Hotch?” Spencer was so happy again, the misery of moments ago forgotten. 

Hotch was talking deep and low on the other end of the line.  The others could hear his voice but couldn’t tell what he was saying.  The polite thing to do would have been to put him on speaker, but Reid tilted his head to one side, holding the phone.  He wanted Hotch and that deep, velvet voice all to himself.

“You don’t want me to come to Montana?” Reid questioned.  His aura filled with sadness again.  He deflated physically, letting go of Morgan and Prentiss both.  “Why not?” he whined.

Garcia twitched and Morgan flinched.  Had she kicked him under the table?  Derek avoided Penelope’s stark glare. 

“Are…are…you sure you want ME to do that?  Um.  Okay.  I’ll give it my best.   What’s that?  The safe word.  White owl.  Can I point out that’s two words?  Okay.  I know.  I got it.  Emily?  Here she is.”

Reid gave Prentiss his phone.   He quietly left the table, taking his glass of wine with him.   Morgan followed him into the small foyer. 

“Kid, hey, I’m sorry if I pressed too hard,” Morgan whispered. 

Reid shook his head no.  Derek took away the wine glass and put it aside.  He carefully hugged Reid, putting both arms around his waist and holding him close.   Spencer hid his face in Morgan’s shoulder and fought back a shiver.  That first glass of wine had gone straight to his head.    

Garcia left the table.  Rossi was watching Prentiss talk to Hotch, and avoided looking at the exchange between Morgan and Reid.   Penelope came over to Morgan and Reid, hugging both of them together. 

“No unhappy thoughts,” she whispered.

“What’s said at the table, stays at the table,” Derek promised Spencer.  Garcia nodded vigorously.   “I can’t believe Gideon gave you football tickets for your birthday.”

Reid snorted softly, shaking his head.  He mumbled something softly in to Morgan’s neck.

“You never told him?” Morgan repeated.  Reid shook his head no.   

“Maybe I should have gone the other route, asked how many of us have had sex outdoors?” Penelope tried to chuckle. 

“Chablis Johnson,” Morgan murmured.   “Alley behind the apartment house.”

Garcia giggled softly.  “In the Tidal Basin with Kevin, spring last year.  At night, obviously.  I had cherry blossom petals all down my clothes when I got home.”

“That sounds very romantic,” Morgan smiled.

“Chilly as hell.  We were not in the water, obviously.  We were on a bench in the park, behind the trees, next to the Tidal Basin,” Garcia specified.

“That does sound chilly,” Morgan shivered.  “What about you?  Sex outdoors, ever?” he asked Reid, who pulled out of the hug and reached for the wine glass.   

“Gonna have to take the Fifth on that question too.   I need to be at Hotch’s house by 4:45,” Reid said, all business again. 

“You need to stop drinking,” Morgan insisted, taking away the glass.

“You’re right,” Reid nodded in agreement with him. 

“I’ll make some strong coffee,” Garcia soothed.

“Thanks,” Spencer said quietly.  

3

“Hi,” Reid said, giving a small wave as he jumped to his feet and rocked unsteadily from toes to heels.   Morgan had dropped him off on the Hotchner front porch all of five minutes ago.  He had barely had time to check his phone messages and make sure Hotch had not changed his mind about this before Aunt Jessica arrived with Jack.  Haley’s sister stared at Reid—she was not unfriendly, but she was clearly curious what he was doing there.   He was unsteady on his feet but hid it well. 

“Where’s Aaron?” she asked.  Jack was already bouncing out of the car from the other side.   He raced around and made as if to grab Spencer around the knees.  Reid backed off, stepping up a step even to get away, using one hand as a barrier.

“Hotch is in Montana.  Hasn’t returned yet.  Wait,” Reid said, backing up even further.  Jack stopped advancing and put down his school bag.  “Safety word,” Spencer insisted.

“White owl,” the little Hotchner beamed. 

“Jack, no.  You have to ask me the safety word.”

“But you already know it,” Jack replied with Aaron’s boyish grin. 

“You are not supposed to go with anyone, even someone you know, unless they can tell you your safety word.  Pick a new one.”

Jack thoughtfully studied Reid’s bright crimson tennis shoes and then moved his eyes to his own backpack before a serious look graced his small face.  

“I’m ready.  Try and guess,” the boy said.

“Red shoes,” Reid replied.  Jack laughed out loud, jumping on the step and snagging Reid with a hug around his upper thighs.   “Was I right?” Spencer hoped. 

“Nope,” Jack giggled, pushing in the front door and closing it behind himself.  He locked it as well.  Reid hung his head. 

“I’m so bad with kids.  Why did Hotch do this to me?” Reid mumbled.   Jessica was on the step with him by this point.  She carefully patted his shoulder, and put the key in the lock.

“It’s not a science.  It’s a learned art.  When will Aaron be back?”

“I’m not sure.  The rest of the team will fly out in the morning to meet Hotch in Montana.  He said I should stay here, assist by phone with the case, and help Jack with a big school project he has to have completed by the end of next week.”

“Why doesn’t Aaron want you in Montana?” Jessica asked diplomatically.  She had a certain knack for getting directly at an issue.   She did not mince words.  She did not always play nice but she did play fair.  That was probably why she and Hotch got along so well.  Aunt Jessica had not failed to notice how often Reid was in Hotch’s company these days.   Reid wondered if Jack had said anything to her about Spencer being around so often.  He hoped they were good things. 

“Because I guess I’m the last person Hotch wants combing a national forest where an unsub is killing non-heterosexuals?” Reid admitted.  “One of the rangers has been making homophobic slurs since he was assigned to the case.  It’s not a very friendly environment.  Maybe Hotch is afraid I’ll snap at the ranger and get myself hurt or something.”

Jessica smirked cheerfully at the straight truth, and Spencer saw more than a trace of Haley in that crooked smile.

“Aaron isn’t exactly subtle, is he?” she replied.   

“Bless his heart, but no,” Reid agreed.

“He means well.  He’s very protective of those he loves.  You’ll get used to it.”

Reid stared at his shoes and wasn’t sure what to say.  He avoided Jessica’s gaze.  She certainly did have a way of cutting through the bullshit.  She put a hand on his arm. 

“You two?  It’s not the best-kept secret.  Jack has noticed how much you make Aaron smile.   I’ve noticed too.”

“I….um….”

“Can we go see your new house?” Jack asked as Reid and Jessica came in through the front door into the residence.  Spencer looked to Jessica for permission as strongly as Jack did. 

“If you are okay with that?  I’ll give you the address.  The phone.  Whatever you want to know.”  

“Please, Aunt Jess?  Please???  I want to see Reid’s new house.  It’s haunted.  That’s what Miss JJ said.  Six bedrooms, three bathrooms, a brand new kitchen, and thirty ghosts.”

“It needs a coat of paint or two,” Reid explained to her frightened sideways glance.  “We’ll have to take a cab to get there.  I had wine with lunch.  I can’t get behind the wheel like this.”

“I’ll drive you,” Jessica offered. 

“Reid, can we stay awake all night and wait for the ghosts?” Jack pleaded. 

“You need to work on your school project,” Jessica insisted.  “I see no harm in going though.”

“Great!  I’ll get my go-bag!” Jack chirped, skipping upstairs. 

A large duffle came sliding down the steps seconds later.  Jack sat down, pushed it another step, scooted down, pushed it another step.   Reid went over and reached up the staircase to grab the handles.  The left one had been repaired.  This was one of Hotch’s old go-bags.  He smiled at the thought and lifted it to his shoulder. 

“It’s only twenty minutes from here,” Reid promised.   

“What’s for dinner?” Jack asked.  Reid went pale. 

“Are you going to need to stop by the grocery store on the way?” Jessica asked.   

Reid nodded. 

4

“Why are there pillows here?” Jack asked, pointing in the bedroom that was serving as the library because it had a wall of built-in shelves that ran floor to ceiling.

“I sleep here.”

“Why do you sleep here?”

“Because I haven’t put my new bed together yet,” Reid answered.  He sat down on the edge of the settee as a boatload of terrors hit him at once, not the least of which was where in the world Jack was going to sleep.

“What’s next door?” Jack asked, racing out of the library and into the next bedroom.  He stopped on his heels and gasped out.  “THIS. IS. SO. AWESOME!” he yelled, running inside and staring around.  Reid followed him. 

Every wall in the room was hung with a map.  Every square inch of space over the four walls, floor to ceiling, was covered.  Some maps were tacked up over others.  Other maps were stacked on the floor, presumably in front of the location where they could be unfolded for closer detail at a moment’s notice.  As one stood in the center of the room and turned slowly, it was as if the world was rotating.   The carpet was deep sea blue, and the ceiling was light blue and painted with fluffy clouds. 

“That’s my project!  How did you know?!  I’m supposed to draw a map for school!  A big map.  I have to draw a map, and wow, look at all of these!”

Jack ran straight to the map of the United States which dominated the wall opposite the door.  He reached as far up as he could manage. 

“There’s Montana!” he shouted.  “Where’s Dad?  Show me!” 

His fingers crawled upwards, attempting to touch the pin that was in place. 

Reid crossed the room and bent down, scooping Jack up into his grip and lifting him. 

“He’s here,” Spencer said, touching the blue pin.  “Bitterroot National Forest.”

“What about this one?” Jack asked, touching the green pin in Nevada.

“My mom lives there,” Reid said sadly.  “Las Vegas.”

“Las Vegas?  Does she live with Elvis?”

“Two of them,” Spencer nodded. 

“What about this one?” Jack said as he touched two red pins with rounded tops.

“That’s Washington.”

“Like DC?”

“We’re there,” Reid pointed to the other coast.  “This is Washington State.  It’s on the west coast, above Oregon, below Canada.  A friend of mine flew there last week.”

“Why would he go to Seee-telle?”

“See-at-elle.  Seattle.  She’s away on business.  You met her.  She read books to you.  Do you remember?”

“Julie?!” Jack asked.

“Yes.  Her,” Reid smiled softly. 

“We read books and ate popcorn.  Have you known her for a long time?”

“Yes,” Reid admitted.

“She asked me if you read to me too.”

“Did she?” Reid tried to smile. 

“Is that Heaven up there?” Jack pointed to the ceiling.

“It can be, if you like.”

“Is that Hell down there?”

“No.  Down there is the dining room,” Reid answered firmly.

“What are those?” Jack asked, parting two of the maps and peeking at the brown paper beneath.  

“Here there be dragons,” Reid whispered, eyebrows playing up and down.  He ducked under the edge of the biggest map, stepping backwards and lifting the map skyward so Jack could see the entire stretch of brown paper underneath.  The paper was covered with doodle after doodle of all manner of creatures, some imaginary and some quite real.   There were notes written there as well, probably the initial reason for the brown paper under the maps. 

Jack squealed.   “There’s hundreds of them!”

“If you’re interested, we can draw more later.  Homework first though.”

“What’s this one?”

“That’s Bob,” Reid said, tilting his head to one side.

“Yeah, but what is he?”

“I’m not sure Bob even knows what Bob is.”

“Bob needs more friends,” Jack decided. 

“Homework first,” Reid insisted.

