I just couldn't get this story out of my mind! Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds.

What was He Thinking?

What the hell was he thinking? What made him think he was sane enough to go through all of this? First they lost Emily, then he was forced to lie about losing Emily. Then he got sent to Pakistan and just after he had received the custody papers involving Jack. Then the laughing started. Which led to voices, and now it was to the point of hallucinations. He could barely keep it together in Pakistan, how could he handle things here?

It had been another long day. Taking the camouflage paint off his face he noticed how the stubble on his face and now grown into a mini beard. Oh well. There were no razors in this part of Pakistan anyway, to easily a weapon. Then he heard it. The laughing that had haunted him everywhere in his dreams and now in the real world. They sent you out here to crack the voice taunted. They knew you were slipping because of how you handled me, they knew you were a killer, so they sent you here to crack. Some peace mission. They knew if they made you a marine again, it would finally push you over the edge and then they won't have to deal with the aftermath. They could just blame it all PTSD. As Hotch looked into the mirror, he was horrified to see Foyet standing behind him. And he was pointing a gun, just like all those years ago. You're losing everything, and it wasn't even my fault this time. It's yours. Enraged Hotch slammed his fist against the mirror, causing it to shatter into a million pieces and fall to the ground. "Hotchner get out here, you may have finished one mission but this one is just starting!" His commanding officer yelled. So Hotch ignored the deranged laughing, grabbed his dog tags and gun as he walked out of the makeshift tent; ready to finish his mission. "Are you ready for this marine?!" his officer yelled. "Yes Sir!"

And just like that he was brought home, they brought Emily back, found Doyle, killed Doyle, and now he was in front of Garcia's very…colorful apartment. She had threatened to work her 'All-knowing oracle of wisdom, magic' and send him back to Pakistan if he didn't agree to come here with the rest of the team. And there was no way he was going back there after what he had been through. Oh well. It's not like he had any reason to go back to his apartment anyway. Haley's parents had filed for custody before he (was forced to leave) left and he wasn't allowed any contact with Jack until after the trial. So here he was. Standing in front of Garcia's door. Hearing Foyet's laugh, clutching at his dog tags and debating on whether or not he should ditch the cane before he knocked. Sure he could hardly walk without it, but why should he care? Maybe he would be lucky enough to fall over and get taken back to the hospital. And it might stop the questioning as to why he had it, if anybody cared that is. He had started to lose everything the moment Emily left, and now that he was back, everything worth coming back home for was gone. Reid, Morgan and Rossi would hardly even look at him. JJ and Emily couldn't care less about him, what mattered was the rest of the team. Garcia had to force herself to make eye contact, and he couldn't even call Jack. So he pulled out his meds, (for physical and mental pain) took a couple and knocked on the door in front of him.

"Boss man, come on into my second liar!" Garcia said swinging the door open to allow him entrance.

As he walked in everyone glanced up briefly to see who had come in, then instantly looked away. Wow. The tension was so thick he could feel it dragging at his cane as he tried to wade through the room. Sitting down on the least fluffy chair insight, he felt his body cringe at the contact of any kind of surface. Oh well. He really didn't care right now.

"Alright lets get this party started!" Garcia yelled running back into the room with snack trays in hand.

After about twenty minutes of failed bonding time, Hotch had enough. "Alright everyone's thinking it, but apparently I'm the only one with enough guts to say anything. Garcia this sucks and please stop being so cheery. As for the rest of you, I don't care. Can I go now?"

"How can you say that? We are all having a great time right?" She questioned. Receiving no answer she let out a sigh and gave in. "Alright so this does suck. I'm just trying to help all of you out, that's all."

"It's alright mama." Morgan told her putting his arm around her shoulders and giving them a squeeze.

"No it's far from alright." Hotch said standing and once again wincing. "So can I go now, or not?"

"What's with the cane Hotch?" Reid questioned quietly.

"As if you care." Hotch replied harshly. And why would they care about a killer? Foyet sneered. "Shut up!" Hotch yelled. "I sure as hell don't need this here too."

"Hotch who are you talking to?" JJ asked.

"None of your damn business!" Tisk, Tisk Aaron. They have a right to know that you're insane. It was at that moment that he realized how alone he was. The only people he could talk to were right in front of him. And they would only look at him now that he was screaming at the voices in his head. He felt himself shutting down. "Whatever. I'm leaving." He said and just started to walk away.

"Hotch, what's going on with you?" Rossi asked, not even looking at him.

"None of you care anyway. Look at all of you. Garcia, you have to force yourself to look at me, but you won't even spare a glance to Emily or JJ. Morgan and Reid, you refuse to even acknowledge mine, Emily's or JJ's presence. Rossi, you feel betrayed by me that I didn't even tell you that Emily was alive. JJ and Emily, you both care so much about what the team thinks about you, that you aren't giving them time to let all of this soak in and neither one of you have said a word to me since Doyle was killed. No one here really cares. And I can honestly say that I don't either." Hotch replied. Sure you don't. Just like you didn't feel afraid when I was standing behind you in your apartment all those years ago. "You're wrong. I don't care and I was never afraid of you!" Hotch replied. You are and you always will be.

