Aaron shouldn't have gone into that warehouse alone. Spencer was sure he realized that, but he just had to keep his family safe.

They were having a nice family after dinner walk. Jack had asked about all of the nativity scenes he had seen in front of churches causing the young genius to begin rambling about the birth of Jesus, the shepherds that were visited by angles, and the wise men that later visited the baby Jesus. That was when Aaron had looked over and seen something by the warehouse. He immediately let go of his son's hand and yelled at his lover to call for back up. Before Spencer had even been able to get his phone out he had heard the gunshot.

And now Aaron was lying in a hospital bed with both legs broken, a head injury, a broken collarbone, and a stab wound in his side. Apparently the gunshot had been wide, thank goodness.

Spencer silently thanked God that his boyfriend was asleep, because he didn't want the strong man to see him like this. The second the doors of Aaron's ambulance had shut, the young genius had wanted to fall apart, but the small body pressed against his denied him that chance. Morgan had to drive them to the hospital, shooting concerned looks and offering the occasional, awkward pat on the shoulder. Reid appreciated that he was trying, but nothing could help. He knew the stab wound was deep, and Aaron had been losing blood fast when they finally managed to get to him. Nothing was going to make him okay until Hotch was looking at him, grinning at their son, and holding him close again.

Spencer clasped his shaking hands together in his lap, watching his lover with puffy, bloodshot eyes. His chest ached from holding the tears in, the skin of his hands itched for the feeling his lover's fingers, and his limbs were stiff from being curled up in the hard, scratchy armchair beside Aaron's bed. He only looked away from the bruised face when he heard, "Reid."

Morgan stood in the doorway, holding a cup of coffee. He frowned. "Maybe you should head home. Get some sleep."

Spencer shook his head. "I can't." He wasn't sure exactly what that meant – if he couldn't leave, or if he couldn't sleep. It didn't matter. He just couldn't.

Morgan's frown deepened, but he clearly knew better than to fight the younger man. "Here, then." He placed the coffee on the table next to the chair. "Would you like me to Jack to my place?" While the genius knew it would be good for the kid to get some real sleep in a bed, he couldn't stop his arms from tightening around the sleeping body in his lap.

"No, he's fine. You should go home yourself, Morgan. You look tired."

"Can't. I have some talking to do with the cops." Spencer knew he was lying, and that he was trying to stay to make sure they were alright. It was a nice gesture, but the young man didn't want him there. It was humiliating enough that he had seen him almost become a sobbing mess in the passenger seat of his car. Morgan didn't need to be hovering over him while he –

While he what? Preemptively grieved? The thought made him shudder. No. Aaron wasn't going to die. He couldn't. No matter how many times the doctors told the genius that his condition was stable, however, the thought kept creeping back into his mind. He'd spent so long trying to come to terms with what could happen – Aaron getting kidnapped, Aaron getting hurt, Aaron getting killed – but now that it was happening, he didn't know what to do. He had told himself that he would be strong and stoic and refuse to collapse. He had tried to be prepared. He just wanted it not to hurt so much.

No luck there.

He felt weak. He was supposed to be a Federal Agent, for God's sake, not acting like a scared girl. But he didn't know how to deal with this. He saw death up close every single day, but not with someone he knew and loved. He had seen more grieving lovers than he could count, but he could never imagine being one of them.

"You need anything?" Morgan's kind question surprised the younger man, bringing him out of the depths of his mind.

"No." Spencer's voice was hoarse. "I'm okay."

Morgan shuffled uncomfortably for a moment, jangling his keys and glancing everywhere but his unkempt partner and his broken-down boss. "I'll be outside," he finally said, clearing his throat.

"Alright."

"That is, for if there's something you… need help with."

"Thanks, Derek."

Morgan gave him a nod. He looked as if he wanted to say something else, but he turned and left with little more than an anxious glance. That was fine with the genius.

Spencer took Aaron's hand. His fingers were icy. With a spike of fear, he glanced at the heart monitor – it was still beeping away. He wished they wouldn't keep the rooms so cold.

With a sigh, he tried to scoot closer to the bed only to be hindered by the small body in his lap. He adjusted the boy so that he could intertwine Aaron's limp fingers with his own. The genius simply stared at their hands for a long time. He felt horribly empty. The adrenaline was completely gone, but the tears continued to threaten to fall. His thumb drifted mindlessly back and forth over the colder one, and he barely noticed when his eyelids slipped closed.

"Daddy look it's snowing outside!"

Spencer awoke, but he didn't open his eyes. Go away, he thought. Leave us alone, let me sleep before I have to wake up and keep freaking out again…

His heart nearly stopped when he heard, "That it is Jack and just as soon as we get out of here I'm sure Dad will build a snowman with you." He could hear a smile in the voice.