“Here you two are.  I put away the milk,” Jessica said from the doorway.   Spencer wondered how long she had been standing there.  He turned halfway around as she gave a sad smile of bittersweet mirth.  Jack bit Reid suddenly and viciously at the junction of his neck and shoulder.  Spencer yelped in surprise and let go of him.  Jack leapt down out of his arms, racing across the room. 

“Why’d you bite me?” Reid gasped, holding his collarbone.   Jack hid behind Aunt Jessica, peering around her.    

“Daddy bites you,” Jack shrugged, racing away from Jessica and into the room next door.   She was hiding a snicker as well as she could.   Jack came running back, carrying a pair of pillows.  “Can I sleep in here tonight?”

“Wouldn’t you rather sleep in a bed?” Jessica asked.

“No,” Jack replied.  “I want to go camping, just like Dad.”

“I could build a tent for you,” Reid offered.    Jack cheered and dropped the two pillows he was holding in order to race out of the room in search of more.

“Good luck,” Jessica said, patting Reid’s arm.  “If you need me, call me.”

“Thanks,” Reid said, still rubbing his neck. 

5

“How are my favorite boys this morning?” Hotch murmured quietly.  “Did you have a good night last night?”

“I slept under the stars,” Jack replied. 

“You were sleeping outside?” Hotch worried, turning over the report in his lap.  He had been awake since four.  That would have been six in the DC area.  It was almost seven there now.  He shivered as he imagined how icy, wet, and cold the weather had been there when he had left on Thursday morning.   Had Jack and Reid really slept outdoors?

“Reid made a tent for me in the map room.  Gave me a zillion pillows and blankets.  When he turned out the lights, there were stars in the sky.”

Hotch imagined that those weren’t randomly placed stars, but that they were spread out in exact constellations.  He imagined Reid on a ladder with a protractor and compass, mapping out the ceiling and placing the glow-in-the-dark dots in perfect grid coordinates.

“Jack, buddy, why are you talking so softly?”

“Reid is sleeping.  He was up most of the night.  I heard thump, thump, thump, and drills too.   He was putting together furniture and moving around boxes.” 

“You answered Reid’s phone while he was sleeping?  Jack….”

“I was gonna make breakfast for him.  Does he like pancakes?”

“Jack, do not turn on the stove while Reid is sleeping.”

“Does Reid like pancakes?”

“Jack, what did I say?”

“Okay.  I won’t turn on the stove.”

“Can you reach the cereal?”

“Yeah.  There’s a step stool.”

“Can you reach the cereal bowls?”

“Yeah.  Reid hasn’t put away the dishes.  The bowls are clean in the dishwasher.”

“Okay.  Is there milk?”

“Yeah.  We went to the store last night.”

“Have cereal for breakfast then.”

“Did you know Reid likes Cheerios, just like you?” Jack asked.

“No, I did not.  What did you get at the store?”

“We got hotdogs, buns, milk, cat food, yogurt, soda, root beer, aspirin, Cheetos, bananas, chicken nuggets, mac and cheese, and more bread.”

“Cat food?” Hotch questioned.   “Does Reid have a cat?”

“I dunno,” Jack shrugged.  “I haven’t seen one in the house.  But Reid put some food in a bowl and set it on the back porch last night.”

Hotch could hear Jack unlocking the back door. 

“Jack,” he stressed.  “Close the door.”

“Ooooooh.  It’s empty,” Jack whispered.  “Should I put more food in the bowl?”

“Jack, close the door and lock it.”

Hotch listened for the snick and click, and sighed with relief when he heard it. 

“Hey, buddy?  Can you do me a favor?  Can you take the phone upstairs to Reid and wake him up?”

Something in the kitchen gave a teeny beep.  And another.  And another.

“Jack? What was that?”

“There’s a machine on the counter making lots of noise.”

“Go over to the machine and tell me what it says on it.”

“7.  A.  M.  On.  Four cups.”

“It’s a programmable automatic coffee maker.”

“I know Reid likes coffee,” Jack said happily.  “I’ll take him a cup.”

“Jack, don’t touch the coffee pot.  It’s very hot.”

“Well, duh….”

Hotch caught himself laughing.

“Hey mister.  Watch yourself.  Leave the coffee pot alone, and take the phone upstairs to Reid.”

“All right….” Jack said.  Hotch could hear creaking and squeaking as the boy made his way down the hall, turned into the foyer, and climbed the steps.   "There’s lights in the driveway,” he commented.  “A car?  Maybe a truck?”

“Jack!  Go wake up Reid!” Hotch said anxiously.

“Okay.  I’m going.  I’m going.  It’s a BIG staircase, DAD.  You gotta give me time to climb the damn thing,” Jack complained. 

“Hurry up,” Hotch insisted.  “And watch your mouth.”

“I’m at the top,” Jack said.  He thumped down the hallway.  Jack pushed inside the library (Hotch heard the door squeaking) and he crossed the room (Hotch heard his creaking footsteps).   There was a click (Jack turned on the lamp), and a low groan. “Reid?  Dad’s on the phone.  He sounds grumpy.”

“Mm…’ello?” Spencer whispered, mumbling. 

“REID?!  Why are you asleep?!” Hotch hollered.  He was delighted to hear Reid’s surprised yell.  He suspected Reid dropped the phone too. 

“There’s someone in the driveway,” Jack decided, peeking out the library window.  “He’s getting out of the truck.  He’s wearing a uniform.”

“Hotch?  Are you trying to give me a heart-attack?” Reid squealed into the phone.

“Are you awake now?” Hotch asked, keeping his voice steady and commanding.

“Yes!  Yes!  I’m awake!” Reid responded quickly.   Hotch could hear pounding on the front door. 

“I’ll see who it is!” Jack exclaimed. 

“Jack! Wait!” Reid called out.  “Shit….” 

“REID, GO CATCH HIM!” Hotch yelled, sitting up over the side of his bed and spilling his reports everywhere.   

“Good morning, General Scott,” Reid was saying in the background.  “Hotch?  Hotch?  It’s okay.  It’s General Scott.”

“Can I talk to Dad again?” Jack asked, taking the phone from Reid coming back on the line.

“Dad, it’s a guy in a uniform.  Is it okay to let him in?”

“Yes, Jack.  But keep an eye on him.”

“I will.  Bye then.”

“Bye, Jack.  Say bye to Spencer for me.”

“Who is Spencer?”

“Reid, Jack.  Reid is Spencer.  Say bye to Reid.”

Hotch calmed his heart and found his smile again.  He hung up the phone and got on all fours to pick up his reports.

6

Hotch called again twelve hours later.   Ostensibly, he asked Reid to keep an eye on the weather reports and call if anything changed dramatically.  He really called because he wanted to check up on them. 

“So what did General Scott want this morning?”

“Oh.  That.  Nothing to worry about.  He wanted me to know that Korsakova is away on business in Seattle and that Ekatarina is with her.   Which I already knew, as it is.  Apparently Scott’s got a tail on Korsakova now.  I don’t doubt Korsakova’s got a tail on his tail.  Maybe they should carpool,” Reid snickered. 

Hotch was quiet.  Reid’s quick snort of laughter faded away quickly to silence. 

“You’re sulking,” Hotch whispered.  

“I’m not sulking,” Reid answered. 

Hotch could hear Reid turning pages or lifting paper of some sort.   There was no delicate way to broach the topic foremost in both their minds at that second: Korsakova’s daughter.  Korsakova had told Reid that the girl belonged to the late and unlamented Viktor Davydov.  One look at the ten year old had convinced Hotch otherwise.  Reid had his doubts too, if his silence on the topic was any indication.  Reid would not bring up the topic, and Hotch didn’t want to bring up the topic (not after his private conversations with Prentiss in Dallas) so he kept his mouth shut too. 

Hotch had learned through various sources that Korsakova was being offered a position at Washington State University in Seattle.  Hopefully Ekatarina would like the arboretum out there almost as much as she had liked the one in DC, if Korsakova accepted the job.   Hotch was hoping very hard that Yulia wanted to go to Seattle.  Maybe Korsakova’s bosses felt her being in DC was going to create friction, and they wanted to avoid friction.  Or perhaps the job interview on the Left Coast had been Korsakova’s idea, because it probably had been very unnerving, having an angry FBI agent storm across a restaurant, unhitching his firearm and glaring daggers through you.   Either way, her sudden interest in Seattle was anything but a coincidence.

Hotch wanted more than anything to hear Reid speak, and not necessarily about Korsakova or her daughter, and so he went with a ready topic. 

“Reid, I need you to understand that making you stay at home is not a punishment.”

“Sure, it’s not,” Reid said, not bothering to hide his disappointment.  “Because  me watching weather conditions from here while you are all out there makes me such a productive and useful member of your team.”

“Reid, stop being snide.  How are you and Jack getting along?”

“I guess okay.  He bit me twice on the neck.  Most children outgrow biting at twenty-four to thirty-six months.”

“How do you know this?”

“I’ve been reading books on successful parenting.   I hoped they might prove useful,” he said grimly.  Hotch was so startled that he almost dropped the phone.  He wasn’t sure what to say.    Either Reid was admitting he thought Ekatarina was his, or he was doing this to understand Jack more.  Either way, it was an amazing step.  Hotch cleared his throat and opened his mouth, and Morgan paced by him again. 

“Anything in those books about why Jack bit you?” Hotch asked.  Morgan’s brows went up pretty high, and he quickly made himself scarce. 

“If I knew why he bit me the first time, there would have been no second time.  Have you been letting him watch vampire movies?”

“No.  I do not let my son watch scary movies.   Reid, I promise, I’m not punishing you.  I wanted you to help Jack with this map he has to do for class, that’s all.”

“Mm hm.”

“Okay, I was worried Ranger Rick here would make you go atomic, and I didn’t want to have to play hide and seek to find his dismembered body parts spread around the entire forest.  It’s over a million acres, damned hilly, and a hard day’s walk in any direction.  I remember how creative you were with the Easter eggs in the office last year.  I found another one only last week.  I thought I’d take the necessary precautions.  That’s all.”

“I am a professional, Hotch.  I can keep my temper in check.”

“I know you’re a professional, Dr. Reid.”

“Besides, you wouldn’t have found any body parts.  I’m better than that,” Reid purred wickedly. 

“I don’t doubt you think so,” Hotch chuckled.   “Is Jack asleep already?”

“He’s in the bathtub.”

“What’s he doing in the bathtub?”

“Bathing?” Reid suggested.

“You didn’t stay to help?”

“I’m pretty sure he knows his way around.  Not exactly comfortable with…that….”

“What?”

Hotch heard a door squeaking.  He promised himself when he got home, he was going to go through Reid’s new house room by room with a large can of WD-40.  He heard Jack’s voice in the background. 

“Targets spotted.  Ready weapons.  FIRE!!  FIRE!!  FIRE!!”

“Jack?  Your dad’s on the phone,” Reid said cautiously.  His voice sounded muffled. 

“DAD!” Jack shouted.  There was a good deal of splashing.   “Dad!” Jack shouted happily into the phone.  “Dad, we are having so much fun!  Reid’s house is super creepy!  We found a dead bird upstairs.  There are bats in the attic.  Lots of really old stuff too – books, pictures, clothes.”

