Rossi had gotten Hotch into his car after the whole bullpen scene. Once Hotch had thrown up in the middle of the office, it seemed like everybody just froze, watching their leader throw up into the Bullpen.

When Rossi had regained himself he lightly rubbed the younger man's back, hoping to calm the man as his body spasmed. He sent a glance In the direction of the team, unsure of what he would find. They were frozen in shock. Morgan was the first to move, ushering the team back into the conference room.

Rossi silently thanked Morgan with a nod once he met the man's eyes. He slowly steered Hotch towards the elevator. "Okay..Okay." He soothed quietly, leading the sick man out of the office.

Once the elevator doors closed, Hotch leaned heavily against the wall. He leaned his head back, the cool metal calming his burning skin. He felt Rossi's worried gaze. "What Dave.." He sighed, eyes fixed up at the ceiling.

Rossi shook his head, remaining silent as the elevator ride came to a quick end. He looked at Hotch, wanting the man to go first. Hotch wanted to glare, but he was way to tired. He sighed and stood up a bit too fast. Black spots flashed over his vision. A wave of nausea hit him, as he leaned forward, pushing his hands into the wall.

Rossi was by his side in a flash. He grabbed onto the man's torso to hold him up. When Hotch tired to move, Rossi's grip tightened. "Put your arm around me."

Hotch resisted. "Hotch." He pushed, standing up with Hotch in his arms. He grabbed Hotch's arm and draped it over his shoulder, holding on so Hotch couldn't wiggle free. The younger man made no fight against this as Rossi slowly led him out of the elevator and towards his car, almost dragging Hotch behind him.

He made it to his car, Hotch struggling against him. Rossi sighed and pulled his keys from his pocket. He made his way to the Passengers side and opened the door, helping Hotch get into the car.

Once his leader was settled, he shut the door and made the way to his side. He slipped into the car and glanced at the younger man who had almost curled up in his seat, his eyes closed. He was out. Rossi couldn't help but chuckle at him. He grabbed Hotch's seatbelt and carefully pulled it across the him, not wanting to disturb Aaron. He rolled his eyes in amusement before turning the key and driving to Aaron's apartment, listening to his quiet, exhausted snores.

He hated that it didn't surprise him that Hotch had gotten sick. Rossi's fingers impatiently tapped the wheel as he cast a glance at his sick friend. He couldn't help but feel pity towards the younger man. Never before had he seen Hotch so frail. The man was shivering in his seat, his head resting on the window as he slept, the heat from his skin causing the window to fog due to the cold winter air on the outside.

He pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex. He parked the car and turned it off, the heat of the car slowly dissipating. The man beside him shivered at the cold that began to seep into the car. He didn't want to wake Aaron up, but he knew he wouldn't be able to carry that man up there. "Aaron." He said quietly as he lightly shook his shoulder.

Aaron's eyes flickered open. He looked at the apartment building and nodded tiredly, not speaking a word as he pushed open the car door, the cold air causing him to visibly shiver, his body shaking as he stood up. He groaned softly at the effort and leaned on the car as Rossi came around. Once again Rossi took charge and grabbed Hotch's arm, holding it over his shoulder. "Alright Aaron, we're almost there." He murmured, half helping, half carrying the other man up and into the building.

It took awhile, but the pair finally made it into the apartment. Once inside, Rossi let go of Hotch.

"Go get cleaned up. I'll make you something." The older man said softly. Hotch didn't say anything as he slowly made his way to his room, leaning against the wall as he walked.

Rossi sighed and stepped into the kitchen, hoping to find something that Aaron would be able to keep down. He rummaged through the pantry. There really wasn't much of anything, thus explaining why Aaron barely had any energy. He shook his head, disappointment blossoming in his chest as he dug to the back and found a can of soup. He checked the date on it, thankful it wasn't expired.

He put the can on the counter and was about to start the search for a pan when his phone went on it. "Rossi." He answered easily, listening to Morgan on the other line,

Hotch entered his room, exhaustion threatening him. He sighed heavily and slipped off his suit coat, wanting nothing more than to slip into bed and sleep this off. He planned on retuning to work tomorrow. He figured he'd let Dave do what he wanted for a day, but Hotch couldn't stay away from the job for long. He threw his coat onto his bed as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt. He walked into the bathroom, allowing his shirt to flutter to the ground. He turned on a hot shower. He undressed the rest of the way after grabbing a t-shirt and black and white plaid pajama pants. He shivered, waiting for the water to heat up.