"Whatever. I'm sick of you," he said turning to point where Foyet was 'standing' "and I'm sick of all of you." He turned pointing to the rest of the team.

"Aaron what happened to you?" Rossi asked gasping as he finally looked at his so called friend. He looked scrawny, withdrawn and with sunken features. His eyes almost completely lifeless. His beard almost covering his taut features. He looked like he had been through hell. What had really happened while he was away? Go ahead and tell them. You're already a monster, might as well be a crazy one. Foyet laughed and continued, you are just as guilty for Emily leaving as you were with Haley's death he sneered.

"I've officially lost just about everything. But who cares right? All of you have bigger problems." Hotch sneered. Go ahead, tell them Aaron. Tell them what they did to you in Pakistan. How you held on, how you kept living, because you thought that there was a family waiting and wanting you to come home. But they don't want you back, do they? They would have rather had you die in Pakistan! Because you lied and ruined their lives! This is your fault! "You're wrong!" Hotch screamed, throwing something that was in his hands at where Foyet was 'standing' as he ran out of the room.

Everyone just sat there for a few seconds. Finally Rossi stood and walked over to the object Hotch had thrown. He could have sworn he recognized the shape of it, but he prayed that he was wrong. As he picked up said item, he read the name Aaron Hotchner on a pair of marine dog tags. "Oh no." Rossi said stunned. "You guys, I know that we all kind of hate each other right now, but if we don't help Hotch, he might not ever come back." Rossi told them, running out Garcia's door trying to find Hotch.

"He's right we do." Morgan said finally. "But something is beyond wrong with Hotch and he needs us. If all of you are willing to put this behind you for now, then I am too." Everyone agreed and started following Rossi's car.

As he stumbled into his apartment Foyet was already there, laughing at his pitifulness. He ran to the liquor cabinet, not even bothering with a glass, he chugged almost half of the bottle, praying that it eased all the pain. Finally Foyet disappeared, voice and all. Leaving Hotch to half a bottle of Scotch, pain that was slowly numbing and a brain that couldn't think straight. He sat on the floor for a few minutes, trying to remember why he felt pain and guilt with every fiber in his being. Finally he gave up as he finished off the bottle only to open another one. A knock sounded at his door, which sounded an awful lot like the thunder that was going on that day. He couldn't help but feel afraid at that noise. It was if his life had just flashed before his eyes. If he ever heard that noise again… he didn't even know if he could pull himself out of it again. Out of all the hallucinations and the feeling of being back in that hell hole. He could feel all of his training suddenly kick in. No matter how drunk he was, he would never be able to forget his training, or what happened after said training. As he stood up, he barely made it to the door without falling flat on his face. Opening the door he found his team staring back at him. He tried to slam it closed, but they pushed their way in. Oh well, he thought as he walked back to his spot on the floor. As long as they kept their distance. He hated the feelings he felt right now.

"Hotch, what happened while you were away?" Morgan finally asked.

That caused Hotch to laugh. A sickening laugh, that made your blood run cold. "I think the better question is what didn't happen." He replied taking another swig of Scotch.

"Alright, why were you sent away from the team?" JJ asked, as she moved to sit down next to Hotch.

"Don't come any closer." Hotch suddenly said, pulling out his gun and pointing it at JJ.

"Hotch what are you doing?" JJ asked afraid.

"Stay away from me." He replied with a dangerous look in his eyes. But there was something else in those dark orbs. Something unreadable.

"Hotch what the hell?! Put the gun down!" Morgan yelled. But Hotch only cocked the gun as a reply.

"It's alright." Rossi said in a calming voice. "We can all stay right here, and not even move alright? And our hands will stay right in front of us the whole time. Does that sound ok?"

Hotch only nodded slightly, laying the gun across his lap, finally putting the bottle away. No matter how much Rossi might hate him, he trusted the man more than anyone in the world. Not to mention he understood some of what he had lived through. So he allowed Rossi to sit down, somewhat close to him.

"What did you throw back at Garcia's apartment?" Emily asked. Still wary of the way her boss had reacted to JJ.

"You left these." Rossi said ignoring Emily and holding up the dog tags. "Do you want them back?"

"Sure." Hotch shrugged. "Here put it in this." He said sliding a camouflaged helmet towards Rossi.

"What's this?" Reid asked, pulling a tattered photo out of the helmet. It was of the whole team. They were at the park with Jack, Henry and Will.

"Put it back." Hotch ordered angrily, getting that dangerous look back in his eyes.

"Reid put it back, now!" Rossi yelled at the younger man.

"What did I do?" Reid asked still confused.

"Give me that back!" Hotch screamed lunging at Reid. He pinned him to the ground within three seconds and twisted his arms, almost to the point of dislocating them.

"Hotch get off of him!" Morgan yelled, running to grab Hotch's shoulders.

