A/N: It's official – I'm addicted. Or no, smitten, ridiculously smitten with 'CM'. (rolls eyes at oneself) And when I get addicted, it means fics keep pouring in. (grins sheepishly) So bear with me, yeah?

Ah, first off…

WARNINGS: Language, blood, violence… General oddness. You know, such fun stuff. (smirks coyly)

DISCLAIMER: The day I owe something of 'CM' (including Dr. Spencer Reid) (pouts) cows and pigs fly holding hands. Period.

Awkay… I've gotta get this story shipped out before I change my mind about posting this. (takes a deep breath) I really, REALLY hope you'll enjoy the ride!

RANDOM FACT: Did you guys know that right now it's the year of the tiger in Chinese calendar? (grins) Cool!

Year of the Tiger

CHAPTER 1 – Autumn

One of those about a million little things his team didn't know about Dr. Spencer Reid was that autumn was his favorite time of the year. He didn't know exactly why, though.

Or no. If he was perfectly honest with himself he did know, had a clue at least.

Even as he lay on the cold ground amongst slowly falling, colorful leaves – in pain and pressing a bloodied hand against the gaping hole that'd appeared to his abdomen – Reid managed to get lost into his favorite memory.

As with many psychiatric patients, summer had often been the hardest time of the year for his mother. That's why autumn always offered a much needed relief when he was a child. One September, when he was five-years-old, his mother woke him up at five in the morning with a bright smile on her face. Reid had never seen her as happy as she was then, as at peace with herself. "Do you want to see the Wonderland, honey?" she asked him. After his surprised nod she took him into her arms and carried him outside to the backyard of their house. Despite his exceptional IQ Reid was still just a child. And that's why he gasped, then smiled widely at the sight. His mother had always hated how seasons didn't really change in Nevada. This autumn, apparently, she'd decided to do something about it. In the quiet hours of the night she'd drawn and colored what looked like hundreds of paper-leaves, then scattered them everywhere around the backyard. They looked beautiful, and nothing short of real. To a five-year-old – even a genius one – the sight was nothing short of a Wonderland.

Usually Reid would've been worried about what this all said about his mother's mental health, if this meant that her condition was deteriorating once more. But for just that one morning he decided to allow himself to be a kid.

As a breeze of wind caught a hold on the paper-leaves, making them twirl around in untraceable patterns, the mother and son watched with smiles on their faces. Not a word needed to be said.

Reid sighed as the memory ended, slipped from his grasp.

It would've been nice, to linger in that world a little bit longer…

It was around then Reid began to realize that he was exhausted. His eyelids drooped heavily, and he would've without a doubt fallen asleep if a rough hand hadn't grabbed his shoulder. "Reid!" It took a while before the nearly bellowing voice registered to him as Aaron Hotchner's. The dark-haired man's voice didn't sound quite right. "Reid! Wake up and open your eyes."

That piece of information surprised Reid. He didn't remember closing his eyes. Breathing heavily at the effort he fought and managed to coax his eyes halfway open. At first the dark blob hovering above him was blurry, but gradually Hotch's face cleared out. Although he was barely coherent it startled Reid a little to see the terror hiding in the other man's eyes. Hotch was never scared. It looked like the damage was as bad as he'd grimly assumed.

Reid opened his mouth, tried to tell Hotch that it was okay – that he wasn't in pain, just a little bit chilly because of the cool autumn weather. But all that came out was something raspy he barely recognized as something a human being could produce.

God, how badly he would've wanted to sleep…!

Aaron Hotchner had sometimes been described as a man who never showed any emotions, least of all felt something as human as terror. But that rather late evening his heart raced madly as he sat beside Reid, much too aware of the fact that his hands trembled as he held them against the wound that'd appeared to the young genius' stomach.

Reid mewed in pain and squeezed his eyes tightly shut as Hotch applied pressure. Hotch grit teeth, fighting with his all to regain his usual cool composure. "Reid, I know it hurts but you need to keep your eyes open, do you hear me? You'll be okay, but you have to fight the pain."