“Ow,” Reid mumbled in the background.

“What was that?” Hotch asked.

“Reid bumped his head on the door.”

“Why’d he do that?”

“Because he’s got his eyes closed,” Jack replied.  “Dad?  When are you coming home?”

“It may be a couple more days or so,” Hotch answered.   It made him smile to think of Reid walking around the bathroom with his eyes closed because Jack was in the bathtub.   

“Did you find the bad guy yet?” Jack asked. 

“Not yet.”

“Can I help with the case?”

“Yes.  You can help me by not biting Reid.”

“You bite him.”

“It’s different when I bite him.”

“Can we keep Reid?  He makes good chicken,” Jack said. 

“That’s good,” Hotch said, wondering if it would come as a terrible surprise one day for his son to learn that chickens did not always arrive on the dinner plate as small breaded squares.   And then he backtracked to revisit the first remark, and he smiled. 

“We ate mac and cheese for dinner too.”

“I know how much you like that.”

“Reid likes it too.  He puts ketchup on his.  Well, not ketchup.  That stuff you put on tacos.”

“Salsa?”

“No.  The other stuff.”

“Hot sauce?”

“Yeah!  That!” Jack agreed.    “Did you know he can read books from across the room?”

“He can?”

“Yeah.  All I have to do is pick up a book, show him the front cover, and he can read it to me from way across the room.  Pretty cool, huh?”

“Pretty cool,” Hotch agreed. 

“He got mad at me this afternoon though.”

“Why?”

“I dunno.”

“Jack….”

“I asked him a personal question,” Jack whispered. 

“What kind of personal question?”

“No kind.”

“Jack….”

“I asked what he looks like without his clothes,” Jack whispered. 

“Son, that is really a VERY personal question, and you are never to ask that again.  Do you understand?   I’m not surprised he was mad at you.”

“Okay.”

“It’s not appropriate.”

“Okay,” Jack stressed. 

“Why did you ask him that?”

“I wanted to know if he looks like Mommy or looks like me.”

Hotch was quiet.  He was so not ready for that kind of question from a five year old.  But he couldn’t let it go unanswered.  Being curious about other people was not abnormal, and he didn’t want Jack to develop a complex and stop asking questions for fear of reprisals. 

“He looks like you,” Hotch replied gently. 

“Oh.  Okay,” Jack nodded.  He sounded puzzled.  

Hotch tried to imagine Reid from Jack’s point of view.  There were a lot of ways that Reid didn’t fit what a child might perceive as typical male gender characteristics.  There were several ways Spencer was much more feminine than masculine.  Reid was gentle and kind, timid and meek.  Submissive in his body language, unless you really pissed him off.   Obedient to Hotch, usually.   Reid was not a prototypical male.  He was thin and willowy like a super model, not muscular and aggressive like Hotch or Morgan were.  Reid had worn his hair long for a few years.  He also had beautiful features that were more feminine than masculine.   Hotch understood that those things all added together could be confusing to a small boy. 

Hotch did not bring people home all the time, so the significance of bringing Reid home had made an impression on Jack.   Even setting aside the three days that Reid had stayed with them before signing the contract on his new house, there had been other nights where Reid had been around when Jack went to bed, and he had been there when Jack woke up.  Jack wasn’t stupid.   If it was rare for Hotch to bring someone home, it was extremely rare that anyone would spend the night. 

Hotch remembered with a gulp that Jack had tiptoed into the kitchen one morning when his father had had his arms around Reid.  Before realizing his son was here, Aaron had been kissing Spencer on the neck, nibbling gently along his jaw and slowly up behind his right ear.  Spencer was in zombie mode, eyes half closed while mixing coffee and sugar and cream together in two cups.   That incident might in fact be why Jack had taken such a fascination with Reid’s neck, Aaron realized.   Reid had needed a second cup of coffee before it registered with him that Jack was in the kitchen at all.  By that time, Jack was sitting in his usual chair, smiling happily, quietly eating his Cheerios.

“Oh….” Jack said slowly.  “I get it,” he was mumbling.  What he was getting, he did not clarify. 

“Jack, it’s normal to be curious, but you are not to ask Reid any more personal questions like that.   Also, please stop biting him on the neck.”

“Okay,” Jack sighed.  “Don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad,” Hotch promised.   “Where did Reid go?”

“I dunno.  Let me go look.”

“Jack, I love you.”

“I love you too, Dad,” Jack beamed.  Hotch could tell by his voice that the boy was smiling.  The door creaked.  “Reid?” he called out.  His feet pattered in the hallway.  “REID?” he called again. 

“OH MY GOD!  JACK!”

“What?” Jack muttered. 

“Where are your clothes?!” Reid exclaimed. 

“Dad wants to talk to you.”

“Go put on your pj’s,” Reid ordered sternly, pointing towards the bathroom. 

“I’m not done with my bath,” Jack sassed.   Hotch was cracking up on the phone.  Morgan raised a brow as he passed again by where Hotch was seated.   

“Reid?” Hotch called out.

“Hello?” Spencer came back to the phone. 

“Everything okay there?” Hotch asked, clearing his throat, holding back his amusement. 

“Yes,” Reid whined, “except that your son is streaking through my house.”

“I have to go.  Morgan and I are going to take out two teams and start combing the forest for evidence of more dump sites.   We’ll contact you if we find anything.”

“Be careful.  I was checking the weather service for conditions in your region.  There’s a storm front moving your direction.  You should get one to two inches of snow later tonight.”

“Which is why we’re headed out early this evening.”

“Be careful.”

“You be careful too.  Thank you for looking after Jack.  Sorry he’s streaking through your house.”

“I miss you.  Tell Morgan I miss him too.  I can hear him breathing back there.”

“Can you really?” Hotch asked. 

“No.  But I imagine he’s about five feet away, pretending to be looking in the other direction, but listening to every word you’re saying.  He’s ready to go.  He’s anxious.  He’s probably been watching the same weather reports I was watching, and he thinks it’s a bad idea to go out when it’s getting dark and there’s bad weather coming.  He’s checking his watch.  He’s shifting his coat.  He’s doing the shoe thing too.”

“The shoe thing?”

“Looks at the toes on one shoe.  Looks at the toes on the other shoe.  Looks at his watch again.”

“Reid, you scare the hell out of me sometimes, you know that?  I love you.  Good night.”

“I love you too,” Spencer whispered.  The line went cold. 

Reid rested the phone on the middle of his chest and closed his eyes, smiling to himself.   Then he heard footsteps.  He looked up time to see a naked form dash past the doorway again, giggling madly. 

“Jack?  What are you doing?” Reid worried, putting down the phone and getting up from his settee.   He could hear laughter echoing down the staircase and towards the kitchen.   

7

General Scott was positively amazed when Reid came stumbling unexpectedly out onto the front porch of his house.  Scott glanced at his chronometer – a few minutes after 6 a.m.    Reid was shaking from head to toe.  He took several fish-like gulps, and exhaled trembling wraiths into the cold morning air.  Agent Hotchner’s son came running out of the house too.  He took hold of Reid’s closest hand, and Dr. Reid flinched wildly, recoiling back from the boy as if surprised by his very presence.  The youngster drew back too, not understanding Reid’s aversion to touch.

“General, what’s up?” came a voice over Scott’s ear piece.  “TLF looks like he saw a ghost.  Is that place really haunted?”

The voice belonged to Lieutenant Spaulding, who was in her observation post on the other side of Reid’s property.    TLF—their personal inside joke – Tweedy Little Fucker.   Scott was sorry now that he had blurted that phrase.  It seemed a bit unkind.   He did not chastise the lieutenant though – she was getting back on even keel after jeopardizing Reid, and the general didn’t want her to feel he would always be hounding her.  Scott let Spaulding’s comment slide this time. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong.  But it’s not good,” General Scott replied.   “I’ll see what’s happened.”

Dr. Reid sat down on the steps and covered his mouth with one hand.  Agent Hotchner’s son sat down tentatively beside him, and patted him on the shoulder.  Reid didn’t flinch away this time.  The child looked as puzzled as Scott felt. 

Something was very wrong.  General Scott’s first thought was to worry about Reid’s mother.  Had Diana Reid come to some harm?  Had she harmed someone else? 

Dr. Reid took a heaving breath, and threw up beside the porch, splattering chewed but undigested Cheerios everywhere.   He heaved again, and again.  The boy stood up and patted Reid’s back.  General Scott was getting out of the car now.  Protocol be damned.   By the time General Scott reached the front porch steps, Reid had stopped dry heaving.  He was sitting on the porch step, shaking nervously.   He was holding one of Jack’s hands.

“Hi again,” Jack said timidly, waving with the other hand. 

“Hi,” General Scott answered.  

“Jack.  Please go inside.  I’ll be right there,” Reid rasped, giving a ghoulish twitch.

“Okay,” Jack said.  He jumped to his feet, ran to the door, closed it, and locked it.   Scott stood in front of the porch steps and waited.  Reid studied him coolly for a second before his face lit up in a shrewd, calculating manner.  General Scott could hear the wheels turning inside the young doctor’s mind.

“General Scott, what is the exact stated purpose of your mission in concern to me?” Reid asked, clearing his throat. 

“Follow.  Observe.  Report.”

“Anything else?” Reid asked, dabbing his nose and mouth on the end of the cuff of his sleeve.

“It’s understood that I am allowed to intervene if possible if your life is in danger.”

“Do you drive a red Mercedes?” Reid asked, tilting his head.

“No,” Scott replied.

“A mystery for another time.  I am about to break a direct command from my SAIC.  I need to get to Montana.  If I go, you must follow, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Therefore we can assume we are both going to Montana.”

“For the sake of argument,” Scott agreed.  

“If we both start in the same location and will end in the same location, is there any reason to take separate transportation?”

“Not that I can see.”

“As a senior member of the armed services, can I assume you have access to a variety of modes of transportation?  You must follow wherever I go on the BAU cases.   That requires a variety of airplanes?  Helicopters?  Air search and rescue vehicles?”

“Yes.”

“How quickly can you get your hands on a helicopter suitable for air search and rescue in a national forest?”

“That depends on the national forest.”

“Mountainous.  Snowy.  Formidable.”

“You said Montana.  Are you talking about Gallatin, Beaverhead, Lewis & Clark, Flathead, Glacier, or Bitterroot?” 

“Bitterroot,” Reid said. 

“Been there fishing a couple times.  Beautiful place.  I can get us anything we need in thirty minutes.  We can fly out of Andrews.  I’ll tell them it’s a training mission.  We’ll get a pilot there.”

“Sir?”

General Scott and Reid looked up at once.  A young woman was walking around the side of the house, putting away her earpiece. 

“I couldn’t help but overhear,” she said, clearing her throat and cautiously approaching.

“Dr. Reid.  Lieutenant Spaulding.  Have you two been formally introduced?”  the general attempted to joke, knowing this must be awkward.  He gave Spaulding a sharp, chastising glare. 

“Lieutenant,” Reid nodded.

“Doctor,” Spaulding replied with a small nod. 

They were all quiet, and Spaulding grew more uncomfortable by the second, until she finally blurted. 

