A/N This is a sequel to STOP MOTION but it can stand alone too. Please review – I'm trying something different....

MAE FLOWER
Chapter 1
The Meeting

"The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed." – Carl Jung

It had been a difficult few months for Hotch. He had been fitted with a prosthetic half hand but he was clumsy with it, and couldn't get used to it. Hotch was not a man to give up, but he was frustrated that he couldn't learn to use it more quickly.

The little finger of his left hand itched mercilessly and was almost driving him insane. He sat at home trying to take his mind off it but usually ended up pulling the prosthetic off and biting at the stump. He had been in trouble with the surgeon for making it bleed, but it was the only thing that worked. The pain of the biting overshadowing the itching.

There were other pains too. When he exerted himself too much the deep cut in his chest hurt like hell. He tried to look at it this way; it could have been a lot bigger! But that and the problems he now had with his sinuses, he wondered if he would ever be well enough for work.

And he still had a limp.

A sorry excuse for a man he thought as he noticed his hunched reflection in the glass door on the way into the firing range. He was determined to get his average up to and beyond what it had been before Lomax broke his arm. At least that way he would be ready for work when the time came.

He smacked his hand deliberately against the wall as he limped to the firing range position one. He was meeting Reid here today – his twice yearly firearms test was due and as always Hotch was coaching him. Not that he needed it so much any more. His average was at least as good as the rest of the team. Except Dave of course.

'Hey! Hotch!' Reid called out as soon as he saw him. He tried not to notice that his left hand was bleeding. Hotch probably didn't even know.

'Hey!' responded Hotch with a small smile. He always enjoyed his time with Reid. He knew well of Reid's feelings for him, and although he couldn't return them in the same way, Reid was becoming a very close friend – a special friend.

He thought back to the early days of working with him at the BAU, his nervous movements and insecurities. But he had gained confidence and skill as a profiler, and Hotch was glad he was on the team.

Not his team, not at the moment – Dave was acting Unit Chief – But if things worked out well next week at the assessment board, who knows – it could be his team again at last!

Hotch picked up the ear protectors with his left hand and carefully tried to put them on. His slowness of movement was not lost on Reid, who was concerned for his Boss. Physio had said he had to use his left hand as much as possible. But it was so hard........ He gave up and used his right hand.

Hotch noticed the blood and chose to ignore it. So Reid did too.

The two friends set up their targets and practiced for about an hour. Reid was having an off day, and snatched off his eye shield in frustration.

'I've had enough.' he said. 'Fancy a coffee?'

'Yes', Hotch said. 'but not here. Let's go to the diner.'

They signed out and went to the car park. On the way, Hotch went to the men's room and washed the blood off the prosthetic, and replaced it. Much as he hated to wear it, it was better than the ugly (he thought) alternative. They decided to go in Reid's car. Hotch's hands were aching and he wanted to give them a rest

-0-0-0-

Hotch noticed the woman as soon as he entered the diner. She was everything Haley wasn't. Dark eyes, thick black hair and a pale complexion. Tall with an almost athletic build. Not a look he usually noticed. But he felt almost compelled to leave Reid where he was and go and talk to her. He shoved his hands in his pocket and sat facing away from her.

Reid got the coffees. Hotch could feel the woman's eyes burning into the back of his neck and it was all he could do not to turn around and stare at her. He berated himself for acting like a sixteen year old and not someone on the wrong side of forty...

Come on Reid with those coffees!

'You ok, Hotch?' Reid asked, putting the coffees down on the table. He tilted his head to one side. 'Are you in pain again? Do you want to go?'

'Uh..... No! No I'm f-fine!' he stammered, sounding far from it. Reid looked at him for a second, and then sat down. He decided to make it a quick coffee. Hotch was clearly unwell. Reid didn't want to harp on about it, but he wanted to get him home.

Hotch leaned forwards on his seat and spoke to Reid in a low tone.

'Do you see the dark haired woman at the back?' he whispered.

Reid glanced across to where several lone people were sitting reading the papers or eating.

'Which one?' Reid asked, glancing up surreptitiously.

Hotch frowned. 'Never mind. It's just that.....' he stopped, and Reid waited patiently for him to go on. When he didn't, Reid said,

'Just that what?'

'It's ok. I'm imagining things.' He touched his face carefully, forgetting that Reid watched his every movement.

'You're hurting again, aren't you?'

'A bit.' he answered. 'But nothing I can't cope with.' He picked up his coffee with both hands and took a drink. It was good coffee here, which was why it had become a favourite place for them to stop by after shooting practice. As he put his cup down, it slipped from his hand and tipped coffee into his lap. He stood up quickly as Reid reached for the serviettes.

'Ouch.' said Hotch ruefully. 'That's hot.' and thoughts of the woman behind him fled out of the window in a rush.

Dammit!

He dabbed at his lap while Reid went to get him a refill. He put the pile of soggy napkins on the table and watched Reid at the counter. He felt sad for him, saving up his love for him who couldn't reciprocate. But Reid seemed to be happy enough just being with him, though Hotch was certain that he harboured some "maybe one day" feelings.

Reid was back.

'Thank you.' Hotch smiled – and Reid's heart melted.

