~~CM~~

Pain, throbbing pain. Aaron lay absolutely still in hopes the pain would... not intensify. Great, he couldn't form a complete thought. He was disoriented and his head hurt. In fact, his whole body hurt, from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet.

He remembered driving in the pouring rain with Spencer towards the unsub's home when the road disappeared from beneath their car. He could remember the car pitching end over end before free falling. Falling for what seemed like for hours. Then nothing, he didn't remember the impact or how he had gotten here.

Here, he questioned himself. They never made it to the unsub's house so where was he?

Opening his eyes, he blinked to see through the fuzziness before he shut them again. Memories flashed through his head, Spencer assuring him that the unsub had been arrested, Morgan's voice through a radio, and a woman handling him, her long wet hair dripping on him.

He opened his eyes again as a wave of dizziness caused his stomach to roll.

The dark-haired woman leaned into his line of sight, her features coming into focus. She held up a cup. He sipped at the cool water as she pressed the glass to his mouth. Tramping down the sensation to vomit, he tried to get his bearings. The woman's sharp eyes caught him and she held up the trash can.

Aaron shook his head at her only to find himself clutching his head as his blinding pain coursed through. Throbbing, his brain seemed to want to escape from his skull. Her cold hands covered his then gently maneuvered him until he was lying on his side again. She brought the trash can close to his face and he vomited. She wiped his face with a wet cloth as he closed his eyes in embarrassment.

After several minutes of trying to get his stomach to settle with sheer will, he opened his eyes. He glanced around the room but he couldn't see much from the floor. Watching the flames dance in the fireplace made his eyes hurt. He closed his eyes for just a moment, allowing them a reprieve from the brightness.

When he re-opened his eyes, he realized he must have slept for some time as his surroundings seemed different. No longer on the wood floor, he was on a couch, the scratchy material irritating his bare skin. Realizing he wasn't wearing a shirt, Aaron's hands moved down under the heavy blankets, sighing in relief when he realized his boxer briefs were on.

The click-clacking of fingers on a keyboard, papers rustling, and quiet breathing were the only sounds inside. Outside, the storm raged on, thumping rain on the roof and windows of the cabin. Glancing around, he noted the simple decorations; this was a comfortable home with sturdy mountain style log furniture.

The source of the breathing popped it's head up. A beautiful chocolate lab sniffed him before standing up to place its head on his chest. Aaron pulled his arm free of the blanket to pet the dog's head. He was rewarded with a quick lick to his hand.

"Mom, Nutella woke him up!" A child's voice called out urgently, "Nutella, come. Come here."

Aaron slowly scooted up on the couch, his head still throbbing, until he was sitting up. He noted a young boy of seven or eight, with blond curls, staring at him. Spencer appeared on the stairs, the woman following him close behind. They converged on him as he pulled the blanket higher, covering the scars on his chest.

"Hotch, this is Anna Laine and her son, Thomas. They rescued us," Spencer introduced them, "This is SSA Aaron Hotchner."

Anna, Thomas, he tried to commit their names to memory. Aaron closed his eyes, rubbing them with his hands. His concussion was definitely causing confusion.

"Thank you for your assistance, Anna and Thomas," he said as the dog approached him again.

Thomas joined the dog, both sitting on the floor in front of the couch facing him, "this is Nutella. She is the one you should thank. She barked and told us you needed help."

Dropping his hand to the dog's head, Aaron patted her, "Thank you, Nutella." He caught the eye of Anna, catching a fleeting smile. Suddenly, he remembered throwing up as this beautiful woman held him. His cheeks flamed red and he turned his attention to Thomas and his dog.

When he looked up again, Spencer was holding a t-shirt out for him. Aaron accepted it, pulling his arms through first and pulling it over his head.

"Thomas, come help me get Agent Hotchner some broth and medicine."

"Call me Aaron, please," he said to their retreating backs.

This time Spencer was holding his pants. Aaron threw the blankets to the side and lifted his legs, slipping into his pants. Half standing, he zipped and buttoned them. Sitting back down, he felt exhausted, as if he had run a marathon.

"Reid, how long was I asleep?" He muttered as he tried to stop his body from sweating with the exertion of putting his clothes on.

"Five hours," Spencer sat down in the armchair, turning his body to face Aaron. He had moved stiffly, seemingly favoring his left side.

"Are you hurt?" Aaron asked the younger man in his agent in charge voice.