“First of all, let me say that I’m sorry about….you know….that whole Davydov thing.”

“You mean that you would like to apologize for telling your Russian Intelligence boyfriend my whereabouts, getting me kidnapped, and nearly killed?” Reid offered.  He seemed vaguely amused by the sheer absurdity of the moment.

“Yes, that.  For the record, I had no idea Elijah was Russian intelligence.  He was so normal.  I swear, I had no clue.   It’s not like he was wearing a name badge that said, ‘Beware – Devious Rooski’.”

“Okolnay russi,” Reid replied.  “Apology accepted, Lieutenant.”

“Thanks,” Spaulding said with a grim nod.   

“Was there something you needed, Lieutenant?” General Scott asked. 

“You won’t have to hunt up a pilot at Andrews.  I flew support missions while I was in Iraq and Afghanistan,” she answered.  “The only reason I flew support instead of combat was because women aren’t allowed to fly in combat situations, but there were days when those support missions were as dangerous as the combat ones.”

“There’s a big difference between flying refueling missions over desert terrain, and dealing with air search and rescue in the mountains in winter conditions,” General Scott replied. 

“I’ve flown in the mountains in winter, sir.  I learned how to fly before I learned how to drive.  Wherever we were stationed, my dad took me flying.  He taught me how to handle every kind of aircraft he could put his hands on.  There isn’t much terrain on this planet that I can’t fly you through.”

“Your father,” Scott nodded, smiling sadly.  “He was a good man, and an exceptional pilot.”

“So you know I learned from the best.   If you can get me a bird, I’ll get you where you need to be,” Spaulding offered.  “What’s wrong?  What’s happened?  The rest of the BAU team is in Bitterroot, aren’t they?”

“They split up and took two helicopters out yesterday evening to search for more possible burial sites ahead of the snowfall expected late last night.  Morgan’s team returned this early morning.  The other team did not.”   Reid was shaking as he relayed this information. 

“Hotchner?” Scott asked. 

Reid replied a slow nod, shutting his eyes tight.  

“Have you told his boy?”

Reid shook his head no.

“You should tell him,” Scott advised. 

Spaulding nodded in agreement. 

“Dr. Reid, I’ll take you to Montana, but who should we leave the boy with?” Scott asked. 

“He’s coming along.  I promised Hotch I wouldn’t let him out of my sight.  I won’t ever break that promise,” Reid insisted.

“It’s your life,” General Scott mused.  “Hope you realize that Hotchner is going to kick your ass when you get there.”

“I certainly hope so,” Reid whispered, drying his face as he headed for the front door.  He tapped on the knocker.  “Jack?  Open the door.”

The lock clicked.  Jack peered out.

“Are you okay?” the boy asked.   Reid smiled at him tenderly. 

“I’m okay.  How would you like to go on a field trip with me?”

“Will I need a go-bag?”

“Yes.”

Jack cheered, racing back inside and up the stairs.   He was on the landing, running full speed towards the map room.

“Are you going to call his aunt first?” General Scott asked Reid, who was already dialing his cell phone. 

“Garcia?”

“Here, honey.  Hi.  I talked to Morgan.  How are you?  Okay?”

“Not okay,” Reid replied.  “Can you send me the flight manuals for all air search and rescue helicopters that are currently available from Andrews Air Force Base?”

“I can….” Garcia answered slowly.  “Do I want to ask why?”

“No.  You should not ask why.  That will allow you deniability.  I am about to break a direct command from my superior, and I don’t want you to lose your job too.  Can you wait thirty-three minutes and contact Jessica Brooks-Banner and let her know that Jack and I are taking a field trip to Montana to do on-site research for his map for school?”

“Oh, baby, you are going to be in such deep shit,” Garcia warned.

“If Morgan calls you again, you haven’t heard from me.”

“Reid….Reid…wait.”

Spencer hung up the call as Jack came bouncing down the stairs, dragging his bag down behind. 

“Where did she come from?” Jack asked, indicating Lieutenant Spaulding.   General Scott and Dr. Reid both looked at Spaulding. 

“I’m from Iowa,” she replied with a serious frown. 

“I know where that is on the map,” Jack said shyly. 

“You’re going to need a heavy coat,” Reid smiled as Jack ran to him, hugged him around both legs, and leaned into his form. 

8

Derek Morgan was not surprised to see two more helicopters come down to the helipad – after all, they had requested support personnel and replacement choppers for the search for the one that had not returned and was presumed crashed in bad weather.   He was not surprised to see a small army and national guard contingent and emergency medical personnel streaming out of the choppers as their doors slid open wide.  The more personnel they had at their disposal, the more area they would be able to search.

When General Scott popped out of the side of the second chopper, Morgan’s radar went on high alert.  When he reached back in and pulled a small child out, dropping him to his feet on the tarmac, Morgan’s heart rate shot up.   One pilot’s door opened, and a young woman dropped out, whipped off her helmet, and hurried around to join the general.  When the other pilot’s door came open, and Spencer Reid slithered out wearing a flight suit and a helmet and a communications earpiece, Morgan’s jaw hit the floor, and his entire frame stiffened in place.  Prentiss was there at Morgan’s side, taking his arm.

“Oh!” JJ exclaimed.

“Oh, shit,” Emily said succulently, staring out over the helipad at the figures approaching through the falling snow. 

“You didn’t really think he was going to sit tight in Virginia and not do something stupid before this was all over, did you?” Rossi chuckled from Morgan’s other side. 

The female pilot took Reid’s arm and stopped him.  She was shouting instructions to him, demonstrating with her entire body.   She put her helmet down on the snowy tarmac for a second.  She shifted her hips left, right, forward, back.  She moved her left arm horizontally.  Her right hand was curled into a vertical fist as if holding a stick between her knees.  Reid listened carefully to her every word, and mimicked her motions, hips moving side to side, right hand curled in the same fashion. 

“That’s it!  Trust me!  If you relax into the seat, and keep a steady grip, the damn ship will almost fly itself,” the young woman said, picking up her helmet and giving Reid a thump on the butt with it. 

“What the hell was that?” Prentiss snickered. 

“I don’t even wanna know,” JJ replied, pinching the bridge of her nose and sighing again.  “Reid, you are going to be in so much trouble when Hotch finds out about this,” she whispered, shaking her head.     

“Let me have five minutes alone with him,” Morgan said calmly.   Prentiss was sure that was going to be an interesting conversation, and she was sorry she was going to miss it.

“When did you learn how to fly one of those!?” JJ shouted at Reid the minute he was in earshot. 

“On the way to Andrews this morning!” Reid replied, standing in front of Morgan and staring at Derek’s rough boots.   Spencer ventured a look upwards, giving Derek half a smile.   Morgan glared him back into meek submission.   The smile faded away to worry.  Morgan took Reid by one arm and walked him back out into the falling snow. 

“Miss JJ!” Jack called happily, running over and jumping into her arms. 

“Hi, Jack,” JJ replied, hugging him tight and blinking back tears.  Prentiss peeled off the oversized helmet on Jack’s head. 

“How was the flight?” Rossi asked him. 

“Awesome,” Jack grinned. 

“Let’s go get some hot chocolate,” Prentiss offered.  Jack grabbed her wrist and hurried her along. 

“I see Garcia gave you my message,” Morgan murmured.   Reid’s eyes jumped up again, his face full of confusion.   “I told her to tell you to join us here as fast as possible.”

“You did?” Spencer asked.

“No, but I’m about to.  Reid, don’t get me wrong.  I appreciate the initiative.  And I understand that you couldn’t sit still and do nothing.  But from this point forward, you do what I tell you to do, and only what I tell you to do.  I do not need you out here being reckless, doing stupid emotional shit, and compromising the search for Hotch or this case either one.  Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Reid answered. 

“Obviously the case takes a back burner until we find Hotch.”

“Understood.”

“Good to have you here,” Derek added. 

“Thanks,” Reid hinted at a smile again. 

Morgan was pulling out his phone, shaking his head.

“Seriously, you read the manual on the way to airport?” Derek asked. 

“I’m not totally unfamiliar with aerodynamics or aeronautics.  I know the Sikorsky aircrafts inside and out,” Reid defended.

“Head inside.  We’ve got the search grids plotted already.”

Morgan put his finger to his ear and had a short conversation with Penelope. 

“Baby girl, I want you to call Reid and tell him to get to Montana as fast as he can get here.”

“Hi, sugar, yeah, well, there’s something you should know, really, and…”

“Garcia.  Call his home phone and leave the message.”

“His land line?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.  You do know he’s not at home, right?”

“Yeah, I know cause I’m looking at him in the flesh, dressed in a flight suit.”

“Oh Jesus.  He asked for the manuals.  I sent them to him.  Did he seriously FLY THERE?!  Oh my god.  Oh my god.  Oh my god.”

“He’s okay, baby girl.”

“He got there safely?  He’s got Jack?”

“Yeah, he landed two minutes ago with Little Hotch in tow.”

“Any word from Hotch?”

“No.  No response from any member on his search team, or from Hotch.  We’re headed out now to do a grid search while it’s still light.   While we’re out looking for signs of them, Rossi and JJ are going to be here working the case.  If anything comes up in your searches, patch your call through to Dave or JJ, okay?”

“Got you.  See you all soon, safe and sound.  I love you.”

“Love you too.”

“We’ve got the search pattern laid out already.  Two more choppers will help us cover that much more area at one time,” Prentiss told Reid, taking him by the arm when he was in reach.  

“Come inside.  We’ll brief everyone on the plan,” Rossi said as medical and martial personnel streamed past. 

“You,” Morgan growled at General Scott as he approached.   As she got closer, Morgan realized the young female pilot was the same Lieutenant Spaulding who had nearly gotten him and Reid both killed.  He glared at her, and her cocky grin faded away.  He supposed if Reid was willing to forgive Spaulding, then he probably should too, but that didn’t make him any happier to see her. 

“Agent Morgan?” General Scott murmured, then found a small smile.  Spaulding stifled her amusement.   

“General, you are an evil enabler,” Morgan told Scott.   “But thank you for getting Reid here safely.  I hate to think what a basket case he would have been If I had made him stay in Virginia and wait.”

“You’re welcome,” the general replied. 

9

“How am I going to help if I’m staying on the ground?” Jack asked, his disappointment clear. 

“Honey, you’re not flying with Reid or with Derek and Emily.  You have to stay here with me and Uncle Dave,” JJ said helpfully.  Reid was zipping back into the full body flight suit.  The charcoal gray color reminded JJ of Hotch’s preferred office suits, and she wondered if that had influenced Reid’s choice, or if that had merely been the only one available.   Reid sat down flat on the floor so he could talk to Jack. 

“Do you remember when we talked about the colors on the weather map?”

“Yes.”

“That there’s more weather heading this way?”

“I know.  Ice and snow.  A blizzard.”

“Do you remember when we talked about what can happen if the wind changes direction unexpectedly or a down-draft grabs the blades of the aircraft?”

“Yes.  Millions of pieces of me, all over the snow.  Like Legos go everywhere when you drop the box.”