They sat in companionable silence while each thought back over the day. Reid had been working, and they had wrapped up a case today.

The highlight of Hotch's day was now.

He was desperate to get back to work.

Reid stood up. 'I won't be a minute, Hotch.' and he disappeared out the back to the men's room. Hotch splayed his hands out on the table in front of him and looked at them.

He had no finger nails, although they were stating to grow now, and the tips of his fingers on his right hand were pink and soft. They were recovering. His left was different though. Plastic covered his little finger and most of the next two fingers. His first finger was shorter than it was, and there was no nail yet.

So ugly, he thought. What woman would ever want these things touching her? He felt tears of regret behind his eyes as he thought how losing parts of his hand could have such a devastating affect on his life. He felt selfish thinking that when there were so many people much worse off than he was. Self loathing followed on the heels of regret, and he was so absorbed that he didn't notice someone sit up to the table opposite him in Reid's seat. It wasn't until she took his hands in hers. He looked up in shock.

'It does not change who you are, you know. You are still the same man as before you lost them.'

He looked up in surprise. His instinct was to pull away his hands and hide them. But he couldn't move under her gaze. He saw his own reflection in her eyes and was held in thrall by them. His mouth was slightly open and his eyes were wide.

'Hello....' he managed to say. 'Aaron...... I'm Aaron.'

Here eyes seemed to flash at him and he couldn't pull away.

'I know.' she said. 'It is you that must remember that.'

He stared at her as she turned his hands over in hers so that they were palms up, and one at a time she kissed each deformed fingertip. Hotch sat in shocked silence as she touched his fingers with her amazing lips. Then she rested his hands back down. With her finger she tilted his head up so that he was staring into her eyes again. Unable to blink lest he miss some of her, and feeling his whole body shake, he held his breath.

'Never forget who you are, Aaron.' and she was gone.

Hotch stared at the space that she had occupied in shock. Reid slid into the seat opposite him, but still he didn't move.

'Hotch, are you alright?' he said. He snapped his fingers in front of Aaron's eyes. 'Aaron!'

Hotch blinked and focussed on Reid.

'She was here, Spencer. She was here and she spoke to me and touched me.'

'Who was, Hotch?'

'The woman. The woman I told you about. She came and touched me.' He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again.

'Didn't you see her? She was sitting right there.' Suddenly Hotch clamped his hand across his mouth and stood up. 'I'm going to be sick!' he mumbled behind his hand. 'I feel ill.'

'Let me help you!' Reid said, and put his arm around Hotch and led him to the men's room. Hotch knelt on the floor in front of the toilet and threw up. He coughed and gagged as his stomach knotted and cavorted, and he clutched at his abdomen in agony.

'She did this.' he gasped between heaving. 'She did this to me.'

'Who did, Hotch? Did she give you something? Has she drugged you?'

But Hotch couldn't hear what he was saying. Tears streamed down his face as he gasped for breath. The cut on his chest hurt and now his stomach felt as if it was on fire.

'God! Help me, Spence!'

Reid took out his phone. 'I'll get a doctor.'

'No!' he said hoarsely. 'Just stay with me!'

Reid put his hand on Hotch's back and rubbed gently as Hotch finally collapsed onto the side of the pan. Reid went and got a handful of paper towels and some water for him. When he came back Hotch was sitting on the floor with his knees drawn up. Reid wiped Hotch's mouth and eyes and threw the tissues into the toilet. Hotch took the rest of them and wiped his face.

He took a shuddering breath. 'I'm ok now, Spence.'

A man came into the men's room and looked for a beat too long at Hotch and Reid sitting on the floor, and decided to leave.

When he had gone, Reid asked, 'What did she do?'

I..... I d-don't know. She touched me. She touched my hands and my face.' Hotch put his head in his hands. 'I'm losing it, Spencer.' he said, fear in his words. 'Please, take me home.'

Reid put his arm around Hotch and helped him to stand, and he staggered slightly as they left the men's room and went through the diner and out to the car park. Hotch didn't notice how heads turned and watched the two men leave. Reid opened his car and carefully sat a helpless Aaron in the front seat, and strapped him in. He ran round to his side of the car and started up the engine.

'Tell me if you need me to stop, Hotch.' Reid said as they drove out of the car park.

'Mmm.' Hotch acknowledged. He was afraid to speak.

Reid drove quickly through the late evening traffic to the big empty house Hotch used to share with his family, now long gone. Reid often wondered why Hotch hadn't moved away, found somewhere with fewer memories, but then, memories were all he had.

He parked outside and helped Hotch out of his seat in the car. He used Hotch's keys to unlock the door, and he helped him climb the stairs to his bedroom. He laid him on the bed and took his shoes off, He turned him onto his side, and pulled the quilt over him.

'I'll be downstairs if you need me.' Reid said to Hotch, and left him to sleep.

Reid made himself a drink and turned on the TV, but he couldn't watch the film that was on.

What on Earth had happened to Hotch in the diner? Had he been drugged or poisoned? And the woman? Reid had seen no-one. He put his hand on his forehead and frowned.

Was Hotch losing it like he said? Or had there been someone?

He lay back on the couch and turned off the TV. They could talk about it in the morning.