Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds.

Summary: After getting shot, Hotch is confined to a hospital bed. Reid and Garcia try to help with the boredom. Key word: try. HotchReidGarcia friendship, hints of HotchReid if you squint, oneshot

Here's something else for the CM fandom. I just got struck with this little idea, and decided to write it. I haven't written for Hotch yet, but I hope I can get him characterized alright, besides thsi fic isn't really meant to be taken too seriously. It's just for good fun. Lol. Anyway, this is for fun, so it's not meant to be taken too seriously (despite the fact that Hotch gets shot in this fic.) Anyway, enough of my rambling, I hope y'all enjoy!

Bedside Manner

Aaron Hotchner hated hospitals.

Well, that was putting it lightly. If he were to be quite blunt about it, he would say he despised hospitals to the deepest, blackest pits of Hell, but that was being too dramatic. And Hotch never really had a flair for the dramatic - that was Garcia's job.

The dark haired man felt his mouth quirk into a smile at the thought of the blonde haired tech guru's name. He missed her flighty ways, but she did drop in every day on her way home. She even brought him a teddy bear that he kept on his bedside table.

Hotch groaned lightly as he turned ever-so slightly in his bed. He couldn't roll over - no, that would aggravate the wound, the doctors told him.

He looked down at his leg that was propped up on a towering amount of pillows and encased in a cast, which everyone at the BAU had so gleefully decided to sign.

It was stupid, really, how he got this injury.

A stray bullet, breaking the bone in his leg. Now, said leg was in a cast, and he wasn't even able to hobble his way around on crutches to get back to work. He had briefly considered hijacking a wheelchair and getting the hell out of here, but a nurse came by just as he fell onto the floor like a graceless blob.

He couldn't even get back in the bed without having the petite blonde helping him. And, oh, he knew she made sure to touch his ass. It made him feel pathetic and needy, and violated, above all things.

Hotch sighed as he adjusted his position lightly, looking up at the blank television. The only thing he wanted right now was to be able to turn that blasted thing on and watch something. He never really had enough time to himself, to watch whatever trash television he could, and now he found himself desperately wanting the noise in the background, instead of having to hear the clinking of nurses heels and soft voices.

The remote had been knocked onto the floor in his escape attempt, destroying that dream.

He was just in the process of twisting himself to bend over the side of his bed to get the remote, when the door banged open clumsily.

He jolted, startled, and almost fell out of the bed in the process. His leg moved just the slightest bit, and he clenched his teeth at the slight stinging of pain that accompanied it. He would have to tell the nurse to bring his painkillers, because the ones he'd taken before were starting to wear off.

"Er…Hotch?"

He maneuvered himself to lean back against the pillows again, the remote still on the floor somewhere. Hotch thought he'd seen the glistening black of it underneath the bed…

Damn it.

Hotch looked over to see the Reid standing in the door, a quizzical look on his young face.

"Hey, Reid," Hotch ventured, motioning with one hand for him to come in.

Reid looked slightly skittish as he fully entered the room, fiddling with the strap of his messenger bag. "I just thought I would visit you…I really haven't come a lot…"

Hotch nodded in understanding. He was one of the few who knew that the genius actually hated hospitals, so it was a wonder that he was even standing here in the first place. "You can sit down."

Reid cocked his head to the side, looking almost like a small puppy, but moved to the chair just across from Hotch's bed. Sitting down, he looked rather awkward, and looked at Hotch before a smile spread across his features, "What were you doing when I came in here?"

Hotch didn't speak for a moment, but then sighed, "I…couldn't find the remote."

The smile curved upward even more, and for a second, Reid looked absolutely Cheshire-like, "It's under the bed."

Hotch groaned and stretched slightly in the bed before rolling slightly to grope around the floor for the remote.

Suddenly, a pair of neat shoes were in his line of vision, and a slender hand was pressing on his shoulders, pushing him back up onto the bed. "I'll get it."

Hotch leaned back into the pillows that were propped up for him while Reid rifled around for the remote. Finally, after a while, the leader of the BAU heard a muffled sound of exaltation, and the scraggly haired profiler stuck his head up on the side of the bed, eye-level with one of Hotch's arms.

Reid offered Hotch the remote with a smile, "Here."

Hotch took the remote from his skinny fingers and gave him one of those rare smiles, "Thank you."

He flipped the television on, but found himself not paying much attention to the random guy that was talking.

