"Aaron! Aaron!"
He could hear his name, but it took his brain several minutes to deduce that it was Rossi talking to him. Heat radiated against his face, he could smell smoke and gasoline, and there was a trickle of something warm and wet running down his temple. He pulled his eyelids apart with some considerable effort from his facial muscles, staring into brightness as his vision swam and settled.
"Aaron!"
"Dave?" he questioned, as his brain began to process again. The seatbelt across him felt tight, and when he tried to release himself it didn't budge, and his panic quickly rose, fingers fumbling. Things were still a little hazy but he knew heat and gasoline and being trapped in a vehicle were not a combination he wanted.
With what sounded like particular effort, Hotch's door opened, and Rossi spread a hand out on his chest, stilling him as he hooked the blade of a knife under the seatbelt and cut the strap across his stomach and the one across his chest. He didn't realise his ankle was injured until he put it down on the ground, and his legs buckled. Rossi caught him, grabbing him around the middle and pulling his arm around his neck, hobbling away from the wrecked car with difficulty.
When he was set down on dusty ground, the landscape prompted the memory of the crash to flood back; the chase after the unsub had been thwarted when the SUV Hotch was driving had hit a patch of oil, and at their velocity they'd been hurtled into and through the barrier, down the steep embankment, rolling at least four times. It was a wonder both of them could still walk and talk.
"Where did you get a knife?" he thought to ask, as he fished out his phone from his jacket pocket to find he had no cell reception.
"First aid kit." David hissed in pain, and only then did Hotch focus properly on the man. His sleeves had been rolled up, and his right arm had several long deep gashes in it, which were bleeding profusely. Hotch shrugged off his jacket and grabbed for the man's wrist.
"Put pressure on it." he wrapped it tightly around the man's forearm. "They'll find us soon." between the car that was quickly catching on fire and the damage on the road, the team that followed them in the chase – although they'd been a good way ahead – would find them eventually. There was no chance of climbing the embankment; it was too steep, and Aaron doubted he could walk on his ankle, which he suspected might be broken.
"This is the second SUV you're totalled." Dave mused breathlessly.
"Third." Hotch corrected, gulping down the warm dry air. "Used one as a road block in a chase before you joined the team. Fourth, if you count the SUV that blew up in DC."
"That one wasn't your fault."
"Mm." Hotch sounded, not wanting to swell on the circumstances of that event. "Somehow," he started instead, "I think Jessica is going to object to me teaching Jack how to drive when he's older."
Rossi chuckled.
"He could do worse than learning from his old man."