Frigid water splattered over the ceramic tiles of Spencer Reid's shower but he took no notice. The swirling pools of blood down the drain were what grasped his focus. The numbness that he felt as he had left Aaron Hotchner's Georgetown apartment that morning had eased only bearably under the penetrating slap of the water on his shoulders. It was bruising but he relinquished his only strength to just stand there. Stand there and watch as a stranger's blood came loose from under his fingernails and ran in rivers down his legs only to disappear, to be forgotten forever.

Like he had been forgotten in Hotch's eyes.

The light from the bathroom was the only source of levity in the entire apartment for Reid had taken to drowning his sorrows in darkness over the years. And this was no different. It hadn't escaped the young agent that at the end of the day, their work was demoted to this: a single shower to wash away the ugliness of humanity in the hope that it would wipe away the bigger demons, the bigger problems.

That it would erase any traces of the man who had beaten him down, torn at his heart, cast him into the ashes.

It was all too surreal. A week ago he had been sliding cautiously over Hotch's hotel bed to comfort a man so broken, so completely burned, it seemed that only Reid could harbor the energy to piece him back together. Only days ago, they had sat together in the dimmed lighting of a hotel bathroom in North Dakota while Reid began to comfort the broken man, to trace his scars in the hopes of healing what little pain he could. His lips burned with the desire to draw Hotch into a breathless kiss so full of something that it could possibly repair the impenetrable damage done over this case. Over their feelings for each other.

Reid let an airless moan escape his tightened lips as he let his body slump against the viciously cold wall. The pain of Hotch's words burned so bright in his chest he thought he might pass out.

I can't fucking do this.

I'm better off alone.

It all just got too…

Hard.

Reid knew Hotch was going to say complicated or out of control. So much of their communication was left unspoken, their lustful actions a whisper in the night come morning, that their regretful ending need not be put into words. He looked at his arms, bruised only lightly from the UnSub's attempt of hurting him, but it was his heart that had been bruised and battered beyond recognition. A single thought of Hotch's lips against his inner thigh flashed in his mind. The night their inhibitions had been let loose, when all the walls came down and it had been Hotch thrusting his thigh in between Reid's spread legs, grinding his erection against his hips, fingers plunged into his hair and tongue buried deep within his hot, wet, mouth that was an image that had become engraved in Reid's heart. It was when Hotch that been forgotten and Aaron had been set free to escape and to throw caution to the wind in his unbridled desires.

What had gone wrong?

I thought I was the exception, Reid thought grimly, twisting his arms around his knees. The temperature of the water had been abandoned and Reid couldn't bring himself to move from his rooted spot. He had the feeling of the craving but it wasn't the drugs that kept him from moving. He craved the wish to return to the first crime scene when everything was seemingly simple. When he could bury himself in Hotch's arms, let the man nuzzle his nose into his hair like he loved, murmur that he would never enter into a hostage situation unarmed and unprotected again. When he could smooth away Hotch's frown with the tips of his fingers like he had done before and perhaps soothe the man's congealing mess of emotions and tell him he would be there. That he needed him to be there. That when he had told Hotch all he wanted in life was to love and have love that it was he who he had been referring to. That when he had touched his lips to Hotch's scars he had felt something so unattainable and unimaginable that Reid was unsure as to whether he would ever feel like that again. That when he had unbuttoned Hotch's shirt on the bed and buried his hand down his trousers it was a promise to the man that he would work as hard as he could to make the same feeling return.

It was warm. And safe. Hotch was safe. His arms were possessive as they rubbed small circles over Reid's back and drew him into a body that offered complete solace at the time. Reid wasn't ignorant. He knew over time, as they had grown closer, that Hotch had become spooked by his feelings for his subordinate. He had been so comforting at the beginning, pulling Reid close in his bed in Pennsylvania and so protective over him at the crime scenes and Reid knew it had been when he entered into the house with the UnSub that Hotch had made himself shut down for the sake of his sanity and for his heart. He knew it had been Hayley all over again: the silent house, the body on the floor, the agonizing emptiness of voices and reassurance that Reid would get back up, that Reid would hold Hotch in his arms while he cried for his loss again, that Reid would be there for as long as Hotch would let him. Hotch had shrouded his heart in darkness and refused to let himself be hurt again after all that he had experienced. The scars were evidence enough of how Hotch had been ripped apart, beaten until he couldn't breath it hurt so bad. And Reid had been careless, neglectful, in Hotch's eyes. The separation between a noble agent and a reckless lover that been significantly blurred.

God how he longed to just rid himself of this feeling of loss. That comfort had been ripped out from under him and he knew he shouldn't want to forgive Hotch, he should be angry, but he wouldn't let himself. He wouldn't let himself turn into a cold shadow of what he had been years ago first entering into the BAU. He wanted to remain as the shield to all of Aaron Hotchner's darkness. He had never given himself to anyone the way he had given himself to his unattainable superior.

The light in your eyes.

