THE HURTING
Chapter 4
Loves and Losses

For they know not to do right, saith the LORD, who store up violence and robbery in their palaces." - Bible quotes

The flight back to Quantico seemed to take forever. Usually they slept, either in anticipation of a long case, or in exhaustion at the end of one. But Aaron didn't sleep. Exhausted, yes, but not tired. Still coming to terms with losing Haley and Jack, now he suddenly realised he had no where to go to when they landed. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead in his palm. He looked up and Spencer was sitting opposite him.

"Would you like to spend the night at mine." He said, a little tentatively. "You can stay as long as you need, until you've sorted out what you want to do."

"Thank you, Reid." He said. "That would certainly help me. I'd kind of forgotten my house has burnt down. What with everything else......."

Spencer smiled at him and briefly rested his hand on Hotch's. "Your welcome."

He got up and went back to the bench seat he had been lying on. Hotch lay down sideways on his seat and thought about what he was going to do, how they were going to handle the case when it is so close to his heart. He couldn't sleep, and wondered how he was going to manage to not fall asleep on his feet.

But he did sleep. The next thing he was aware of was Dave gently shaking him awake.

"We're landing, Aaron. Time to strap yourself in." As Hotch sat up and pulled the strap across his hips, Dave added, "You can come back to mine if you like."

"Thanks, Dave but Reid has already asked me."

"Good." He said. "As long as you are ok."

Hotch smiled at his friend. "Thanks."

But they weren't going home tonight. Back at the BAU, they sat around the round table, Hotch and Reid went to see the remains of Hotch's house. To see if there was anything salvageable.

It's only stuff, Hotch tried to tell himself as he surveyed the smouldering ruins of his once very nice house. Only bricks and mortar.

But therein were all his memories of when he was part of a family. When he had a loving wife and an amazing little boy. Those memories were his life line – his connection with a time in his life when he was really happy. A job he loved and gave one hundred per cent, and a family he loved with all his heart to whom he also gave one hundred per cent.

Gone.

Taken by someone who was just out to hurt him by any means possible.

Someone who had his child.

He turned away from the mess and moved slowly back to the car.

"Get me out of here, Spencer." He said softly.

-0-0-0-

A way north of where the two agents were getting into the SUV, a man was on his way home. It had been a long day, and contrary to the rules, he was wearing his uniform home. He had been too shattered to shower at work, and just wanted to strip off and fall into bed. He smelled of food, and he was aware that people were avoiding sitting on the subway seat next to him. He could hardly blame them.

This was dammed hard work. Yes he was learning from the best, but he sometimes wondered if his brother had been right.

No. He would never admit that. Never.

His brother was stubborn, but he had the humility to come and apologise to him. He himself would never have done that.

Was humility a weakness? He thought it probably was, so why was humility so darn difficult? Weakness was usually the road of least resistance. But if he admitted that it wasn't a weakness, it meant that his brother was stronger than he was.

And he wasn't about to admit that either.

Damn him!

He got off the subway in a gaggle of passengers, and made his fragrant way to the turnstile. Putting his ticket in the machine, and retrieving it on the other side, he was not aware of the passengers pushing and shoving their way home. He was only aware of his own battle to get to his bed.

He posted the used ticket in the bin and plugged in his i-pod. Al Green. Nice and mellow soul, to get him calm before he got home. He found that it worked, calmed his heart ready for a good night's sleep.

As Al sang of how tired he was of being alone, he climbed alone up the stairs to his apartment, the irony of it lost on him. Now he was out of the crowds of commuters in the streets, he became vaguely aware that he was being followed. He stopped on the second landing, and listened. The stairs in the old brownstone creaked, but the night was silent.

Imagining things you wuss!

He ran up the final flight and slipped the key into the lock. He went in and closed the door behind him. He had just switched on the light when there was a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" he called.

"I'm your neighbour." came the reply. "A package came for you."

He tried to think if he had been expecting anything. He often ordered stuff off e-bay, but he was sure he had everything he had ordered.

"Hold on!" he said, and unlocked the door again.

The man in the hall didn't look familiar.

"You have a package for me?"

"Sean Hotchner?"

The blond man nodded.

"This is for you."

The man with one eye had a baseball bat, and he swung it at Sean's head. Sean didn't go down but he staggered back into his hallway, arms up to try to protect himself. The man swung the bat again and hit him across the bridge of the nose. He cried out as this time he went down. The man stopped to close the door. Sean looked up and blinked as the bat came down again across his mouth. Sean felt his teeth snap under the assault. The next hit he blocked with his hands and he yelped as fingers broke and the bat crunched across his nose, which was smashed against his face. He fell back dazed and unable to move. Again and again the bat swung, smashing his face and cracking his eye socket. The man didn't stop until Sean was dead, one eye leaking down his face, and brain matter seeping from his ear. The last swipe broke the bat. The one eyed man ground the sharp split wooden end into Sean's stomach and out the other side.

He looked down at his handy work and smiled.

"A dead Hotchner is a good Hotchner!" he smirked, and proceeded to smash up the apartment. "A robbery gone wrong." he said to the congealing mess on the hall floor. He stuck the other end of the broken bat into what had been Sean's mouth. "Sorry I can't stay, Hotchner, but I have a nephew of yours to home!" and he left the apartment.

