The team wrapped up the case in an unusually neat bow. They caught the killer with a simple Garcia designed trap. An Internet chat, turned into real life meet-up and ambush by the BAU. Morgan was blindsided by the shear mass of the guy and as he grappled to get the upper hand, the unsub landed a solid blow to Hotch's solar plexus.
Once the fiend was subdued and in handcuffs, the team took stock of the situation. Hotch lay groaning on the floor, Morgan was mopping up a freely bleeding nose and JJ looked triumphant at having the pleasure to handcuff the criminal. Prentiss advised Morgan, "don't lean back with a bloody nose," she scolded. "You'll find yourself throwing up all that blood. Instead, lean forward and apply pressure." Morgan looked annoyed, but rolled his eyes as he leaned forward. Paramedics began to arrive.
Rossi was checking on Hotch, who was still motionless on the ground. "Aaron, are you ok?" He leaned over his friend.
Aaron put a hand on his belly and one on Rossi and he tried to find his breath. After gasping several times, he managed a typically brief response, "I'm fine."
"Sure, you say that, Aaron, but your color is terrible." Rossi motioned to the medics, "Abdominal trauma, check him thoroughly." The medics swarmed him. Rossi frowned and observed the scene.
The BAU convened in the hotel lobby.
"I can't believe we've got the ok to fly home tonight!" Prentiss mentioned to Morgan. They sat chatting on a couch in the comfortable, yet sterile room.
"You said it," Morgan replied, "I was hoping to get home to watch the game on a big screen."
They watched as each member of the team trickled in with bags. JJ came chatting with her hubs on her cell phone. She had picked up a bag of sandwiches for the team. Rossi has snagged a newspaper and was beginning to leaf through it. Reid had his ever present bag of books. Hotch came in looking unusually pale and haggard. Prentiss shot Morgan a look as they both watched Hotch gingerly place his bag on the ground.
"Is he ok?" She whispered, turning her face away from Hotch so he couldn't see her concern.
"I don't know. The medics released him, I wonder if he's hurting worse than he let on so we could go home sooner." Morgan rubbed his goatee.
Aaron couldn't wait to get his team on that plane and back home. He felt like sleeping for 16 hours straight. He found himself swaying slightly, so he found an armchair and sat as they waited for the jet to be ready.
Aaron watched his team board the airplane. He felt so proud of them. Morgan was in front of him. "How's the nose, Morgan?"
"Hurts like hell, but I have some ibuprofen. Once I get ahold of one of those sandwiches, I'm going to take a couple." He turned to Aaron, "how're you doing? That unsub really clocked you!"
"I'm fine. Sore, but fine. No broken ribs at least." Aaron winced as he hefted his bag into the overhead compartment.
"Let me help you with that, boss."
"I've got it, thanks."
The team settled in as the jet took off. JJ passed the sandwiches around. Aaron pulled out the case folders from his briefcase. He started filling out the appropriate forms and final report for the commissioner. Mostly, he was trying not to notice the nagging symptoms from the fight. He wanted to get home as soon as possible and downplayed his pain and tenderness. His side was throbbing where the unsub kicked him. He felt a little nauseated and was trying to ignore the paper wrapped sandwich that JJ had dropped on his table. He moved it to his briefcase. Rossi sat across from him, "Not hungry?"
"No." Aaron gave him his best neutral gaze. "I'll eat it later. "
Rossi returned the neutral stare and pressed him. "How are you doing, Aaron?"
Aaron wanted to say, good, or I'm fine, but a sharp stab of pain caused him to double over onto the desk. He pressed his forearm into his side and quietly gasped, "Ohh."
Dave got up and sat in the empty seat next to Hotch. "What's going on?" He pressed his friend.
Aaron continued to lean forward, "Oh, I'm ok. Muscle cramp, probably."
The team was so used to Hotch being the old reliable anchor. They immediately noticed the sudden commotion. Morgan sat forward, ready to jump in. The rest waited to see what would happen.
Rossi peered at him closely, "Aaron, you're pale and sweaty. And having pain. I haven't ever seen you turn down a sandwich at the end of a 14 hour day. "
Hotch seemed to gather his strength for a minute. He was truly starting to feel unwell, but it was such a public place, the BAU jet. He waited until the last possible moment before answering with a strangled, "Dave, I need help getting up."
Rossi moved swiftly. Aaron looked pale and was breathing shallowly. Dave slipped the papers to the floor and folded the table down. Aaron stood shakily, still gripping his side. "Bathroom." He murmured, nearly tripping over Dave as he staggered to the aisle. Reid was just leaving the bathroom, as Hotch pushed past him to the lavatory. The door banged open and Reid could hear the sound of his boss gagging forcefully. Rossi was on Hotch's heels and stopped next to Reid as he heard Hotch throwing up. "What's going on?" Reid asked.
"I'm not sure yet, kid." Rossi poked his head into the tiny bathroom.
Aaron was heaving into the tiny airplane toilet. He felt suddenly ashamed and graceless, knowing that everyone was listening. His stomach finally stopped spasming after several long minutes. He looked up as he wiped his mouth on a tissue and caught Rossi's concerned gaze. "I'll be out in a minute. I'm ok." He tried to sound firm and reassuring.
Dave took a step back, "ok, but I'm right here and will come back in if you're not out soon."
Aaron pulled himself out of a crouch and held onto the sink. He rinsed his mouth with water and wondered what was going on. His side was throbbing painfully. The vomiting seemed to have passed. He wiped his face one more time with a towel and grabbed an air sick bag just in case. He pushed the door open and was greeted with a very concerned Rossi.