“That’s why you can’t go back up with me.  Not yet.  When the weather clears, I will take you back up with me.  I promise.  We will fly all around the mountains, and you can draw your map for school.”

“I would be careful,” Jack insisted, fingering Reid’s collar, messing with the top of his zipper.  

“I know you would, but, Jack, you can’t control the weather.  Neither can I.  So you have to stay here on the ground where you will be safe.  At least until the weather clears.   You see Miss JJ?”

“Yeah.”

“You are going to sit at the monitor with JJ, the screen with the lines and circles, and you’re going to help me that way.”

“How will that help find Dad?” Jack asked.   JJ watched Reid’s face, watched the emotions wash through his features.  He had told Jack everything, the entire truth.  She wasn’t sure she would have done that.

“Each number you see on the monitor is an aircraft.  You will be able to see where we are searching while we are searching.  You will be able to tell us how close the colors on the weather map are getting to the lines and circles on the geographical map.”

“How will that help?”

“We will know where it’s safe to search because  you will tell us how close the weather is getting to our locations.”

“How will you know where to look?”

“We will center in on the beacon from the helicopter your father was in.  We will find the initial crash site and spread out from there, just like Morgan drew on his plans.”

“Do you think there’s Legos all over the snow there?”

“Yes,” Reid answered after a small pause. 

“That’s why you don’t want me to go with you?”

“Yes.”

“But if you find my dad, you will call me?”

Reid slipped a headset over Jack’s head, adjusted the fit until the earpiece was in place, and pulled the mouth piece down as well. 

“I’m going to be talking to you the whole time while I’m in the air.  When we find Hotch, when we find your dad, you’ll know right away.”

“You’ll be back soon?”

“I hope so.  We will search while we have natural light. When it turns to night, we’ll turn on the search beacons.  I bet if you look out the window towards the mountains, you’ll be able to see us by the lights, once it gets dark.  But I hope we are back very soon.”

“It’s cold out there,” Jack commented. 

“Yes.  It’s very cold.”

“There are wolves and bears in the mountains.”

“Yes.”

“Did Dad wear his heavy coat?”

“Yes, he did,” JJ insisted.  “I promise.  He was wearing a very heavy coat and gloves and a hat and….” she added, pushing tears out of her eyes.  “Reid, they’re ready to go.  You better hurry.”

Spencer started to climb to his feet, but Jack stopped him, and he leaned back down to see what Jack wanted to say.

“Be careful.”

“I will be very careful,” Reid promised, stroking Jack’s hair. 

10

The search was carried out with eight aircraft and numerous personnel on foot around the mountains as well.   In the first four hours, other hikers and climbers and nature lovers were pulled off the mountains as a precaution not only against the weather, but against the unsub who was still combing these woods in search of more victims. 

During that first four hours, there were also groups of hikers going out into the woods—rugged people who had little concern about the elements or the unsub either one for that matter.  Rossi was more than willing to allow them to go as long as they understood what kind of danger they were putting themselves in.

He was drawing the line at a girl scout troop though. 

“Lady, you don’t seem to understand.  Not only is there a blizzard coming down the mountains towards this very area, but there’s a man out there killing couples he finds fornicating in the woods.”

“Mrs. Swenson?  What does ‘fornicating’ mean?” one of the girl scouts asked.  The troop leader patted her on the head. 

“It means to have sex, dear,” she answered.  Rossi gasped, looking horrified that she had actually explained. 

“Brrr….” The scout shivered.  “In this?”

“Crazy people,” another scout interjected. 

“Agent Rossi, I have seen the weather reports.  I don’t know where you’re from, but this is hardly a blizzard by our standards.  It’s three inches of light precipitation.  The ice is more dangerous than the snowfall.”

“You shouldn’t have children out in weather like this.”

“My girls know how to protect themselves from the elements.   This isn’t their first trip into the woods.  We have all the necessary supplies.  The girls understand how to keep warm, and be careful, and not take unnecessary risks.  We’re here for a three day camping trip that they saved an entire year to fund,” the scout leader informed Rossi with a tight, stern smile on her round, pink face. 

“Maybe you don’t understand.  There is a killer out there,” Rossi stressed as simply as possible.  Mrs. Swenson pulled back one side of her coat to reveal a small caliber gun tucked to her side.  

“I carry it for emergencies.  Mrs. Jensen carries one as well.  Anyone who tries to harm these girls has to come through us first.  Besides that, Agent, I can safely assure you no one in my troop is going to be out there having sex in the wilderness.”

Rossi looked past her shoulder at the assembly of bright, sweet faces, watching him with hopeful eyes, waiting anxiously.   There wasn’t one of them over ten, except for the troop leader and her subordinate.   Rossi made the mistake of looking at Jureau.  She was biting back a full grin. 

“Have you got your radios fully charged?  You can contact the authorities at a moment’s notice if you run into trouble or you see anything suspicious?” Jureau asked the girls. 

They chorused a loud “Yeah!” as they showed her their radios.  Some showed her their cell phones as well, but JJ wasn’t sure what kind of coverage they were going to get out there. 

“Agent Rossi, I bet these girls know the forests around here almost as well as some of the rangers,” Mrs. Swenson said slyly. 

“Maybe we should ask you to join the search party,” JJ smiled to her.  The troop leader pulled on her knit-wool hat and her heavy gloves.

“We’ll radio you if we see anything out of the ordinary.  Can we go now?  We need to get to the first campsite before it’s completely dark out there.”

“Be my guest,” Rossi agreed, shaking his head as he watched them strike out from the ranger station and head into the falling twilight. 

“They’ll be fine, Rossi, don’t worry,” JJ said as she stood next to Dave at the door. 

“Me?  Worried?” Rossi murmured.  “It’s going to be night soon.  We have to find Hotch as quickly as possible.  I hate to think of him out there in this.”

Rossi looked back across the room to where Jack was carrying on an animated conversation over the communications earpiece he was wearing.    

“You and me both.   I don’t know how Jack would handle it—losing both parents,” JJ whispered. 

“He’s young.  He’s strong.  Reid wouldn’t have told Jack the truth if he didn’t think the boy could handle the truth.”

“There’s knowing the truth, and there’s handling the truth, and we both know what kind of gap can exist between the two,” Jureau whispered. 

“A pack of wolves?!” Jack exclaimed.  “Three is a pack.  A small pack.  That’s more than one.  Can you send me a picture?  Oh.  Yeah.  I guess it is sort of important to keep your hands on the stick.  Who?  Spaulding?  Okay.  Tell her to send me a picture.  What color are they?  That’s cool.  Yeah, I’m looking at the map.  You moved from the fourth circle island thing to the fifth circle island thing.  Topo…. graphic…. repreee… zen…tashun of the height of the mountain range.  I got it. Reid, you use very big words sometimes.”

“Yes, he does,” Rossi smiled to JJ, who went back over to Jack. 

“Jack?  You there?” Reid spoke into the mouthpiece on his cheek.

“I’m here.”

“Can you give the headset to Miss JJ for a second?”

He heard a muffled sound, and then JJ’s voice. 

“Hi, Reid.  I’m here.  What is it?”

“We’re picking up a beacon signal from Hotch’s chopper.  We’re about a half mile away.  Don’t say anything out loud.  Another chopper passed over the same site an hour ago, and didn’t see a craft on the ground.   They had to circle back and refuel or they would have done a recon on the site already.  The snowfall last night was very light – it could not have covered the entire craft.  If they didn’t see a whole craft during their fly-by back to base, that means we’re looking for parts of a craft.”

“I understand,” JJ managed as her eyes welled up. 

“Put Jack back on.”

“Sure,” she agreed. 

“Hi,” Jack beamed.

“Hi,” Reid replied, his voice shaking.  “Jack?  Tell me what the weather map looks like.  I can see clouds when I look up above the mountain ahead of me.”

“What’s wrong with Miss JJ?”

“What?”

“Miss JJ is crying.  Reid, did you find Legos?”

“No.  We haven’t found anything yet.”

“What did you say to make Miss JJ cry?”

“If you tell me what the weather map says, I’ll explain.”

“Pink stuff everywhere to the left.  Followed by white stuff, further left.”

“That means we’ll get ice before we get snow.  Oh hell,” a different voice said over the communications link. 

“Reid, what did you say to Miss JJ?  You have to tell me.”

“Jack, we are flying over the site now where your dad’s helicopter went down.  I’m turning on the lights so we can see better.”

Reid inhaled sharply.  There were shouts in the background from other people on the helicopter with him, screams of fear from the soldiers and medical personnel on board.

“HOLD THIS FUCKING BIRD STEADY!” a man boomed loudly.

“Ease up on the stick, Doctor,” a steady female voice put in.  It was Lieutenant Spaulding again.  “That’s it.  You have to be careful of the eddies in the wind rolling down the leeward side of the mountain.  Back up, slowly, slowly.  That’s good.  Do you see the wind picking up the loose snow from above?   It rolls down, hits the outcrop, picks up the lighter flakes, comes straight at us.   Pull us back a few more feet.  That’s good.”

“Okay.  I understand.  Jack, are you there?” Reid whispered. 

“I’m here.  Did you find my dad, or did you find Legos?”

“I’m going to have to land and get a closer look before I can tell.”

“You must have found a lot of Legos,” Jack decided. 

There was more shouting in the background.  Jack could hear everything.

“Let me have control.  I’ll take us in,” Spaulding cautioned.  “I’ve got it.  You’re doing very well, Dr. Reid.  I’ll teach you rough weather landings another time though.”

“LIEUTENANT!  PUT US DOWN!  SLOWLY!  SLOWLY!”

“Oh God.  We’re doomed.”

“JESUS CHRIST!”

“WHY ARE YOU SPINNING US AROUND?!”

“Do you wanna land or do you wanna crash?” Spaulding asked, rhetorically of course.  She was muttering obscenities softly to herself.  

“DOWN!  DOWN!  DOWN!!” someone begged.  

“Shut up back there!”  Spaulding bellowed over the com.  “That’s an order, Sergeant.  Calm your men down, or they can walk back.”

“I’d rather walk than fly with these two,” someone muttered.   

“Calm down,” came another voice.  “You heard the lieutenant.  That’s an order.”

“How many passengers were in the chopper when it went out?” Reid asked.

“Six,” Spaulding answered.   “How the hell are we ever going to tell them apart when they’re torn up like that?” she whispered.   “He smashed that bird to pieces.  Oh, baby.  That is nasty.  Hope the wolves haven’t eaten too much of them.”

“Jack?  I need to get out of the helicopter for a few moments.  Would you like to talk to Lieutenant Spaulding?” Reid asked.

“No.  I want to talk to you.  I want to know if you found my dad,” Jack replied.

“Don’t worry.  It’s going to be okay, Jack,” Reid promised. 

“It’s going to be okay, kid,” Spaulding echoed.   “Shit.  Did he hear me, Doctor?”

“Probably,” Reid answered.   “Jack, it’s going to be okay.”  

“I know,” Jack said. 

Reid’s breathing got louder, stronger, as he climbed out of the chopper.  Jack could hear crunching, like Reid was walking through snow or over uneven ground, rocky terrain.  Reid carefully approached the blackened wreckage, twisted metal, and seared human body parts that were spread about on the rocky outcropping.  Luckily he had not eaten lunch or dinner.   It might be days before he was hungry again. 