"I sprained my arm and my shoulder is sore," Spencer flapped his left hand as if to wave off his injuries. "The storm caused flash floods, taking out several roads. We are stranded here until they can get a helicopter in the air."

"I'm fine now, emergency evac isn't necessary." Aaron said, "The case?"

"Rogers is the unsub. They found trophies at his workplace. When the roads reopen, locals will search his house but Rossi got him to confess an hour ago. Morgan says it's a slam dunk." Spencer shifted in his seat, trying his hardest not to talk with his hands, "I'll go call them on the radio and tell them to hold off on the rescue."

Nodding, Aaron made a request, "can you have the team call Jack? Tell him we are stuck out here but I'm okay."

"No problem, Hotch."

Anna returned, a steaming mug in her hand, "a little chicken broth until we are sure your stomach can handle food."

"Sorry about that," he started to apologize about vomiting but she held up her hand to stop him.

"You were pretty bad off. I think you'll be fine now," she placed a bottle of ibuprofen on the coffee table. Thomas joined them with a plate of saltine crackers.

Aaron took the mug and sipped slowly. His stomach was settled within a few minutes. Anna and Aaron sat quietly, the fire crackling, as Spencer and Thomas chatted on the CB radio. The boy seemed to be friends with the various park rangers and was quickly getting to know Morgan.

Anna ushered Spencer into the kitchen to make him a bowl of soup. Aaron accepted crackers from Thomas. The boy handed him a cracker and then split one for himself and the dog. They repeated this until his mother entered the room; the boy's face a perfect expression of innocence.

"No people food for Ella," Anna admonished her son, fighting the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She busied herself handing out pills to Spencer and Aaron, "This will help."

~~CM~~

He's so handsome, Anna thought as she watched Aaron dry swallow the pills and accept the glass of water, sipping slowly.

Aaron Hotchner had hair as dark hers and piercing brown eyes beneath brooding eyebrows. A strong jawline and high cheekbones, she sighed. His lips, God, his lips were just begging to be kissed. The cuts across his face didn't detract from his good looks, in fact, it made him look a little badass. Anna recalled his scarred chest, he was a badass if he had survived whatever gave him those wounds.

He was fading fast though, having used up all his energy on dressing and sitting up. Anna couldn't help but smile indulgently at him.

"All right, there, Aaron," she took the glass from his hand, placing it on the table behind her. Anna cradled his head, one hand on the right side to avoid the huge bump and placed her other hand on his shoulder. He allowed her to lay him down and he was asleep before she could pull the blankets up over him.

Glancing over, she saw that Spencer still had his pills in hand, distracted by the scene before him. This FBI agent was good looking too but where Aaron Hotchner had classic good looks, this young man was beautiful. He could have been a model with his facial structure and long lean build. Her own experience with the FBI had made her expect all agents to be older white men on the doughy side. Shaking her head to dismiss her errant thoughts, she told Spencer to take his medicine and Thomas to eat his dinner.

After dinner, they retired to the loft upstairs. It was lined with bookcases and comfy seating including a bean bag chair and a rocking chair. As the night dragged on, Anna asked Thomas to grab his belongings and join her in her bedroom. "Spencer, you can sleep in Thomas's room. I'll keep an eye on Mr. Hotchner tonight."

Anna went through the house, locking things down, turning off the power off all the appliances except for the furnace and fridge. She used the bathroom after everyone was asleep, then turned on a few LED flameless candles in case anyone needed to move through the house in the dark. After one last check on the sleeping man, she retired to her room, snuggling up with Thomas.

She got up every two hours to check on Aaron. During her second check, he was sitting up petting Ella again. "Do you need some water? More medicine for your headache?"

"Ah, no," his voice hesitant, "I need to use the restroom."

"No problem. I will help you to the door and then back to the couch. Dizziness is common with head injuries."

Anna helped him into a standing position then waited to be sure he wouldn't fall over. She was sure he did not want her help but he was too polite to object as she slipped her arm around his waist.

Aaron allowed her to help him back to the couch so she could ply him with pills and water. She thought he was doing better already, given the dazed look in his eye had been replaced with a focused gaze.

"Real food in the morning, okay?" She promised as she tucked him in again.

~~CM~~

A/N: Thank you all for reading, reviewing, favoriting, and following!

I'm on Tumblr if you want to chat: GoodGodHenry.