Once he saw the steam he stepped into the shower, sighing in relief as the scalding water hit his feverish skin, calming the shivers. He stood in the shower, making no move to clean himself, willing the water to wash away this illness. He shivered underneath the heat.

Nausea hit him like a truck. He leaned against the cool stone wall, his stomach constantly turning. He gagged, knowing that he had nothing left in his stomach. He had emptied everything earlier back in his office….and over Rossi's desk. Damn… He retched, his throat burning with the effort as stomach acid slithered up his throat. He spit, his body shaking with such a task.

Suddenly everything felt as if it slowed down. The pain in his head intensified, as it had done twice before that morning, just after he had thrown up. He grabbed his head, pushing the wet hair off his forehead. He rested his head against the wall.

Pain was all he felt as his stomach churned as if it were on a continuous roller coaster.

Rossi had finally found a pan, his cellphone against his ear as he set the empty pan on the stove. Morgan had been informing him of the case. He nodded, "Yeah I got it Morgan. Fax over that file already." He teased lightly, earning a laugh from Morgan on the other line.

"You got it Rossi. How's Hotch?"

Rossi looked up at Aaron's room, half expecting the man to have changed into a new suit, ready to head back to work. He shrugged. "He'll make it." He joked quietly.

Morgan chuckled lightly. "Keep an eye on him Rossi. We've got this case covered."

Rossi nodded. "I know..." he sighed lightly, wanting to continue his thought, but was cut off by a loud crash. His brow furrowed.

"Rossi?"

Rossi didn't reply. He knew where the sound had come from. His heart was racing, unsure of what he might find. He ran out of the kitchen and pushed open Hotch's door, not bothering to knock.

"Rossi? ...come on man."

He pushed into the bathroom. He froze. The shower was running and Hotch was slumped on the floor against the wall. Blood was trickling from behind his ear. His eyes were shut.

"Rossi!" Morgan's voice snapped through the phone.

Rossi blinked. "Yeah..yeah I'm here. Hang on. I'll call you back," He shut his phone, ignoring Morgan's protests. He slid his phone into his pocket and stepped into the bathroom. He shook his head in disbelief. He opened the door of the shower, the water soaking his sleeve. He quickly turned off the water, ignoring his vibrating phone in his pocket.

"Okay Hotch...okay." He breathed as he carefully picked up the soaking man. He slowly dragged him out of the shower, his heart racing. Shit he knew he shouldn't have left him alone. He laid down his naked boss, grabbing the towels that were nearby. He easily draped one over him, first checking for a pulse. As soon as he found one, relief washed over him. He let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding. He shook his head and felt Hotch's forehead, recoiling at the heat. His fever must've spiked.

Rossi took the spare towel and cleaned up the blood from Hotch's ear. The wound was tiny. Nothing serious. He quickly bandaged it up and focused on drying Hotch off. He figured the man would be out for awhile. He knew how Hotch would feel if he woke up to his mentor cleaning him and dressing him.

He grabbed the pajamas that Aaron had spread out before his shower. It was a bit of a challenging task, but Rossi was able to lift up the younger's torso and slip the shirt over his head, carefully sticking his arms through the holes. Next he moved to the pants. He grabbed the boxers and slid those over his legs. He grabbed the pants and slipped those onto Aaron easily.

David was able to drag Aaron out of the bathroom. He had gotten him settled on the couch with a pillow he had grabbed from Hotch's bed and extra blankets from one of the closets. He only put two light blankets over Hotch, hoping to subside his shivering. A wet rag had been placed on his forehead as well, wanting to bring down his fever.

Rossi sat in one of the armchairs beside the couch. He was worried that Hotch's fever wouldn't break. If it didn't break soon, or atleast go down, than he planned on calling somebody in to take a look at Aaron. He sighed and rested his head on his hand, watching the sleeping man. He knew that he would be out for awhile. The illness had taken a toll on his body and it took everything out of him to fight it. Hell even changing him and bringing him out here never woke him up.

It wasn't until Hotch started squirming and muttering stuff underneath his breath that Rossi decided to try and wake him up.