But, apparently, Reid was. Of course, he paid attention to everything.

"Did you know before his career as a daytime talk show host Jerry Springer was actually a politician who got caught soliciting a prostitute?"

Hotch barely had time to answer before Reid went into the whole story, details and all.

"…which makes it quite ironic that he became the host of a show which is all about sex and promiscuity - "

"Reid."

"Oh, yes…sorry…" Reid looked down at his feet for a moment, his face slightly embarrassed. "Rambling…"

A ghost of a smile crossed Hotch's face as he leans back further into the pillows. "It's fine."

The slightly sheepish look that was on Reid's face turned quizzical, but before he could say anything, Hotch closed his eyes and said, "I actually missed that."

Reid's heart skipped lightly, foolishly, at that, and he only gave him a small smile in return, "Yeah, well…the BAU isn't the same without you scowling, so you need to get well soon."

"A joke?" Hotch noted, fighting the chuckle that rippled through his chest, but becoming unsuccessful.

"I try." Reid leaned back slightly and took his messenger bag off his shoulders, leaning it against the foot of the chair.

"Did you come by yourself?" Hotch asked, looking at him with a slightly curious gaze. The pain in his leg was now flaring up even more than before, without provocation, but he didn't want to take his meds just yet. They made him drowsy, and he usually fell asleep soon after, but now he didn't want that for some reason.

"Garcia drove me." Reid said, somewhat embarrassedly. "She's getting a candy bar from the vending machine now."

Hotch nodded, not wanting to comment on the fact that every driver on the road was probably grateful he wasn't behind the wheel. Nonetheless, a small smile, slightly unnoticeable, creeped its way onto his lips. "Do I get one?"

"Er…" Reid said, looking at the rather strange way Hotch's features were configured on his face, "I didn't know you liked chocolate."

"Everyone likes chocolate, Reid."

Reid snickered at that. Who knew? Who knew that the stoic leader of the BAU would actually like chocolate? He knew that it was pretty much a statistical fact that the majority of the population enjoyed chocolate, but somehow it seemed quite weird to him that Hotch would like the sweet treat.

"Did you know that chocolate is actually - "

"Hey, Boss Man, is the genius bothering you too much?" Garcia said loudly as she walked into the room, several candy bars bundled in her arms and her outfit as loud as usual. She grinned at the bedridden Hotch.

"No, you saved me."

Reid looked like a puppy that had gotten kicked, but Hotch looked over at him and gave him a light smile that he wouldn't have seen had he not looked.

Garcia's bright smile was focused over at Hotch, who was laying in the bed, and she tossed a candy bar over to him. He caught it - apparently his arms weren't injured at all - and cast her on of his barely there smiles, which she beamed at.

"Thanks." Hotch mumbled slightly.

"Butterfinger." Garcia commented on the candy bar that was quickly being unwrapped by Hotch as if he were starving. "Those are your favorite, right?"

Hotch didn't answer, but his decisive bite into the smooth chocolate was enough of an answer for anyone.

Reid made sure to remember this for future reference.

It was silent except for the sounds of munching and the bickering of the couple on the television set.

"Ooh, Jerry Springer." Garcia cooed as she saw the trash television displayed on the screen. "Now, I wouldn't have taken you for the kind of guy that watches this kind of TV, but hey, you learn something new every day."

"I don't."

Garcia looked over to Hotch, "Then why…"

"I didn't bother to change the channel when I turned it on."

"And don't change it just yet. Maury is on after this."

Hotch just stared at her. Reid looked as if he was going to talk about the certain aspects of the Maury show, but decided better of it because Garcia looked completely content, as well as Hotch, which was weird since it was a known fact that he hated hospitals.

But somehow, Hotch looked - and felt - content, despite his current situation.

With Garcia chuckling at the beginning of Maury and Reid looking on in rapt fascination, Hotch felt more at peace than he had in a long while.

Suddenly, his hatred of hospitals decreased just slightly.

In the middle of his reverie, the door to his room opened, and a nurse peeked her head in, "Mr. Hotcher, I'm here to take a blood sample."

Scratch that.

End.

And here this is! It didn't really come out in the way that I had planned, but I enjoyed writing it nonetheless. I really like writing friendship pieces like this, and I hope that everyone liked reading this. Haha. I would love to hear your opinions on this, because, well, who doesn't like getting reviews? Haha.

Anyway, thanks for reading!