Lizard: 'mkay, this is my first CM fanfic, but I couldn't resist the sudden attack of inspiration. I love Hotch, and think there should be more stories with him that don't include romance. Just gets a little old. Thus, there is no pairing in this story. Just friendship. I may expand on this story, if anyone likes it, but no promises.

Hotch groaned in pain as he was dragged once again to his feet by his captor. The man, Fredrick Scottson, glared at him with the insane gleam of a killer in his eyes. Hotch had given up on being found in time. He just hoped Fredrick was caught before anyone else was hurt. Blood dripped from multiple lacerations on his face, and he was pretty sure his nose was broken. Without looking he could almost count the bruises on his body, and the fingers in his right hand were certainly not supposed to be that size or color.

Fredrick licked his lips and leaned in closer to his hostage, the smell of alchol nearly knocked Aaron out, and brought on a surge of long buried memories, "It's time."

"For what?" Hotch whispered weakly.

The killer smiled, "Your baptism."

Hotch closed his eyes and tried to prepare himself for what he now knew was coming. The murder victims had all been drowned, but no one knew how or for what reason. It was religious. Of course, a man on a mission.

Before he knew it he was being dragged down one of the many poorly lit corridors in the old underground complex. An old research facility, Hotch assumed, that had been turned into Fredrick's "secret lair" as it were. They came to an area Aaron hadn't seen before and he was shoved into a cement room with a table bolted to the floor, complete with restraints. The killer grabbed him from behind and practically threw him onto the table. He didn't resist as he was strapped to the table, and he barely blinked as Fredrick leaned over him with a phsycotic grin on his face.

"Tight?" the man snickered headed out of the room.

Hotch closed his eyes as the sound of the heavy metal door being shut and sealed echoed through the room. In some distant part of his brain he wondered why the door was so heavy and well locked, it wasn't like he was going anywhere. That was when the water started. Aaron's eyes snapped open and he turned frantically to the side to see water pouring out of a pipe in the corner. Turning his head in the other direction he saw Fredrick, behind a window, with that same sadistic the instant that Hotch's terrified eyes met Fredrick's insane ones, the man waved, and that was it for Hotch.

He yanked desperately at the restraints, trying for all he was worth to get out. He thought he could accept dying, but like this?! His back arched off the table as he frantically tried to loosen the restraints. The leather clasps, however, wouldn't give an inch. With a cry of frustration, Hotch continued fighting for his life.

"Clear!" Morgan shouted from the head of the SWAT team.

He looked helplessly around the room, Rossi right behind him, tension flowing off every move they made. Finding the unsub once they knew his name had been surprisingly easy, but Fredrick was intelligent andphsycotic, a deadly mixture.

"C'mon, Hotch, where are you?" Morgan muttered under his breath as room after room turned up empty.

The water was lapping at the bottom of the bottom of the tabletop now, and tears of desperation stung the corners of Hotch's eyes. His wrists were bleeding now and Fredrick had left looking as though he had heard something. Not that Aaron cared, all he wanted was out. At the first touch of water on his back, Hotch yanked with a new passion at the restraints. When he was once again met with no success, he arched his back and pulled as hard as he could a choked sob of hopelessness escaping his lips.

He took one last breath of air as the water slipped over his head.

The first shot was a warning, the bullet hitting the floor inches from Morgan's shoe. Everyone dove for cover, but all Rossi could think was there wasn't time for this, even though he didn't know why. Fredrick fired another shot, this one actually aimed, though it still missed.

"Fredrick! We know you're there. If you surrender yourself now the charges will be lighter," Rossi started, while motioning for Morgan and a couple SWAT members to go around behind.

"Begone, armies of Satan!! I am doing God's work!!" The angry voice called from behind one of the racks in the room.

Dave noticed Reid's ever so slight change of expression, and assumed the tone was familiar to the young profiler. His eyes turned to the items on the rack he was using for shelter and his stomach turned as he recognized the labels as different acids and flamable chemicals. What could this man have done to Hotch? His mind wandered back to the pictures of the other victims, all some kind of law enforcement workers, and the obvious signs of torture they bore.

He shook his head and returned to his attempts at negotiation. He was getting no where when another shot fired, followed by the sound of struggle.

"We got 'em!" Morgan called.

Dave, Reid and Emily rushed over to where Fredrick was being dragged to his feet by two SWAT members. The man growled menacingly and gave a couple rebellious tugs, but otherwise did nothing.

Dave narrowed his eyes, "Looks like we win," he mocked in reference to the taunting notes Fredrick always left behind.

Fredrick snickered, and looked up to meet the older profiler's gaze, "Where's your friend?"

Dave stiffened and looked over at Morgan. The other man nodded and in an instant the duo was charging down the hall Fredrick had come from, Rossi calling back to Emily and Reid to take over. Running down the hall, Dave was suddenly aware of the sound of water running, and he skidded to a stop next to two doors, one heavily shut and apparently sealed. Pulling out his gun, he cautiously led the way into the room. It was empty, and Morgan cursed as he kicked at the only piece of furniture in the room, a lone chair. Dave sighed and ran a hand through his hair, turning slowly. As he lifted his head, the sight before him made him freeze and his blood run cold.

"Hotch...."

"What?" Derek turned around in confusion, until he saw what the older profiler was staring in horror at.

Hotch's motionless form was strapped to a metal table in the middle of a small room. A small room almost completely filled with water. Rossi snapped out of it first and bolted out the door and to the sealed one next to it. Frantically he stared at the control box next to it. He struggled to focus on the words, and pressed the one that said "close." To his limited relief the sound of water stopped.

Morgan grabbed the doors wheel mechanism that sealed it shut.* and tugged as hard as he could. Water started seeping around the edges and Rossi reached to grab onto something just as the door swung open and a flood of water poured out. As soon as he could stand upright without the help of his handhold, Dave was inside the room, Derek right beside him.

Rossi muttered a curse under his breath as he established Hotch was not breathing. Swinging onto the table, he straddled his boss and started CPR as Morgan pulled out a pocket knife and attacked the restraints.

"Breath, breath, breath...," the words became a mantra for Dave.

The younger man glanced up constantly, worry evident on his was a crack as a rib snapped under the pressure. Rossi didn't stop. Morgan finished with the restraints and watched the older profiler continue on. How long had it been? It felt like hours. Rossi still didn't stop.

"Breath, Hotch, breath!" He nearly begged.

"Rossi...it's not...he's gone," Morgan murmured weakly.

"Not yet," Dave grunted.

He kept going. Just as Morgan was about to drag the man off, there was a cough. Rossi stopped and leapt off, rolling Aaron onto his side as he started choking. Derek could have cried with relief as he watched his boss cough up several mouthfulls of water and collapse back against the table, breathing heavily.

"That's it Hotch, we got you...just breath," Rossi sighed in relief.

"Th-thank you...," Hotch rasped so quietly it was scarcely a breath.

"No problem, Hotch. We got your back," Derek said shakily as he squeezed his bosses shoulder.

Rossi ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes for a moment, "Just keep breathing Hotch, keep breathing...."

Lizard: Hm...I've done worse. So let me know what you think, I love to hear from you!!

*I have no idea what this is called. It's the thing you see on vaults or the hatch in a submarine....

LIZARD OUT