The military contingent and medical contingent who had been sharing passenger  space all jumped out.  The medical team were calm again, but the soldiers couldn’t get out of the aircraft fast enough.   They swarmed the site like cautious ants, and helped in setting up cameras and recorders, collecting evidence, all while maintaining a safe distance from Spaulding’s chopper.   

Reid was sniffling.  Jack could hear him.  He could also hear the wind howling around like a taunting monster. 

“Reid?  Talk to me.  What do you see?” Jack asked, sounding so like Hotch that Rossi couldn’t look at him.  JJ was standing by the little boy, hand on his blond head.  Rossi was looking out the windows, watching the lights climb around the mountains.  He thought about dwarves pounding with their hammers, and the sounds ringing into the dark night.  The lights that circled the mountain from the sky also made him think of flying angels.   They were coming together, converging high on one particular mountain peak. 

“Four bodies in the crash,” Reid reported.  “One sheriff.  One ranger.  Two pilots.  A downdraft must have grabbed the chopper unexpectedly, spun them around the same way it grabbed us there at the last second too.”

“Reid found four people, Miss JJ,” Jack relayed.  “Do you see my dad?” he asked. 

“Ask him if he’s sure about the number?” JJ said. 

“Hotch isn’t here,” Reid whispered.  “Jack, let me talk to Miss JJ.”

“Is he there, Reid?!” JJ exclaimed, taking the headset again.

“Hotch isn’t at the crash site.  There are only four bodies.  There are indications that two people have left the crash site, and we must assume that Hotch is one of those two people.”

“How can you be sure if there’s Legos everywhere?” she asked, casting a careful look at Jack, who was smiling again.  He was far less pale than a few seconds before, buoyed momentarily by the good news.    

“I counted shoes and examined their ties,” Reid laughed softly.  He was sniffling even more.  He rustled around in his clothes, by the sound of the noise in the background.  Maybe he was hunting for a tissue. 

“Reid, would you recognize every tie that Hotch owns?” JJ asked, drying her eyes. 

“He has them sorted by color, by pattern, by week.  He wears them in sequence.  He never deviates.   It’s a routine for him.  He would have worn the dark blue tie with the gray diamond patterns today.  The dark blue suit with a gray shirt, charcoal socks.”

“He might have changed clothes because of the cold weather.”

“Which is why I’m looking at their shoes too,” Reid defended.

“What if he changed into boots?” JJ worried.  “Jack is reaching for the mouth piece,” Jureau said.   Jack was frowning again. 

“Where is my dad?  If he’s not there, where is he?” Jack wanted to know.  “The pink stuff is coming.   Then the white stuff.”

“Your dad must have gone off into the woods,” Reid replied to Jack’s question.  “At least two people have left the crash site.  There are tracks going in separate directions.  The search teams are going to split up and take the two paths.”

“Do you think my dad is hurt?” Jack worried.  His bright smile of moments ago was long gone.

“The crash is pretty bad,” Reid admitted.  “But it’s good that he isn’t here.”

“Why is it good?” Jack wanted to know.

“If your dad is well enough to walk around in the mountains, that means he must not be hurt very badly, right?”

“Right,” Jack agreed timidly.

“He would not have gone far from the crash site.  He knows we would start looking for him here.   He might have gone in search of shelter from the weather.  We’ll find him soon.  I know we will, Jack.”

“It’s cold out there,” Jack worried.

“I know it is,” Reid answered. 

“You have to find my dad,” Jack’s voice quivered. 

“I will.  I promise.   Maybe you should take a nap while we’re searching?  Aren’t you tired?  It’s getting late.”

“No,” Jack lied.  “I’m not tired.”

“If I find your dad, I will wake you up right away.  I promise I will.”

“No.”

“Do you want to hear a bedtime story?  Would that help?”

“No,” Jack repeated.  “I want to stay up.  I want to help.”

“It’s going to be okay, Jack.  I promise.  I will keep looking until I find your dad.”

“One good thing,” Spaulding commented.

“What’s that?” Reid asked.  Spaulding’s voice did not come over the intercom.  It came softly over Reid’s mic.  She must have been talking to him privately. 

“When we go back up, we can do a few more aerial training maneuvers without all the histrionics from those guys.”

Reid gave a wet laugh and sniffle. 

“Don’t worry.  Agent Hotchner is tough.  This mountain has got nothing on him.  We’ll find him.  Don’t worry.  You ready to go back up?” she asked, coming back onto the comlink. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Reid replied.  “Jack, we’re going back up.  I need another weather report from you,” he said into the comlink. 

“I’m on it,” Jack answered, sniffing loudly. 

11

It was so cold.   Beyond cold.  Hotch’s breath was tangible inside his chest and visible in the air around him.  It hurt to inhale and it hurt to exhale.  His limbs were stiff.  He could hardly move.  After part of one night and an entire day, he was not looking forward to another night out in this.  At first he had been moving along slowly but steadily, but somewhere he had fallen asleep standing and moving.  Just now he had awakened on the ground in a heap.  He must fallen down.  He must have fallen asleep while dragging himself along, and had landed where he sat.  How could he be so stupid?  He had to get up.  He had to keep moving.  He had to get up.  But he couldn’t move.

He had a strange sensation that the ground was moving.  Then he realized it wasn’t the ground, but a group of three wolves that were flanking him left and right and at his feet.  When he awakened and stirred, they jumped to their feet and sniffed around him.  Their green eyes glowed with curiosity, and they growled low at him before they moved on about their business. 

On the horizon, warm fingers began to crawl over the edge – the muted pink before dawn, the lines before the first rays.  He had spent the entire night out again with minimum shelter.  He wasn’t going to last much longer. 

If it had to be the last dawn Aaron Hotchner would ever see, it was going be magnificent.   The weather had cleared.  The sky was bright with stars.  Stars like the room where Jack had slept.   Stars that Reid had put on the ceiling in an echo of the night sky.  All Hotch could think about was that he had to get up, because Jack was depending on him.  Jack needed him.  He could not leave Jack alone.  He didn’t want to leave Reid alone either, but his first thoughts were for Jack.   Reid would be upset – but Jack was going to be devastated. 

Darkness was slowly giving over to dawn.  Light began to move across the edge of the mountains.  Warmth crept in like hope through the trees, over the valleys, and through the ravines.  

Aaron was not going to disappoint Jack.  He was not going to break his son’s heart.  But he couldn’t get to his feet.  He couldn’t even get to his knees.   He swung his head around side to side, wondering if he could use a large rock or a heavy branch to pull himself upright again.   He couldn’t move his left arm except from the shoulder.  He’d have to grab with his right.  There must be something he could use to pull himself upright. 

And then he heard it – soft laughter and the jingle jangle of bells.  It was faint at first but grew steadily the longer he listened.   The bells were getting closer, coming his way.  He could hear a small group of people coming closer and closer.  A voice broke through the early dawn light, crisp and clear. 

“Let’s go, girls.  Pick up those feet.  We need to get our blood pumping through our veins to warm us up.”

Forms of light and color moved around Hotch where he was sitting in the middle of their path.  They moved around him, before him, near him.  They were ethereal, so like ghosts or gods.  They stopped as one and stared.  Maybe they had taken him for a big rock at first. 

Small faces were inches away, staring at him, taking shape in the light that was increasing with each passing second, spreading all around.  He was so excited to see actual people that he thought he must be hallucinating.   They had faces like angels – every last one of them. 

It hit the logical part of Hotch’s brain that he was being stared at by a girl scout troop, and they were as surprised to see him as he was to see them.  Their leader moved forward, extending one hand to Hotch after taking off her glove.  She touched the side of his face and he felt the warmth in her bare skinned hand. 

“Don’t worry.  It’s going to be all right,” she said, pulling out her radio.

“Am I hallucinating?” Aaron asked.  That would certainly explain those wolves.  She tipped over sideways.  Or maybe he had?

When he came to again, Hotch was lying down.  Someone was putting a warmer hat on his head.  Someone had covered him with lots of unfurled sleeping bags.  He was been swaddled in unicorns and rainbows and pink-tinged camouflage.  His right foot had been bound up in ace bandages and long scarves.  How interesting that he could feel it again.  He had been dreading the idea of having to have it amputated.

The light was brighter and stronger that before.  Day was here.  She had finally arrived. 

Hotch was moving along even though he was lying down.  The branches above him swayed with light breezes, sprinkling him with loose snow that glittered in the tree-dappled light.  He glanced further back above his head to see who was there.  He was being dragged by a sturdy woman in a makeshift harness.  Hotch was sliding along on a stretcher constructed out of camping tent poles and heavy canvas.  There was another adult at his feet.  She smiled reassuringly at him. 

Hotch was flanked on both sides by little girls whose gloved hands were holding onto the rods that supported his form.  They were making sure he didn’t impact the bigger rocks, letting go now and again to run ahead and push stones away.   Hotch felt a cold metal rod near his left ear.  It felt like the rod might be under the top of his head.  He had been worried about frostbite, but being able to feel his ear and the rod near it, that was only a good sign.    

A tiny little hand moved next to his head, tucking his ear back under the hat that was moving around on his head.  The woman pulling him stopped.  She pulled off her own hat, tossing it back over her head.  The subordinate troop leader caught the hat and hurried forward while the older scouts supported Hotch’s injured lower limbs.  She snuggled an adult sized hat on Hotch’s cold head.   With his head warm again, Hotch fell back into his dream state. 

Hotch opened his eyes and looked up again, and saw sky, and wondered why they had left the shelter of the tree-lined path.   Then a giant silver beast appeared suddenly overhead.  Hotch caught his breath, opened his eyes wide.  There was movement above and beside and all around him as the forest seemed to fight back against the intrusion, throwing up snow and dust and dirt and pine needles. 

A small face appeared right next to him, sheltering him from the debris that was flying all around.  She smiled at him, her blue eyes shining, her blonde hair flying in wisps around her head.   He wondered where her hat was.  She put her hand over his heart. 

“Don’t be scared,” she said.  “Can you see him?” she added, pointing skyward. 

Whirring, whipping blades hovered, drawing Hotch’s eyes again, filling his veins with fear and relief both.   He remembered that he had been hurt when one of these had crashed, and he wasn’t very eager to get back inside one, but something told him he didn’t have a choice in the matter.   He was feeling cold again in spite of the sleeping bags and canvas barrier against the elements. 

The awkward gray angel was about to put down right on his chest.  Blades whipped snow flakes and ice crystals from the ground and off the limbs of the trees around the clearing where he had been dragged.   It was the narrowest patch of ground one could possibly consider landing on.  The bird whipped backwards and nestled itself butt-first down into place.  The landing gear balanced inches away from Hotch.  If he reached out a hand, he was sure he could touch the cold metal.  Why wasn’t anyone moving the girl perched on Hotch’s side?  He put up his right hand to hold onto her, ignoring the scrapes and cuts and dried blood.  She touched his hand and held onto him in return.  Her touch was warming him, pouring life through his icy skin. 