With visible struggle Reid obeyed his command, forcing his eyes to open a little bit. Hotch felt his chest twist painfully when seeing unshed tears in the younger man's eyes.

Over his career Hotch had seen many – all too many – people injured, tortured and dead. But the more sickeningly warm blood flowed through his fingers the harder it was for him to ignore that the person below him wasn't just someone. This was Spencer Reid, the young genius and walking encyclopedia who'd somehow managed to become nothing short of a family member to him. The youngest member of their team he'd sworn to himself he'd protect. The same Reid who'd been through far too much to just…!

Feeling a unexpected bout of rage Hotch looked around, his blood lighting up to a boiling as he saw no one.

Where the hell was the ambulance? Hadn't he dialed 911 ages ago?

"It's… It's okay. I'm not gonna die." Reid's voice was quiet and shaky, but nonetheless fiercely determined. However the fear and tears in the young genius' eyes ate away some of those words' credibility. "I'm… I'm not gonna die. Right?" The frail voice almost died out with the few last words, and Hotch had to strain his hearing to catch them.

It took more than Hotch could've ever imagined to keep his expression straight, to hide what was steadily swelling in the pit of his stomach. For a moment he wished he would've been able to take one of his hands away from Reid's wound so he could've… "No", he murmured in a voice that was nothing like his. His heart was still pounding madly, making blood rush loudly in his ears. "You're not going to die. So keep your eyes open and stay with me. I'm not letting you die."

Suddenly Reid relaxed completely, the once stiff muscles relaxing. Hotch was almost sure some color disappeared from his face as he noticed that the blood was seeping through his fingers even faster now. There was no fear in the brunet's eyes anymore. " 'sorry", came out in a silent breath. And then Reid's eyes closed.

At that very moment Hotch's raging heart stilled, and he might've even shouted. If he did his voice got lost into the sounds of sirens as ambulance finally showed up. Soon enough two paramedics were rushing towards them.

Everything seemed to happen unnaturally fast. The medics pushed Hotch out of the way and started working on Reid, barking out medical phrases that didn't make any sense to the team leader. Now that he was standing further Hotch could see far too clearly how colorless Reid's skin was, how much blood had pooled all around the young genius. As adrenaline left Hotch's system his legs went weak and he leaned quite ungracefully against a nearby tree. His slightly widened eyes were fixed firmly on Reid's chest as the medics kept working.

In, out, in, out… Reid was breathing – struggling, but still. Seeing that was almost ridiculously comforting.

Hotch blinked once when realizing that the medics were moving, carrying Reid on a stretcher between them. He already moved to follow but one of the medics, a young bald man, shook his head with an apologetic expression. "I'm sorry, but you'd be in the way."

Hotch swallowed laboriously and blinked, struggling to think straight. "Where are you taking him?" His voice was gruff and professional, hollow.

"To General. You can follow us there."

Hotch nodded, the whole situation becoming surreal to him. Just before the doors of the ambulance were closed his gaze strayed to Reid's oxygen mask-covered face once more. In some other situation he might've wondered why it looked like the barely conscious genius seemed to be smiling a little while watching the falling leaves all around them with dim eyes.

And then the ambulance was gone, leaving Hotch standing there with leaves and dust twirling around him.

At that moment Aaron Hotchner came to a vague yet firm conclusion that he'd always hated autumn.

TBC, OR NOT?

A/N: Sooo… (swallows extremely nervously) The first chapter is always the most nerve wrecking and I never manage to think objectively about them, so you tell me.

Do you guys think this story deserves to continue for three more chapters, or should I tear this down right away and pretend this never existed? PLEASE, leave a review and let me know! It'd mean to me more than you could ever imagine!

(On a random side note… I feel like owe Reid an apology. This is the second story in which I'm putting the poor guy through hard time!) (hugs)

Thank you so much for reading this! Who knows, maybe I'll see ya again around soon enough. (gives hopefull glances)

Take care!