I don't think you care because you know I'll always be there.

His words haunted him. Would be always be there for Hotch? Would he let Hotch back into his life? The answers escaped him, evaded his capable mind, for unknown sounds came to light at the front of his apartment.

The familiar bang of the door as it swung shut with the howling wind and unforgivable snow flurries.

The determined feet that beat determined steps over the dark cherry wood floors.

"Am I out of my mind?" Reid whispered, tears clouding his eyes.

There was no sign of him but SSA Aaron Hotchner felt his presence everywhere as he entered Reid's apartment. He was in the sloping cream and tan files that were strewn in piles on his desk. He was in the cup of sweetened coffee that stood solo next to an aged leather notebook that could have held hundreds of secrets. He was in the tower of books that heroically stood in place of an end table. He was in the pair of vintage Ray-Ban Wayfarers that glittered blackly in the dark of the night on the kitchen counter. He was in the stillness of the calm and apparently vacant apartment, waiting. Waiting. He had become a haunting presence that shadowed the Unit Chief in every footstep, parting breath, single thought he experienced.

But Hotch knew it was only a matter of time before he reached his end point. His destination. He had sat on the edge of his bed where Reid had left him for the entirety of the day. Their paperwork day had been put off until tomorrow following a single phone call to Strauss so there was no need to leave the house. Jack was at Jess's for the weekend with his cousins so there was no need to even leave the bed. He had just rotted away as the hours ticked by on the clock above his bed. The sheets were still mussed from sleep and Hotch had felt Reid there with him. His savory scent still cloaked his pillows and pajamas and he had been reluctant to wash it away because it had meant the end of what they developed.

He had confused a moment of panic for a moment of enlightenment as he sat observing the radiant pools of light that gathered from the open blinds to shine over the carpeted bedroom floor when he had woken up.

It had been finally light, clear in his mind, that having Reid gone from his life, had been a rash and awful decision. He had clenched his hands so tightly from his stupidity. So what if he was scared? Reid was scared too, but he didn't run at the first signs of panic. He hadn't felt scared when they had sat on the edge of the bathtub, leaning into each other's caresses in the dark of their hotel room. He hadn't felt scared as his lips pressed against Reid's, inhaling the sweet scent of the man in his arms. He hadn't felt scared as he had pressed Reid into the mattress, kissing him senseless and slamming his hips down in a wanton signal that he wanted more. He hadn't felt scared as he nuzzled his lips against the back of Reid's neck and pulled him on top of his chest to sleep for the night.

It had been when he realized that he liked it, loved, that Reid was in his arms and that in a second gone wrong in a case it could be ripped away from him. Just like it had been torn from his arms a year ago. But Hotch didn't give up things. He wasn't a quitter. Sure he left things in the past but he had been a man driven by his emotions when he finally moved. It had been six in the evening when he had dislodged himself from his bent position, joints cracking with effort as he dressed in jeans and the fleece he had given to Reid over the course of the case.

The wind howled around the outside of his apartment but he hadn't ignored the frost as he crossed the apartment parking lot to his car. He had ignored it too when he parked his car next to Reid's in the agent's underground garage, taken Reid's spare key and climbed the seven flights of stairs to his apartment, fear mounting in each step.

I've ruined it.

It's too late.

You fucked up, Aaron.

It's too late to apologize. You destroyed him.

If I don't try, I'll never know.

He didn't know what he would do if Reid didn't take him back. He had been a fool to discard all what had been built up over the past week. How had he just let himself evaporate over the course of the week? How had such a mild man steadily broken down the walls that Hotch frantically erected for protection? How would he deal each and every day at work if he could feel Reid's seething glare on the back of his neck or witness the desperate sadness in his eyes as they sat across from each other at the round table? How could he live with himself if he had caused Reid to become distraught enough that he would spiral back into using again? How would Jack like it if he knew his father was a monster who had taken the life right out his beloved Uncle Spencer like Foyet had murdered it right out of his mother? He just didn't know what he would do.

Hotch also knew it was only a matter of time before Dr. Spencer Reid rose like a phoenix from the ashes he had been cast into to haunt him for good if he didn't let the agent in if all was forgiven. If he kept himself buried in darkness.

He needed Reid. He needed to be needed by Reid.

He needed to see the light in his eyes.

There was no sign of him as Hotch had unlocked the door, stepping into a lonely hallway. The sound of a shower running had been his only clue, a small sliver of light beaming over the floors at the back of the apartment.

"Am I out of my mind?" He whispered, crossing the floor in quick-paced movements to reach his end point.

There was no sign of him.

But SSA Aaron Hotchner felt his presence everywhere.

And he would be damned if he let Reid go this time.

Hope you guys like the beginning of "Out Of Your Mind"! It will be the sequel to "The Light In Your Eyes". I know everyone hated the ending of the first story but of course Hotch goes after Reid! How could he not? Stay tuned to see if Reid takes him back.

Please review!