Adults in flight suits and parkas were lifting him.  The ones left and right of his shoulders had familiar faces.   He knew he should know them.  It was coming.  Give him a second.  He knew their names.  A  second blanket came over him, warm and solid and heavy.  It felt glorious. 

“Hotch, man, try not to move,” Morgan said from his left shoulder.  “Looks like his left arm is broken.   Legs are injured too.  Hotch?  Lie still.” 

The girl watched Morgan and smiled through him. 

“Reid, take us up.  Keep it steady,” Morgan shouted towards the cockpit.

Why wasn’t Derek taking the girl off Hotch’s chest?  Why couldn’t Hotch feel her sitting there?   Why didn’t she make his chest hurt?  The other girls were standing on the ground outside the vehicle, watching him as the chopper rose up.   Why wasn’t she remaining with the others?  Aaron stared up at the little girl above him.  She smiled down at him reassuringly, her blonde hair flying up and around, blue eyes holy and clear like the sky itself. 

They were lifting up—the helicopter was rising.  As Hotch watched her, the small child started to float above him.  She transformed in waves that echoed the light that filled the cabin as the helicopter rose higher and higher above the mountains.  Rays went everywhere as she got bigger and taller and thinner.  With a gasp, Hotch finally did recognize her.  He knew who she was now, and he knew he was hallucinating.  

Haley touched Aaron’s forehead with a kiss and dissolved away in the sun’s rays as tears filled his eyes and spilled down his face. 

“I love you,” she whispered, and was gone. 

Morgan was bending over him, smiling down at Hotch.

“Lie still, will you?  Your left arm is broken.  We need to keep it stabilized.  LIKE THIS HELICOPTER, REID!  KEEP IT STEADY!!” he shouted to the forward cabin before returning his attention to Hotch and the medical person probing under his blankets in order to carefully start removing his swaddled burrow of sleeping bags.

“Agent Hotchner, your left leg is injured.  Your right foot too.”

“Injuries from the initial crash?” Morgan looked away to ask of someone close.

“Must be,” Prentiss replied.  She petted Hotch’s right hand briefly. “You scared the hell out of us,” she told him.   Her face darted to the side and she leapt to her feet in alarm.  “REID!  Who is flying?!”

“Lieutenant Spaulding is,” Reid answered.   Spencer sat flat on the floor next to Hotch, took his right hand, and fitted a communications headpiece to his tingling right ear. 

“DADDY!” Jack shrieked happily in Aaron’s ear.  “I can see you on the monitor!”

Hotch focused on Reid and fought for words.  Spencer’s eyes were red, and his face was wet, and the tip of his nose was glistening.   He held tight to Hotch’s right hand, bowing his head to Hotch’s chest and listening to his heart.  Hotch wanted to touch Reid’s hair, caress his head, but he couldn’t move his left arm and Reid was holding his right hand. 

“His heart rate is slow but steady.  I suspect he has moderate hypothermia.  Shivering, mild confusion, blue tinge to the extremities.   Hallucinations?”

“He said Haley’s name,” Morgan whispered.  Reid nodded. 

“Not uncommon in these situations,” the doctor replied in a matter-of-fact tone.   Reid caressed Aaron's cold cheek and looked lovingly into his eyes.

“We have to raise his core temperature slowly,” the medic said.

Hotch said nothing, but squeezed the hand holding his, wishing he could stop shivering.  He wasn’t afraid any longer.   Why couldn’t he stop shaking?

“Jack,” he said finally.   “Where is Jack?” he whispered.   

“Daddy!  I’m right here!” the earpiece answered.   “I can see you in the air now.  You’re getting closer.”

“Don’t worry.  Jack is fine.  By the way,” ‘Reid added, still gazing deep into Hotch’s eyes.  “I’m not really here.  If you remember this at all, I’m a hallucination.  I’m in Virginia.  So is Jack.  Oh, painkillers.  Yes.  Good idea.”

“Compound fracture of the ulna and radius both.  Left leg is bruised but not broken.  Right ankle appears to be sprained.  Minor cuts and scraps otherwise.  Possible broken ribs on the right.  Possible frostbite on right foot.  Frostnip at the very least,” the medic was reporting.

“That explains the spare shoe at the crash site,” Reid mused.    

Hotch found the strength for a tiny smile before falling peacefully into the void.

12

When Hotch woke again, it was late in the afternoon, maybe into early evening.  There was a tiny blue hiking boot on the right side of his bed, near his pillow.   He followed the shoe with his eyes, moved slowly upwards.  The leg belonged to a child.  The child was Jack.  Hotch’s heart filled, and so did his eyes. 

Late afternoon sunlight poured through the outside windows where the shades had not been drawn.  Hotch could see the mountains not far away, snow whirling around their white peaks.  Jack was illuminated in the heavy golden light from the windows.  He was sleeping on Reid’s chest.  He was draped all over him in fact.  His face was tucked into Spencer’s neck.  His small arms and legs were curled around the young doctor’s thin chest.   His other hiking boot was gouging Reid in the ribs and behind his hip.  Jack was bundled up in Reid’s dark blue wool sweater.   Reid had his arms around Jack, holding him tight.  They both radiated contentment and exhaustion.   They both had red noses too.  A box of tissues was close at hand.  The tiny trash can near the bed was almost full of used ones. 

A nurse was moving nearby.  She was checking the monitors on the left side of the bed.  Hotch watched her touch his left arm, which was swathed in a heavy cast.  He could feel it was there, but couldn’t move it, at least not yet.  The nurse studied the monitors, marked his chart, and put another blanket on his legs before leaving the room. 

Hotch looked at the arm cast again.   It was clean and white and crisp.  Nice handiwork.  How long could he keep it clean?  He wiggled his right foot, clenched and unclenched his toes.  They hurt like hell, but pain was good.  His left leg responded with grim annoyance.  Pain meant he could feel.  Pain meant he was alive.  He took a deep breath and regretted it because of the deep ache in his chest.   

Reid and Jack sniffed loudly and in concert, but remained asleep.   Hotch thought about making enough noise to wake them up.  If he cleared his throat?  If he moved towards the small foot?  He didn’t have the energy to do either.  Hotch smiled to himself and watched Reid and Jack until he couldn’t keep his eyes open.   

When he woke up again, morning light was in the room.  There was a sea of small faces at the wall of windows that was the front of his hospital room.  The heads looked like whole notes on a musical staff.  It was morning again.  Reid wasn’t there, and neither was Jack.   His heart hurt painfully for their presence.  A woman was approaching his bed.  He recognized her round, pink face at once. 

“Agent Hotchner?  I didn’t mean to startle you.  The girls wanted to make sure you were all right.  You don’t mind, do you?”

“I don’t mind,” Hotch beamed.   This sturdy Nordic woman had dragged Aaron Hotchner for three miles across snowy mountainous terrain.   She had given him her very own hat.  He could forgive her almost anything, including the troop of girl scouts about to storm his hospital room.

Mrs. Swenson turned and waved at the window, and the girls came streaming in, cheering happily.  They were all armed with colored markers and bright cheerful smiles.

13

“I heard wolves howling last night again.  They could be the wolves that you saw in the forest.  Maybe they missed you,” Jack said happily, feeding Hotch another bite of  hospital lunch.  Mashed potatoes had never tasted so good before.  “Reid said that wolves can be protective spirits too.  They aren’t always bad guys.  Maybe they sat next to you for a while and kept you warm, and that’s why you are okay?”

“Maybe,” Hotch agreed.   Aaron was pretty sure those wolves had been a hallucination, but Jack was absolutely spellbound by the idea that real wolves might have slept next to Hotch when he was alone in the wilderness.

“Reid said that if the wolves were real, that they might be so used to seeing humans hiking and camping in the woods that they might not have thought you were scary enough to bite.  Maybe they hoped you had food with you.  Or they were waiting for you to die so they could eat you.  Could I get a pet wolf?”

“No.  Where is Reid?” Hotch asked with a frown. 

“Maybe they weren’t wolves at all.  Maybe they were werewolves,” Jack whispered gleefully. 

“Jack, where is Reid?” Hotch asked again.

“Getting his ass chewed off by Strauss,” Jack answered blithely.   

“That’s enough of that language,” Hotch frowned. 

“But that’s what Morgan said,” Jack protested, giving Hotch another bite of mashed potatoes.  Hotch chewed and swallowed.

“Did you finish your homework?”

“Not yet.”

“You can finish it on the plane ride back.”

“Are you coming back with me?” Jack hoped. 

“I suspect I am,” Hotch replied morosely, accepting another bite.   One arm in a cast.  The other arm banged up.   One leg in a boot because of a hair-line fracture.  The other foot wrapped due to a sprain.  Yeah, Hotch was definitely looking at a plane ride back to Virginia tomorrow.  Morgan would be finishing this case as the agent in charge. 

“I drew the mountain you crashed on, and then where you went as you walked away,” Jack smiled.

“Great,” Hotch pretended he was thrilled.  He hadn’t so much walked away as he was thrown and limped most ungracefully to safety.   He wondered if Jack was going to tell everyone about the girl scouts who had rescued his dad too.    

“I put Legos everywhere,” Jack said cryptically.   “Red Legos.  Black Legos.  White Legos.”

“Did they find Ranger Richardson?”

“Who is that?”

“The other survivor.”

“No, not yet,” Reid answered from the doorway.  “Strauss brought SAIC Green and his team out to help in the search for Richardson, and also for the unsub, presuming the two are not one in the same.  Garcia is digging into his past even as we speak.”

Hotch darted his eyes that direction and he smiled, then frowned seriously.  His joyful smile broke through again quickly though.  He was so glad to see Spencer that he couldn’t keep his heart buried for too long.  Reid had disobeyed him, and Hotch should be angry, very angry.  He was Reid’s supervisor first and his lover second.  Reid understood that.  Spencer would be expecting a good chastising for what he had done, if not an official discipline for breaking a command.  Maybe he had come here to submit himself for that very purpose. 

“Jack, come with me,” Prentiss said.  She was standing next to Reid, but Hotch hadn’t noticed her until she spoke.  Emily patted the small of Reid’s back reassuringly, and whispered something in his ear that made him turn red and tuck his chin to his chest with a shy smile.  

Prentiss moved into the room.  Jack reluctantly took Emily’s hand.  He was not a happy camper.   When Prentiss carried him past Reid, Jack tugged on the back of Reid’s collar, wanting to take a good grip and climb onto him in order to stay in the room.  But Prentiss detached Jack’s small fingers and carried him out of the room.  He complained loudly the whole way.

Reid approached the bed cautiously, staring anywhere else but into Hotch’s face.  Hotch did his best to sit up straighter.  He pushed the tray of food away on the sliding half-table.  Spencer studied his shoes, his hands, the tile floor.  He sat in the chair Jack had vacated, tucked his knees together, and tried not to shiver.  His scared eyes landed on the cast on Hotch’s left arm.  Those eyes lit up merrily for a few seconds.  Reid reached down and traced three pink hearts with his fingertip.    

“I see a lot of cookies in your future.”

Hotch used his good right hand to take Reid’s closest hand.  The touch drew Reid’s eyes upward and forward again.

“You do do your best work when you’re terrified.  I see what you mean by that.”

“Yes,” Spencer acknowledged. 