Al Green sang, "Let's stay together." to no one in particular.

-0-0-0-

Hotch was glad to get back to the BAU. He joined the rest of the team in the conference room.

"Any news?"

"Nothing. Jack hasn't been taken out of the country, we can be almost certain of that." Reid said.

"Almost?"

"Unless he has access to his own plane, but then he would still need to use an airport, and all the smaller landing strips have been alerted."

There are always methods that escape detection." Hotch said. "What about the schools?"

"All alerted. That is more long term though."

"Papers?"

"All the leading nationals are going to carry his picture on the front page. Someone will recognise him." JJ said.

""No one recognised Madeleine McCann and her picture went world wide." Hotch said, the now familiar panicky feeling flooding back over him. He closed his eyes and fought for control. He couldn't fail his little boy now. His Daddy was all he had fighting his corner. He had to come through for him.

He realised Dave was speaking to him.

"We'll find him, Hotch. I promise we won't stop until he's back with you."

"We know who this UnSub is." Emily said. "That has to give us some kind of advantage."

"I've had Garcia run a list of associates, although from what I understand, He works alone." Morgan said. "I'll go and see how that's coming along."

Garcia had one name only. "He used to knock about with his cousins." She said, "But they..... erm..... got killed. The name is Simon Perry, and he has an address."

-0-0-0-

Emily, Morgan, Reid and Rossi went to the address. It was a very quiet little street with a few white painted clapboard houses. A wannabe high end, but not quite managing it. Number six was half way down the street on the right. Morgan and Reid took the back, Emily and Dave went to the front door.

Most people object to being dragged out of bed (metaphorically speaking) in the middle of the night, and Simon Perry was no exception.

"What the crap do you......"

"FBI Emily said, one hand holding up her ID, The other on her gun.

Mr. Perry spun round and ran to the back of the house. Emily and Dave didn't move.

As Perry flew through the back door he found himself looking down the barrel of Reid's gun.

"Mr. Simon Perry?" he said calmly. "We would like to ask you some questions."

-0-0-0-

"When was the last time you spoke to Mason Lowe?"

Perry was in the interrogation room, facing Rossi. Morgan stood by the door looking threatening without having to say anything.

"I'm saying nothing until my lawyer gets here."

"You are not under arrest, Mr. Perry. You are simply helping us with our enquiries. So, I'm sorry, no lawyer. Let's start again, shall we?" Dave smiled at him despite the urge to smack him. "Whe n did you last speak to Mason Lowe?"

Aaron watched through the mirror. This man was their only link. They had to get him to talk.

"Can't remember." Perry said. "He's my mate. I'm not about to rat him out."

"Ok, we can arrest you as an accessory to attempted murder, murder and kidnapping for starters."

Perry was on his feet leaning across the table. "Now wait a goddamned minute!"

Dave leaned back in his seat. Morgan got hold of Perry's shirt and sat him down again.

"Ok.......this is getting boring. Third try. When did you last speak to Mason Lowe?"

Perry looked scared now.

"Three days ago, Monday evening. He called me. Asked if I knew anyone who could mind his nephew for a day or two." He looked across at Rossi. "I don't know nothing about no murder or kidnapping. He said the kid was his nephew! I swear! Honest!"

"Honest? That'd be a first." Morgan mumbled.

Very nice, Derek!

"And did you know anyone?"

"My sister Marjorie Haden." He picked up the pencil and wrote an address down, and gave it to Dave.

"As a reward for your cooperation, we are going to allow you to spend the night free of charge in one of our exclusive apartments, and in the morning we'll have another chat about murder and kidnapping" Rossi glanced at Morgan. "Take him away!"

As soon as Perry had been hauled away, Dave took the address to the team.

"Dave and I will take this one." Hotch said. Dave agreed, and the two of them took the lift down to the garage.

"This could be it, Dave. I might be about to get my boy back."

"I hope so, Aaron."

-0-0-0-

It was a little house on a big corner plot in a nice part of town. Marjorie was a lot older than Perry, and came to the door with curlers and a scarf around her head. She was clearly not happy about being woken in the middle of the night, but she didn't try to run away.

"I am Agent Aaron Hotchner of the FBI, this is Agent David Rossi." Aaron said, leaning on the crutches. "We are looking for the child that we think you might be caring for. May we see him please?"

"He no here no more, man. His uncle came for him jus' two hours ago. I'm mighty sorry. He were a good boy."

"His uncle? Can you describe him please?" Aaron said, a sick feeling in his stomach.

"Short guy with a funny eye. You best ask my baby bro Simon. It's his mate."

"Did his uncle say where they were going?" Rossi asked.

"He surely did. Disney Land he say."

"Thank you, Mrs Haden. We will chat with Simon."

"Be sure an' tell him I sendin' you!" she called after them.

Hotch threw his crutches in the back of the car. "Our last lead. Dead."

"Not necessarily, Aaron. We know he's close. He was here only two hours ago." He looked at Hotch's tear filled eyes. "Shall I take you home? You really shouldn't be working this case."

"No. I won't abandon Jack." Hotch said. "Let's get back. I want to talk to Perry. He must know something."

Rossi nodded and started the car.