Five times Hotch should have intervened…And one time Spencer did.

Senseless

Some things felt senseless, and other things actually were senseless. The difference, Spencer Reid had conquered, was how the two things were displayed. Staring at the back of Aaron Hotchner's head only seemed senseless, or at least that was what Spencer was trying to convince himself. It had a purpose, although it may not be very apparent to the average on-looker, and he was positive that his purpose would eventually be fulfilled. Finally, proving Reid's logic to still be in-tact, Hotch turned around in his seat.

And Spencer immediately looked away, thus making his logic invalid.

"Reid, what is it?"

'Damn, back to valid,' Spencer thought. Keeping his gaze steady on the book that hadn't even been opened a minutes before, he pretended to pick up from where he had last left off and ignore the fact that he had in fact heard his boss.

"Reid, look at me." This time Reid was forced to look up, as the voice was both clear and more close than before. His eyes peered up and away from his book, and he was almost shocked to see Hotch now sitting opposite of him in the jet. His eyes couldn't find the words of the book, and they decided that it was senseless to pretend to read any longer. As he sighed his hands let the book slide out and onto the ground of the jet. Hotch picked it up with a frown and placed it snug underneath Reid's hand, but the younger man droppeed it back on the ground. "Reid, what is it?" he asked again.

"I…" But that was as far as he got. Faking a smile he shook his head. "Nothing Hotch, it's nothing."

"It's obviously not nothing," Hotch counter-acted.

"We're about to land," Reid mumbled as he stood up. As the plane's doors opened, Reid slung his messenger bag over his shoulder and walked off the plane, and as Hotch too did so, he made a mental note to talk to Reid later.

~* The Second Time *~

Later came and later went, but Hotch still hadn't talked to Reid. Two months after Reid had thrown the book on the Hotch found himself watching JJ leave the BAU for the last time. He quietly observed the affect it had on the team- not that you needed to be a profiler to conclude that they had reacted 'with grief and sadness.' Standing from his office window he watched as the young mother entered her car and drove off. Then, with a sigh, he threw on his coat and walked out of the office.

"Going home on time?" Rossi would have smirked any other day, but this wasn't any other day.

"No, Jack is going at his friend's house for the night." He shut off his light and grabbed his suitcase before shutting the door. "I'm going to the bar on time."

"I second that," Morgan nodded as he came up beside the two older profilers.

"Let's call it a group outing," Prentiss muttered. "I'll get Garcia."

"I'll get Pretty Boy," Morgan sighed.

"No, let me get him," Hotch shook his head. "Face it, he's afraid to say 'no' to me."

"Good thinking," Rossi grumbled. Hotch was just about to leave to retrieve his youngest agent when the familiar voice came from behind him.

"Not necessary," Reid mumbled. "I'm going with or without you guys."

"Well, welcome aboard, kid," Morgan smirked.

"Yeah, thanks."

Hotch sighed as he listened to the two profilers banter humorlessly back and forth. Reid obviously had his shield up, so 'later' would have to wait one more night.

~* The Third Time *~

Two weeks and three days after JJ left, the team went to sunny Miami for their latest case. Hotch's concern for Reid had grown exponentially due to the apparent breakdown of Reid's health. An idiot could tell you Reid was faking not having headaches, and a profiler could tell you that he was only hiding it because he was afraid of what the headaches really meant.

After the case was over and everyone had gone home Hotch had thought about paying Reid a surprise visit. And he was going to, really- until he got to his car and his cell phone started ringing.

"Aaron, Jack's got the cold," Jessica reported to the father. "He wants to see you..."

"Alright," he nodded, "I'm on my way."

~* The Fourth Time *~

The headaches were getting worse, and they were now starting to affect Reid's work. 'Seems like 'later' finally came,' Hotch mused to himself. The experienced profiler looked down at the bullpen to make sure Reid was still there before prancing down the stairs to retrieve him. When he reached his desk, though, he was completely asleep. He was about to tap the younger man's shoulder when something stopped him. Hotch knew that sleep was one of the only places where Reid could totally ignore the headaches, and he wasn't sure if he was willing to ruin that for the younger man.

"Let him sleep," a gentle voice whispered from behind him. Hotch turned around to see Garcia smiling sadly as him. "He's had a rough week," she added.

"Yeah," Hotch sighed, "we all have." Then, nodding dismissively, Hotch made his way back to his office.

Apparently it just wasn't time to talk yet.

~* The Fifth Time *~

Emily Prentiss was missing. The thought alone was enough to scare the hell out of him, so he could only imagine how the rest of his team felt. Hotch motioned for his team- and Seaver- to follow him to the conference room. They had to go straight to work if they were going to find her alive…

"Lauren," Reid suddenly said. "Lauren Reynolds!"

"Her alias," Rossi nodded. "It fits InTel's code. I think Reid's right."