“I’m sorry I scared you so badly.”

“Some things are out of our control, whether we like it or not.  I guess the secret to life may lie in knowing when to act and when to sit still.  I couldn’t sit still, so I had to act.  Up.  Out.  Take your pick.”

Reid thumbed away a small fleck of mashed potatoes from Hotch’s stubbly chin. 

“Sorry to spring this all on you,” Hotch whispered. 

“Crashing in Bitterroot or asking me taking care of Jack?”

“Both.”

“Hope I didn’t bore him too much.”

“You didn’t bore him at all.  You knocked his socks off.    He can’t stop talking about you.  Be careful.  He’ll be asking me if he can take you to Show and Tell.  I might let him.”

Reid squinted at him, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“You might be outgrowing the Reid Effect.  You are not as bad with kids as you used to be.”

“Let’s hope not,” Reid rasped dryly.   Another veiled reference to Korsakova’s daughter, Hotch wondered. 

“Morgan said you read the flight manuals on the drive to Andrews?”

“Yes.”

“That’s damned impressive, Reid.”

“Lieutenant Spaulding is an experienced pilot, and a very good teacher.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.  It is very impressive.  But you are never, ever going to do it again, are you?” Hotch growled. 

“No.  Never.  I won’t,” Spencer promised shyly. 

That was about all the anger and annoyance that Hotch could muster at the moment, especially considering that Strauss had just been all over Reid’s thin back with her sharp heels and metal-studded whip.   Hotch was too busy wishing he had both hands free so he could pull Reid under these blankets and have his way with him.  They had been apart for days and days (Hotch couldn’t remember how many but it felt like an insanely-long time to him) and what Aaron wanted the most was Reid snuggled against his side, warm and solid and alive.   Reid stroked the dark arm hairs peeking out of the edge of Hotch’s cast.  He traced warm skin, read Hotch’s pulse, and met Aaron’s eyes again. 

“Can I bring you anything?  Are you thirsty?  Do you want some coffee?” Reid asked. 

“What did Strauss say?” Hotch asked.    Reid’s happiness fizzled into a frown. 

“I am suspended for a month.   She’s putting an official reprimand in my file.  She flew all the way out here to tell me if I ever do anything so stupid again, she is going to throw me in jail and keep me there until I am a tiny, wizened, old man, and while I’m in jail, she won’t give me so much as a cereal box to read.”

“She must be pretty angry with you.”

“Apparently,” Reid broke the word into four dramatic syllables. 

“You left without permission.  Commandeered an aircraft.  Not to mention pulled me back from the jaws of Death.”

“She could barely contain her disappointment,” Spencer teased in a whisper.

Hotch chuckled softly. 

“Oh, and don’t forget crossing state lines with a minor child of whom I am neither a parent nor a guardian.  I’m lucky I’m not in custody,” Reid added with ironic brightness that faded back to humbled concern.    

Hotch’s strong laugh surprised Reid.   His ribs were hurting with every tremble. 

“By the way, your sister-in-law said she is going to personally kick my ass when we land in Virginia.  So there’s that to look forward to.”

Hotch was shaking so hard with silent laughter that the bed rattled.  He braced his ribs with his cast-covered left arm. 

“I think she scares me more than Strauss,” Reid added, raising a brow at him. “What about that is so damned funny, Aaron Hotchner?”

Hotch tugged Reid down to his chest, wrapped his good arm around him, refusing to let go. 

“I will never make you stay home again,” Hotch promised. 

Epilogue

“Where were we?  Yes, yes.  Being thankful.  That’s where we were,” Garcia said, raising her glass.  “A toast!”

“What are we drinking to?” Morgan asked. 

“Life, liberty, and the pursuit of unsubs?” Prentiss suggested. 

“I’ll settle for life,” Hotch added in. 

“Liberty is not bad,” Rossi agreed. 

“No.  We’re drinking to being thankful,” Garcia insisted. 

“Where is Reid this time?  He keeps sneaking away,” JJ muttered, getting up from her seat and going towards the kitchen.    

“I heard the dishwasher kick in,” Morgan answered. 

“Go grab him.  Don’t let him start doing dishes already,” Prentiss pleaded. 

JJ headed into the kitchen.   She dragged Reid back, tugging on the apron around his waist and over his chest.  ‘KISS THE COOK’ it read, and she did, planting a small smooch on his cheek.

“Come on, you.  You aren’t even done eating yet.  The dishes can wait.”

“Sit down,” Hotch pointed with to the chair to his right.   “You are the host.  You have to stay here at the table with us.”

Reid shyly nestled into his chair and asked, “What did I miss?”

“We were discussing what we are grateful for,” Morgan told him, “even though this is November 30, and we missed Thanksgiving dinner by several days, and we’re eating Italian food, and not turkey and dressing.”

“It was a lovely time of year to spend a few days in Dover, Delaware.  Why are you complaining?” Rossi laughed.   “This is about being grateful.”

“I’m grateful my mother is spending a long vacation in Monaco,” Prentiss grinned, taking another sip of wine.  Her berry cobbler pan was empty except for the crumbs around the outside edge, which JJ had been picking at with sharp fingers.   There was about half a square on Reid’s plate, and Spencer had been picking at it with a small fork, but when he had left to get a drink from the kitchen, JJ had started gazing longingly at his dessert plate. 

“I’m grateful year-end reviews are going to be over soon,” Morgan sighed.  “Strauss has been all up my ass this week.  I can’t wait till you’re back, Hotch.”

“Next Monday,” Hotch shivered with happy anticipation.  “Of course, I’ll be stuck in the office for another month after that.  No field work until the boot and the arm cast come off in the first part of January.”

“I’m grateful for Dmitri’s,” Rossi smiled, gazing around the table.  “Not that I don’t trust your cooking, Reid,” he added.  Spencer was smiling faintly, taking a small nip of berry cobbler and putting it in his mouth. 

“I’m grateful for a boyfriend who appreciates that fuzzy handcuffs, leather collars, and tight catsuits are unisex adult toys,” Garcia grinned.  Reid coughed roughly. 

“Thanks for the mental picture, Garcia.  I can’t wait to see Kevin tomorrow,” JJ snickered.   “I am grateful for a boyfriend who likes to watch Monday night football with his son, and gives me time to unwind with my friends.”

“Reid?” Morgan asked.  “What are you grateful for?”

“My friends,” Spencer replied as he watched Hotch, who was grinning slyly back at him.  That smile was making Reid nervous.  It was the exact look Jack usually wore before he was about to do something very naughty.   Reid had had a good deal of time in the last three weeks to get to know Aaron and Jack’s moods pretty well, having spent it in the company of both Hotchners.  Jack was at JJ’s house tonight, watching football with Will and Henry.   Reid’s brain mentally reminded him to pick up Jack when he drove JJ home.  He was so worried he would forget that he had actually written the words on his left hand – ‘Pick up Jack’. 

“Awww,” JJ said, patting Reid’s head.  “We love you too, baby.”

“Yes, we do, baby,” Rossi murmured with sardonic emphasis on the endearment. 

“Hotch?” Morgan asked.  “What about you?”

“Yeah, boss.  What are you grateful for?” Prentiss asked.   “You’ve had a lot of time on your hands lately to think.  You’ve been stuck on the sofa, watching daytime tv, feeling your butt getting big.  What are you grateful for?”

Hotch reached over with his right hand and stroked the wording on the chest of Reid’s apron.  KISS THE COOK.  He traced the entirety of the bright red letters.  He drew his fingertip across the big pink lip impression as well.  Reid watched his hand and was telling him without words that if a nipple-pinch was on his mind, he was about to get punched in the mouth, cast or no cast. 

Rough-housing.  Reid would never become accustomed to the alpha male’s need to rough-house and man-handle subordinate males in their sphere of influence.   Reid understood it was Hotch’s way of showing him who was in charge, cast or no cast, but all the rough treatment was starting to get on Reid’s very last nerve.  He couldn’t count the number of times in the last three weeks that Hotch had grabbed at him for no good reason, pinned and held him, bit him, pinched him.  Tickled him until he was gasping for breath!   Reid would not fight back because he was worried about hurting Hotch, but he was tired of all the bruises and bumps. 

Hotch’s three long weeks of medical leave had been spent in Reid’s company, living every moment at his side either here at Reid’s house or at home at his own place.  Strauss had suspended Reid for the duration of Hotch’s absence.   They were both off for another week.   Reid had taken to hiding in the empty guest bedroom closet when he wanted peace and quiet.   Hotch had found him in there with a flashlight and a book on more than one occasion. 

True to her word, Strauss had written an official reprimand that had gone into Reid’s permanent file.  Morgan had secretly brought Hotch a copy of it.  Hotch had had three weeks to stew about it, and planned to write an official rebuttal when he was back in the office next Monday.  However, Hotch wanted to have a private talk with Strauss about the reprimand first.  Reid had been ordered to stay at home because he was in trouble.   Hotch had been ordered to stay off his feet and rest.  He couldn’t even drive.   Stairs were difficult but not impossible to navigate.   Why was there part of Hotch’s brain that said maybe Strauss had orchestrated Reid’s suspension because Hotch had needed someone by his side to take care of him?  Maybe she was doing him a favor by giving him Reid to wait on him hand and foot.  Should he be scared or grateful?

“I’m grateful for a lot of things, but mostly for all of you.  You are my family.  I can’t put it into words how much you mean to me.  But I suspect you understand, don’t you?”

There was a choked-up chorus of mumbled replies as everyone tried not to cry.  They had come too close to losing one of their own, and they never wanted to get that close ever again. 

“We know you’re grateful for all of us, but what are you especially grateful for?” Prentiss pressed, looking from him to Reid and back again.  She wanted him to say something nice to Reid.  Hotch understood.   Aaron’s eyes lit up with mischief again. 

“I’m especially grateful for disobedient geniuses who look good in wool sweaters.”

“Aww,” Emily sighed, patting Reid on the head.   

Reid was turning pink.  He covered his eyes with one hand.   Hotch took the hand away and held it in his own.   He kissed the long, graceful fingers, in lieu of the passionate kiss he wanted to plant on Reid’s berry-stained lips.  What Hotch wanted more than anything was to pull Reid into his lap and giving him a peck in front of everyone.   Alas, these three weeks of medical leave had passed without much more than a chaste kiss between the two of them.  Reid had taken the doctor’s orders about Hotch’s health and safety to such an extreme that ‘no sex’ had been the first words out of his mouth when he had decided that he would be taking care of Hotch.   Aaron wasn’t sure he was going to last much longer without sex.  He might take to the cast and boot with a hacksaw soon.  Especially if Reid kept giving him that doe-eyed look which pleaded for Aaron to behave himself, which request he was about to wreck altogether. 

“So I’ve been meaning to ask for the longest time.   What’s your view on collars and catsuits?” Hotch purred to Reid.  A sly smile twisted Aaron’s mouth sideways.    

Reid inhaled like someone had driven an axe through his foot.   The rest of the team howled like a locker room full of teenage boys.  Rossi stood up and took the bottle of wine away from Hotch’s plate.

“No more for you tonight,” Dave chided, still laughing. 

more to come

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