The boy squealed and Spencer could hear him clapping and jumping up and down in front of window. "I can't wait to make one! And then we get to come inside and have hot chocolate and listen to Christmas music…"

The young genius tuned the child's voice out as he dared to open his eyes. He instantly closed them again – the sun burned, and they ached from the tears that had spilt in his sleep. He reopened them after a moment and, this time, forced them to stay that way as he looked into the smiling face of his boyfriend.

"Hey, Sleepyhead." Aaron smiled. "I think our son might need to be taken for a walk."

Spencer sat up, staring at him in wonder. The doctors had said he was stable, but they said not to expect him to wake up for at least two days.

"I'm fine Spencer," Aaron replied to the obvious fear and worry in his lover's eyes. "It's only a scratch. It's only a scratch, honest. The doctors say it won't even scar, not that another would ma-"

Spencer's lips were pressed against his before he could finish. When the younger man pulled back, he could feel his eyes watering. "You… you're okay," he gasped.

"Of course I am, Spencer." Aaron's face was bruised and his lip was split, but it didn't make his smile any less radiant. "I couldn't leave you alone with that ball of energy we call our son, now could I?"

Spencer exhaled in a burst of breathless laughter, still stunned. "You certainly seemed to be trying your hardest to see how close to that line you could get," he responded shakily.

"I couldn't let them hurt you" He replied. "They saw me and I knew that they would come after you two next."

"I know Aaron, just never do anything so stupid again." He looked down at his lover's hand – it seemed he had been holding it all night. "You could have at least given me some clue as to what you were planning."

Aaron tilted his head, looking utterly unfettered. "You know I wanted to keep you from harm." He shrugged the shoulder without the broken collarbone. "I would do it again if it meant nothing happened to you. Either of you." He emphasized glancing at their son who had started naming his favorite Christmas songs. "Besides someone had to be left with the chatterbox."

Spencer shook her head. "Aaron…" Her voice was quiet. "Don't be funny right now, okay?"

Aaron frowned. "Why not?"

"Because it's not funny!" Spencer couldn't help but stare. "How do you not see that? You could have died, Aaron. And maybe that doesn't matter to you, but it does to me."

"I'm okay, Spencer. Really."

"But next time you might not be, Aaron, and then what will I do?" Spencer tightened his grip on Aaron's hand. "I thought I would be okay if something happened to you. Sad, heartbroken, but okay. But now… Now I'm not so sure."

Aaron frowned. "It's not like I wanted to get stabbed. I've been doing the best I could. What do you want from me?"

"I want you to let me help you, Aaron!"

"Why? So you can get hurt?" Aaron struggled in his bed, sitting up as straight as he could. "How do you think I would have felt if you were where I am now? Do you think I would have taken it better than you are?"

The two glared at each other for a moment, then Spencer sighed. "I do dangerous things every day. It's my job, you know that." Aaron spoke quietly. "It's our job. And when we are on the job I'm not always in a position to protect you from the weirdos and the crazys but when we are off the clock being a family, then I will do everything within my power to always ensure that you are safe.

Spencer looked down at their entwined fingers. "Promise me…" Spencer bit her lip. He felt childish saying it, and he knew it wasn't something he should ask, knew it was something that Aaron could never promise no matter how badly he wanted to, but he needed to hear him say it. "Promise me that you'll never die."

Aaron looked at his lover, his eyes wide. Spencer was fairly certain that he'd never heard him sound so afraid, but he didn't care. If he couldn't be vulnerable with husband, who could he be vulnerable with?

Aaron pulled the younger man toward him. He crawled onto the bed, curling against his lover's unwounded side an arm was wrapped his shoulders. "I promise, Spencer," he said quietly, kissing his forehead gently. "Nothing could ever make me leave you."

Spencer let a smile bloom over his features. He rested his head beside Aaron's on the pillow, listening to the steady, rhythmic beep of the heart monitor.

"Daddy, Dad are you listening?" Jack's voice finally registered again with the two adults. "What's your favorite Christmas song Dad?"

Spencer reluctantly scooted off the bed and back into the chair that he swore was made in hell as some sort of torture device. "I guess I would have to say 'The Little Drummer Boy'". The genius replied as he pulled his rambunctious son onto his lap.

"Why that one?" Jack asked clearly unsure why his Dad would choose such a 'boring' song.

"Because when it was written …" And just like that all seemed right with the world again. Yeah they were sitting in a hospital in torture chairs from hell and Aaron was banged up; but as Spencer rambled on about the meaning of the song and the story of how it was created, he realized that this was just another moment in their lives.