Author's Note: This is a multi-chapter story inspired by the song "Tupelo" by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. All lyrics in italics are from the song, and do not belong to me. Nick Cave has more brilliance in his toenail clippings than I have in my entire being. ;) This is my first story involving an UnSub, and although it begins with a Hotch injury, that isn't the main focus of the story. And now, if it pleases ye...on with the show!

Looka yonder! Looka yonder!
Looka yonder! A big black cloud come!
A big black cloud come!
O comes to Tupelo. Comes to Tupelo


"Aaron, hold still. Help is on the way."

Help. Aaron closed his eyes against the pain and swallowed hard. He struggled to remember who he was, where he was, what had happened. There was a blast, and fire, and falling, but it was all a blur. Gun shots, screams, darkness. So much darkness. He grimaced as a wave of pain washed over him.

"What…what…happened?" he gasped, struggling to open his eyes. His lashes felt wet and sticky, instinctively he knew it was blood. He tried to lift his arm to wipe his eyes, to sit up, but searing pain shot through him and he let it fall back to his side. "Dave?" He was struggling to take breaths, his chest felt like it was caving in and his body was on fire.

"Shhh, Aaron, it's ok. You're going to be ok, just lie still." Aaron could hear the worry in Rossi's voice, but he tried to ignore it. Rossi's hand was on the injured man's chest, resting gently as a mode of comfort, not pressure on a wound. Aaron could tell that much, at least.

"What happened?" he asked again, struggling against the pain and urge to fall into the blackness again. There was so much chaos around him, flashing blue and red lights, people shouting, fires burning. A man came and asked Rossi to wear a mask, and handed him one to put over Aaron's face as well. There was so much smoke.

"We can talk about it later, you need to just relax, Aaron, save your energy. Everything will be ok."

Save your energy, that's what Foyet had said to him years ago, as he stabbed him repeatedly. He remembered that feeling as he lay there, unable to move, and now as he lay on the hot asphalt he tried to take Foyet's advice. Of all the things in the universe that didn't make sense, him taking advice from Foyet fell right at the top of the list, and yet here he was. His limbs felt weak as he tried to move his fingers and toes, just to make sure. He could feel his extremities, that was comforting. They all hurt, but he could feel them. It was something. And then everything went black.


The team were all sitting in the waiting room, just wanting answers. They hadn't seen exactly what happened, they'd all been scattered around the property, but they had all been there and seen the explosion from different angles. Rossi had been in the ambulance with his friend and was trying to fill everyone in as best he could, but even he had his limits when it came to being calm and collected. He was worried about his friend, and try as he might, he couldn't hide it from the team.

"Dave, they said he'd be ok, right?" Morgan asked in his usual brash tone.

"They said they would do everything they could," Rossi replied, his tone clipped and stern. "They assured me he was in good hands."

"We gotta believe them," Morgan assured them, running his hand over his head nervously. "Can't be out here worrying, we gotta believe he will be ok. In the meantime, what the hell do we do now? Our Unit Chief is out, and I don't see him coming back any time soon, and we got an UnSub out there needing to be caught…"

"Morgan, please," Garcia began, a tear in her eye. She'd been ignoring the buzzing phone in her purse for the last few minutes, but finally pulled it out and fiddled with it numbly.

"No, baby girl, I don't mean to be rude but we can't pretend that he's just gonna be back with us tonight and fine. We got a bad guy to catch and Hotch can't help us. "

"I know, but…" Garcia stammered, but she lost her voice in a stream of tears. She felt everything so deeply. "But Hotch…" was all she could muster before a doctor in green scrubs came through the swinging doors and approached Agent Rossi. Garcia excused herself to the women's room to wash up and see what all the buzzing in her phone was over. She needed a distraction.

Rossi and the surgeon talked quietly for a few minutes as the team watched, trying to read the body language. The doctor was subdued and quiet, and Rossi was slowly nodding his head and trying his best to maintain his composure. It did not look good. Finally, after what seemed like forever, the doctor walked back into the OR and Rossi approached the team solemnly. Garcia returned from the restroom in time to hear the result of the conversation, and she had some news of her own – she'd received a copy of the surveillance footage of the explosion.

"He's alive," Rossi began, and the entire team let out the breath they'd been holding. "He's not out of the woods yet, but he's alive. He has first and second degree burns on his arms and torso, a broken clavicle, collapsed lung and second degree burns on his calves. He's also suffered a severe concussion, and right now they think he's bleeding internally and are trying to figure out where. He's not out of the woods yet…but his heart is beating. It's something. The surgeon said that, considering the trauma, he's in relatively good shape and lucky to be alive."

"He's a fighter," JJ said softly, her arms folded across her chest. She was still wearing her Kevlar vest and she tucked her small fingers inside the straps and held on tight. She thought of Jack, that poor kid who always had to worry about his father and whether he would be coming home to him. He believed his father was a superhero, and maybe he was, but as the saying goes, the bigger they are, the harder they fall. "I need to call Jessica and let her know…" she said quietly to Rossi, who just nodded knowingly. JJ left quietly as she pulled out her phone, trying to keep herself within earshot of the OR but in a quiet enough place to talk.

Morgan turned his back to Rossi for a moment and composed himself quietly. He wasn't an emotional man, but this was almost too much. Hotch, for all their differences, was a good friend and knowing he was in there fighting for his life while the rest of them got away without a scratch was almost more than he could shoulder. Couple that with the fact that the UnSub got away and it was a recipe for a long night of drinking and a morning hangover. Garcia approached him and touched his arm.

"Derek?" she squeaked. He turned to look at her, his brown eyes stormy and darker than usual. She put her hand on his and squeezed. "It's not your fault, you know."

"You don't know that."

"No, I do know that. I watched the surveillance footage – no one saw it coming. The UnSub set the whole building to blow, you guys walked right into his trap. You were never going to catch him tonight."

"But I'm the reason we went in the first place, I should have seen it coming. The profile said he was unpredictable and could change his patter if he felt like we were getting too close, but I thought by treating him like he was predictable…I'm the reason Hotch went…" his voice trailed off, and he could feel his cheeks flushing with anger. Penelope, unusually calm for the situation, shook her head sadly, her ponytail flopping from side to side.

"Derek Morgan, my love, my light…it doesn't make any difference. You all agreed that it was your best shot at stopping another massacre. He was ready for you guys, whoever went in that door would trigger the whole building. If it hadn't been Hotch, it would have been you, or JJ, or Reid…"

Derek shook his head dismissively, unable to hear the voice of reason. "It should have been me."


Distant thunder rumble. Distant thunder rumble
Rumble hungry like the Beast