Disclaimer - See Chapter One

Merry

Chapter Two

'Reid! Hotch! Come in.' Morgan said.

He had reached the entrance to the store and was about to follow Rossi, Prentiss and the SWAT team out onto the sidewalk when he heard Reid whispering in his earpiece.

'Reid!' Morgan repeated. He got no reply. Morgan pushed his way over to the SWAT team leader.

'Jackson! We need to go back in. That son of a bitch is in there and he just took one of our men down.' Morgan waved the SWAT team back into the building as he, Rossi and Prentiss drew their weapons and stepped back inside.

When Reid opened his eyes again he was sitting on the floor, his back to the wall and his legs stretched out in front of him. He had the most disconcerting feeling of having wet himself. His pants were sticking to him. They felt warm. He pressed his hand to the fabric covering his groin. It came back wet and dark. Reid blinked rapidly and drew in a deep breath as he inched his hand upwards, flexing his fingers slightly until the pressure yielded an almost overwhelming throb of pain from a spot low on his abdomen, just above his hip. The throb brought back his memory.

Lowell had shot him. He'd pushed the barrel of Hotch's gun under the bottom of his Kevlar vest and shot him and he'd looked into his eyes and smiled as he did it.

Reid slumped to the side slightly. A flush of warmth rushed over his skin and he wished he'd taken his sweater vest off before he'd strapped on the Kevlar. He straightened his back against the wall and felt the drag of clammy fabric against his skin. His dress shirt was sticking to his back. He was sweating. He wanted to close his eyes but he knew he had to focus.

Lowell had disappeared again but Reid could hear crashing and cursing coming from the entrance area of the toy department. He could hear the dragging of heavy furniture, toys falling to the floor. Lowell was making a barricade.

'Hotch.' Reid called quietly.

Hotch still hadn't moved. Reid would have been scared that Lowell had killed him with the heavy wooden Nutcracker guardsman if he hadn't been able to detect the slight rise and fall of Hotch's back in the blinking red light.

'Hotch.' Reid said again. Nothing.

Reid took a deep breath and started to move away from the wall. He had to get Hotch out of here while Lowell was preoccupied and whilst he knew he wouldn't be able to move his heavier colleague far, even if he was at full fitness, he had to move him somewhere, anywhere but where Lowell had left them.

Reid pushed himself forward and breathed through the wave of nausea that hit him. He looked back at the wall, above where he'd been leaning, and swallowed when he saw the deep hole in the plaster which was surrounded by a halo of blood spatter. His blood spatter. He could see the truncated end of the bullet gleaming wetly at the centre. The bullet had gone right through his body. Reid didn't know if that made him feel better or worse.

A louder crash spurred Reid into action. He pushed himself onto his hands and knees and started to crawl towards Hotch, surprised that he wasn't in more pain. When he had taken a bullet in the knee he couldn't do much more than lay on his back in the grass, let alone crawl.

'Hotch.' He whispered again as he reached the unconscious man. 'Hotch.'

Hotch moaned. Reid tugged at his arm, trying to pull him up and forward.

'Five more minutes.' Hotch slurred.

'Hotch, we need to move, please.' Reid begged.

'No school today mom.' Hotch whined.

Reid closed his eyes as another wave of nausea and heated throbbing washed over him. When it had passed he gave Hotch a hard jab on the shoulder.

'Mom!' Hotch moaned.

There was a cessation in the noise coming from the entrance way. Panic flared in Reid's gut. He had to get Hotch to move.

'Aaron Hotchner, get up now. You'll be late for school!' Reid demanded.

'Mom?' Hotch said, confusion lacing his voice. He still didn't move.

Reid took a deep breath and set his jaw.

'Get up Aaron, or I'll call your father.' Reid said.

Hotch stayed quiet for a moment but then his eyes fluttered open and he blinked. Slowly, very slowly he pulled himself to his hands and knees, groaning as he did so.

Reid wondered how it was possible to hate yourself and feel glad at the same time.

It took more time than Reid would have liked but eventually he managed to half guide, half drag a heavily concussed Aaron Hotchner through a brightly sparkling, silver lametta curtain into Santa's grotto. Once through the curtain Reid allowed his knees to cave beneath him and for a moment he lay on his side and took in his surroundings.

The floor was covered in a light sprinkling of manufactured snow. The walls were decorated with murals of frosted trees, branches twinkling with hundreds of tiny led lights that smoothly undulated in to and out of life. The suggestion of a pathway was created by small huddles of woodland creatures, fawns, rabbits, chipmunks, dotted here and there, all of which lead the eye to the huge sleigh and reindeers stationed at the back of the room.

The sleigh was big enough to carry a stack of presents and an adult, presumably playing Santa, and a child. What Reid really liked about it was that it was big enough to hide behind.

Reid pushed himself back to his knees. Hotch lay next to him, his eyes squeezed shut, his breathing heavy. He blinked.

'Mom?' He said, his words still slurred.

Reid reached out and took hold of Hotch's arm and tugged him forward.

'Come on. We just need to keep out of the way for a while, until its safe.' Reid said. 'We're nearly there.'

As they reached the back of the sleigh Hotch stopped crawling and raised his head to look at Reid. His hair stuck damply to his bloody forehead and his eyes swam, lazily.

'Did I make him mad again Mom?' Hotch asked seconds before his eyes rolled in his head and he lost consciousness once more.

Morgan, Jackson and Rossi stood at the head of the escalator that fed the top floor of Greys Department Store. SWAT had completed a second sweep of all floors, fanning out and progressing upward in the search for the UnSub. Morgan, Rossi and Prentiss found themselves pacing behind a three deep barrier of flak covered men, the front row kneeling, semi automatic weapons at the ready.

Jackson, the SWAT Team leader, approached them.

'So how's this gonna play out?' He asked.

The three profilers exchanged a look. Emily cleared her throat.

'The Unsub is experiencing what is called a psychotic break. He has, at best, a very limited grasp on reality, if that. His mind is lost in his own fantasy and he perceives everyone outside of that fantasy to be a direct threat. Whilst he's in the grip of this type of break he is incapable of empathy or compassion. He won't register any loss of life as an issue but as a necessity. You'll struggle to take him peacefully. Our presence here is preventing him from fulfilling his fantasy. It is dividing his attention. This will only serve to make him more unstable as he battles with his compulsion to seek out new victims to murder and pose and at the same time to elude capture.'

Jackson blew out a long breath. 'So, we see a shot, we take it?'

Emily glanced at Morgan and Rossi.

'Without hesitation.' She replied.

'And your men? Assuming they're still alive, will they fit into his fantasy? Will he use them for his next victims?' Jackson asked.

'They don't fit his type and therefore wouldn't give him the gratification he requires but they are a representation of us and we are stopping him servicing his compulsion.' Rossi replied.

'So he could try to use them as leverage to get out of here?' Jackson pressed.

'Or he'll just kill them.' Morgan sighed.