"I think I need to lie down," Aaron whispered to Rossi. He was starting to feel dizzy and lightheaded again.
Rossi nodded, gripping his arm as he led him to the couch. "Go get a blanket," Rossi pointed Reid to the closet.
Aaron sat carefully on the sofa with Rossi's help. JJ crouched in front of Aaron, speaking softly. "I brought you some water and here's a ginger ale. Do you want to try one of them?"
He swallowed thickly, took a deep breath and reached for the can of ginger ale. Sitting felt ok. He took a few long sips of the soda, trying not to drain the entire can at once. He briefly thought about how much he disliked this helpless position.
"Go easy, Aaron." JJ patted his arm. "Too much at once is going to come back on you..." She rose and went to stand with Spencer in the aisle.
Rossi took the can from him and put it on the table next to the couch. Hotch accepted the blanket from him with a nod and lay down. He could hear them whispering about him, but found he had little energy to care or be embarrassed. It felt good to lie down, but he had the nagging suspicion that he wasn't finished being sick. The soda weighed heavily in his stomach. The nausea continued to build until he couldn't ignore it any longer. When his stomach started cramping, he sat abruptly and shakily continued back to the bathroom. Another sharp swell of pain brought tears to his eyes. He moaned and crumpled to his knees. Reid was closest and kept him from falling to the ground.
"Reid," Hotch gasped, "help me to the bathroom, and hand me one of those bags."
Spencer hustled him into the tiny bathroom and grabbed a bag. Hotch grappled with his pants. He looked pleadingly at Spencer, "Give me a minute."
Reid closed the door, "Oh man, he has it bad." He frowned at JJ and Rossi. "How long until we land?"
JJ looked at her phone, "It'll be another two hours at least. Do you think he needs to go to the hospital?"
"I don't know. I'll see if I can catalogue his symptoms when he comes out. So far it seems like food poisoning or the flu, but he took that blow to the gut a few hours ago." Reid looked to Rossi.
"JJ, why don't you go sit. Reid and I can help Hotch when he's ready. I want Dr. Reid to help figure out whether we need to divert the flight and find a closer hospital." She nodded and went back with the rest of the team. Filling them in took very little time since she didn't know much.
In the bathroom, Aaron spent an agonizing 10 minutes retching into a paper bag while his bowels emptied. This was not the best time for the flu. Was there ever a good time? Although he was beginning to have doubts about whether it was the flu. His belly pain was increasing.
Rossi poked his head in, "Hotch, I know you're feeling pretty miserable. Do you need help?"
Hotch groaned, "I need a little more time."
Rossi and Spencer waited on the couch. Morgan approached them.
"We should make an emergency stop, guys. I have never seen him like this before. I'm getting worried." Morgan rubbed the back of his head.
"I'm worried too, Morgan." Rossi looked up to see Hotch in the hallway looking green and miserable. He jumped up and gently took his arm.
"Are you ok, Aaron?" Rossi asked, watching his friend carefully.
"I'm fine." He glanced at Dave, "ok, not great at the moment." Hotch moaned as he lay down on the couch.
Rossi knelt down next to the couch, "Aaron, can you tell Spence what your symptoms are? I think you need another medical evaluation and he is the closest we have to a doctor. "
Reid changed positions with Rossi. "So, Hotch, you've been sick?" He swallowed uncomfortably as he realized the awkwardness of the exchange.
Hotch nodded, "I think I'll be ok, just get me home. I'll rest at home. "
"Hotch, the sudden onset of your illness has everyone a little worried. Humor us so we can be a little more certain you don't have something more serious going on." Rossi stood in the doorway looking stern.
Aaron sighed. He was starting to feel chills. He shifted so he could sit up a bit. The movement caused more stabbing pains in his side. As the pain washed over him, he felt the bile in his throat rise again. He tried to get up, but Reid could see what was happening. He thrust a bag in front of Hotch, who had no choice but to use it. He spat bile and mucous. His body trembled and sweated as the vomiting continued. When he finally lay back, exhausted, Rossi handed him a bottle of water. Hotch took a small amount in his mouth and spat it back into the bag.
"I'm sorry," Hotch said, closing his eyes and wiping away tears, "I hate this."
"Hotch, I know you've been vomiting multiple times, do you have any abdominal pain?"
Reid asked.
"Yes." Aaron kept his eyes closed.
"Ok. I need to palpate your abdomen. It'll take just a moment." As Reid lifted the blanket, he could feel Hotch shaking. Hotch winced as he lifted his shirt.
Reid could see where he'd been kicked and punched. The skin was darkening to a nasty purple shade. He gently placed his fingers on the lower right quadrant. Hotch hissed in pain.
"Ok, let's put the shirt down now." Reid pulled up the blanket, stood and turned to Rossi.
"Can I talk to you?" Reid pulled Dave out of earshot. "This is extremely serious. We need to get him to a hospital ASAP. Abdominal guarding and distention indicates that he's bleeding internally. We have to get him into surgery before he bleeds out."
Rossi felt his stomach drop, "Tell the team what's going on. I'm going to redirect the jet to the nearest hospital."
Spencer turned to face Hotch. All eyes looked to Reid for news. "We're heading to the nearest hospital. You could be bleeding internally." He knelt again in front of Hotch.
Aaron opened his eyes and pressed his arm against his side.
"Are you sure this is necessary?" Hotch groaned, twisting his body to relieve the pain. "What if this is just food poisoning?"
"Hotch, what if it isn't food poisoning?" Reid looked so reasonable. "Also, I haven't seen you eat anything since breakfast. Toast doesn't cause this."
Aaron lay back, feeling strangely calm. His eyes felt heavy and he gave in to sleep.