This was a nightmare. Hotch put his head in his hands and tried to quell the anxiety rising in his stomach and the pain throbbing behind his right temple. He felt tears of frustration and fear prickle in his eyes, but he cinched his eyes shut and refused to let them slip out. He was the team's backbone. He couldn't let them see him cracking, especially not now.

Agents had been in danger before. They worked for the FBI, catching the most dangerous criminals in the country; it came with the territory. But Hotch had never been so emotionally shredded by sending an agent into a dangerous situation before. Granted, he wasn't as cold and calculating as Gideon when it came to such matters, but he was usually able to suppress his worry and have faith that his team will return.

This time, it was different. His entire body quivered and fought with this idea. Better just to use snipers to take out the unsub- they might lose an innocent but this was madness- it was simply better to just use snipers.

With a strong mental push, he forced his objective, rational side to take over, the side that earned him his reputation of being capable of making the most difficult decisions with ease. His quick mind raced through the possibilities and statistics of agents in hostage situations, but his thoughts were interrupted by a dull ache in his jaw. Hotch realized, with a start, that he'd been grinding his teeth together, as if he were attempting to punish himself for even entertaining the idea that he would put this particular agent in harm's way.

Hotch turned towards the team, who were all looking at each other expectantly. Gideon's dark eyes were cast to the ground, shifting left and right as he sifted through the options available with his usual efficiency. JJ's eyebrows were drawn together, creating deep crevices in her forehead, and the pain and indecision on her face was mirrored by every other member. If he knew Garcia, she was probably a nervous wreck at her computer desk. Every other member showed some kind of indecision- except for Reid.

The young doctor's face was furrowed with determination, and his sparkling light brown eyes dared everyone to let him take this chance. Hotch could tell that he desperately wanted to prove to the team that he wasn't just a pretty face- oh, it was such a pretty face- but an FBI agent that could withstand danger. He knew that Reid's talent with sleight of hand was unparalleled, and that he was probably the only one who could pull off making the unsub believe that there had really been a tracking chip in his arm.

But why did it have to be him? Hotch didn't like to see any of his agents in the line of fire, but Morgan, Elle, even Gideon had proven that they were capable of such feats. Reid wasn't even authorized to carry more than a pistol on a good day. Hotch wished that his worry were based simply on his concern for Reid as his boss, but he knew that it was more than that.

It'd taken him over a year to come to terms with his feelings for Reid, but he couldn't keep telling himself that he simply admired Reid's intelligence, or the way his hair smelled like jasmine when he rushed into work fresh out of the shower, or the slight cling of his corduroy pants to his slim hips that tick-tocked as he made his way to his desk-

Hotch buried his face in his hands again. Thoughts of the younger man clung to his conscious like a shimmering curtain, shrouding his judgment with improper feelings. He had to focus; he had to make a decision for the team. What about Reid made him reluctant to put him in danger's path? It was something in his huge, vulnerable eyes, his delicate hands. But he should know better than that; Reid was strong. He'd faced so many hardships in his life: his father leaving, his mother's insanity, his impossible decision to have her put in a facility for her own good. Suddenly, he knew that he had to take this chance. He had to trust in Reid.

Hotch was aware of curious eyes staring at him as the team witnessed the most emotionally fragile Hotch had ever been in public. Taking a deep breath, he looked at JJ, who looked as troubled as he felt, and steadfastly avoided eye contact with Reid, who stared at him hard.

"He should do it." Hotch had to strain to keep his voice from cracking. "It's our only shot to make it out of this without casualties."

Reid had a curious reaction, looking both pleased and, though it pained Hotch to observe it, frightened. The rest of the team readily agreed, coming around to Hotch's infallible logic. He could only hope that he was making the right decision. The rest of the team carefully masked their own worry, but perhaps not carefully enough.

"Could you do me a favor?" Reid asked, and Hotch noticed with a pang of anguish that the young man's voice shook slightly. He locked his entrancing caramel eyes onto Hotch's bottomless brown ones, and the question was suddenly directed only to him.

"Anything." Hotch longed to reach out and gather Reid into his arms, fold his slender body to his chest and promise him that he would never let anything happen. He wanted to stroke Reid's hair, kiss his smooth forehead, and caress away the stress of the past few hours. He never imagined that he would willingly let Reid put himself in the way of danger.

"Could at least one of you look like you're going to see me again?" Hotch's heart, which had been so very carefully protected ever since Haley insinuated that she was unhappy with their marriage and wanted a divorce, cracked and splintered at Reid's pain. At the same time he smiled involuntarily, as some primal part of him knew that Reid would pull through, if not for Hotch, then for the team, for his own life and the lives of the innocents onboard. Hotch had never had such perfect faith in anybody, and certainly not recently.

"See you when you get back," he said with an air of finality, and Reid smiled.