"Take one step closer and his arms get ripped out of their sockets. Give me back the photo." Hotch said angrily.

"Aaron just take it easy." Rossi pleaded trying to calm him down. "He doesn't understand, not like we do; not like I do. You know that we aren't trying to hurt you." Silence. "You know that I would never try to hurt you."

Finally Hotch got off of Reid, snatched the discarded photo of the ground and went to sit down in the corner of the living room. You refused to look anyone in the eyes, instead he gazed longingly at the photograph he held.

"Alright Rossi, what the hell is going on?" Morgan demanded as the whole team took a step backwards, especially Reid.

"Nothing that any of you could ever understand." Rossi replied harshly. And with that, he walked over and sat down near Hotch.

"We need to get to the bottom of this." JJ said adamantly.

"Easy for you to say. He didn't pin you to the ground and twist your arms out of there sockets." Reid replied, stretching out his aching arms.

"No JJ's right." Emily said. "If Hotch were his usual self, there's no way he would be acting like the way he is now. Can we put our feelings aside long enough to try and help Hotch?"

"I think I speak for everyone when I say that we will do anything to help our boss man." Garcia replied, everyone nodding their head in approval.

Meanwhile, Rossi sat silently in the corner near Hotch, just looking at the photo. After what felt like an eternity, Hotch finally spoke up. "It's called a life line." he said quietly.

"What did you say?" Garcia asked.

"I said it's called a life line."

"What do you mean?" Reid asked tentatively.

"He means that it keeps you grounded." Rossi spoke up. Receiving only confused looks as a response, he continued to explain. "Everything we see every day is enough to destroy a person. So when asked why we do our jobs, we all have a reason that keeps us going. When someone is fighting, they need to remember why they're fighting. Most people keep photos to remind them. That's why you have this, isn't it?" Rossi asked pointing to the photo.

"Yes." Hotch said quietly. "The thought of it being out of my grasp… it scares me. I can't lose it. Not after everything that it's been through. Not after everything that I've been through."

"Aaron, you don't have to talk if you don't want to. But you know that talking about it will make you feel better." Rossi cooed.

"I don't even know where to begin." Hotch replied, bringing his knees up to his chest. Turning in on himself as much as he could. Rossi simply reached out a hand and placed it on his shoulder, causing the younger man to flinch at the contact. So as Rossi removed his hand, he asked quietly, "Is it ok if you give me the gun and they sit down?" Receiving only a slight nod in response, he carefully removed the gun from his friends grasp and passed it on to Morgan as the team sat down near Hotch. Keeping their distance of course.

"What happened Hotch?" Emily finally asked.

"What happened was you left us." He said sadly.

"But I don't understand…"

"Then allow me to explain it to you." He said dryly. The man had changed moods more times within an hour than he ever had over a day's time. "Once you left, the CIA thought it was too tempting for me to be around the team, that I might tell the truth. So they sent me to Pakistan, on a peace mission. Some peace mission that was. What they really wanted was to have Aaron Hotchner the marine back. The one who always got the job done. That's right, I'm a marine. And I hope I never have to be again." He said, curling back in on himself. "I'm sorry Reid. I didn't mean to do what I did, it's just that…" But he was cut off by a loud boom of thunder. He let out a blood freezing scream as he covered his ears with his hands. "Make it stop! Make it STOP!" He continued screaming. Clawing at his ears causing himself to bleed. The ringing and the explosions wouldn't stop. He could feel the pain with every fiber of his being. Everything they did, plus all the emotional pain causing him to want to cry. Cry from pain, sadness, anger and exhaustion. Finally tired of containing all of his emotions at all times, he let everything out.

A loud roar of thunder drowned out Aaron's already quiet voice. All the team could do was stare in shock as Hotch started to scream and cry out. Rossi just stared at the man before him. The scream that sounded made him forget all the misgivings and harsh feelings he had been feeling towards his friend. All the anger and hate and betrayal went out the window as he looked at his friends face. He heard him scream, and he literally felt his heart tear in two at seeing such a strong man reduced to a sobbing heap. He instantly wrapped his arms around Hotch. But that only made him scream and plead louder. He started fighting the grip that he had on him, doing everything he could to get away Rossi. Finally he pulled back to inspect his friends face. It was tear and blood stained, his own hands causing the damage. His eyes were clouded and full of fear and pain, his whole face racked with guilt. Afraid the man might finally go over the edge, he wrapped his arms around him again. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally felt Aarons arms wrap back around him, in a death grip as he continued to sob. As he went to move away, he felt the younger man's grip tighten and heard him start crying harder. "Please don't leave me." Hotch whimpered. "Please, not again."

"I won't leave you Aaron. There isn't anything in this world that could make me leave your side right now. Everything is ok." He replied, whispering comforting nothings into his ear. After about thirty minutes Hotch finally seemed to calm down, having the thunder stop over ten minutes ago. He felt himself start coming back to his senses, and he hated it. For the first time in over a year he felt nothing but comfort, and he didn't ever want it to end.

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