"Well, I know Boy-Genius is right," Garcia grinned. Then, without further instruction she went to work on her 'babies'.

Two hours later Reid found himself staring down the coffee pot with too much focus. Fortunately, Hotch happened to be out of coffee as well. The older agent had been looking for an excuse to talk to his youngest agent, and now seemed to be the perfect time.

"Spencer." The use of his first name caught Reid off-guard, and he immediately gave Hotch his attention. Studying Reid's eyes Hotch could tell that his agent hadn't been sleeping very well and that his stress levels were abnormally high. "Are you okay?"

Reid's mask faltered for just a moment, but then he shook his head. He was tired of hiding, and if he was being honest he really did need to tell someone. Hesitantly he placed his coffee mug down and opened his mouth to speak. "Actually, I've-"

"Hey guys," Seaver smiled as she entered the room, seemingly oblivious to the tension in the room. "Any coffee left?"

"Seaver, not now," Hotch glared, but it was already too late. Reid had closed up on him again.

"Yeah, there's plenty to go around," Reid spat. He slammed his coffee mug down and stormed out of the room. It was only then did Seaver frown in the realization that she had just interrupted their conversation. Then, as if she hadn't made a bad impression already, she asked, "Is everything okay? Did I just-"

"No," Hotch cut-in sarcastically. "Everything's fucking fantastic." He knew he was being harsh, but Seaver needed harshness. If she was going to grow to be one of their own, she'd have to be able to deal with shitty attitudes when she made a mistake. With his mission demolished, Hotch too left the coffee room.

~* And One Time Spencer Intervened*~

The funeral had been thrown together at the last minute, but despite flaws in the planning system it was a beautiful funeral. No- not beautiful. Funerals weren't supposed to be pretty or elegant like a party or get-together; they were supposed to be sad and depressing. At least he hadn't screwed up that much.

"Hotch." The voice had been so soft that Hotch wasn't even sure if he had heard it or thought it. "Hotch." The second time around the voice had grown a bit more confident, and he was sure that it was in fact heard and not imagined. To his surprise he turned around to see a shaky Reid waiting for his attention. "I…I've been avoiding you, in case you haven't noticed," he finally admitted. The younger man wiped a tear from his eye as he waited for Hotch to say something. Soon enough it became evident that he wasn't going to, so he just nodded his head. "Alright, I'll start," he sighed.

"Not here, Reid, and definitely not now," Hotch shook his head. "Tonight is Prentiss' night. Whether she wants us to or not we're dedicating it to her."

Reid raised his eyebrows, suddenly confused. "You just said 'wants', not wanted…" he said carefully. "Hotch, is there-"

"It was a mistake," Hotch easily lied. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Reid mumbled. "I still find it hard to believe. I mean, just last week she was saving me from one of Morgan's…." He couldn't finish the sentence, though. Hotch watched as his youngest agent tried to regain control of himself, but as he kept wiping tears his self-control was sprawling. Hotch placed a supportive hand on the younger man's shoulder.

But it wasn't enough for Reid. The younger man broke down in sobs and threw himself against Hotch. Instinctively Hotch wrapped his arms around him and guided him to a near-by bench. The rest of the team watched with sadness. Reid had been doing what they all wanted to since they had arrived at the funeral, but now they had to be strong. Reid needed them to be that, and if they couldn't for Reid, they would try to for Prentiss. She would've wanted them to help Reid, and it really was the least they owed her.

"I think it's time to go," JJ sighed sadly. She patted Hotch's back before she walked away from the group. She could only keep up the act for so long, especially when her baby brother was breaking down because of the lie. "Jaje, wait!" Garcia took off after the blond with a frown on her face. Morgan and Rossi just stayed where they were. Quietly the two men offered their comfort to Reid as they respectfully looked away. Both agents know that Reid hated showing weakness, and he had enough stress as it was.

"Why don't I take you to my place?" Hotch asked softly, his hands stroking up and down Reid's hair. He could feel the younger man nod into his chest, and that was enough consent for him. He swiftly picked up his agent and carried him bridal-style to the car. Thankfully, Morgan was standing nearby and was able to open the door for them. When Hotch was about to let go of Reid, though, the younger man clung on to him closer and almost started hyperventalating. Sighing the older profiler jumped in the back seat and threw the keys at Morgan. "You're driving," he quietly informed. Morgan needed no other instruction and jogged up to the driver's side.

Hotch couldn't recall feeling as guilty as he had than at the precise moment in time. He was causing someone he cared about deeeply unspeakable pain because of a damned secret, a damned case. Emily Prentiss was in fact alive, but the team could never know that- not yet, anyways. So as they drove off from the fake funeral he held his head high and finally let a tear or two fall. Some things, after all, only seemed senseless.

And so many few of them actually were just senseless.