A/N: This is for Eeltje who asked for something with the Leroys visiting Hotch at the hospital after "Route 66". I hope you (an everyone else) like it!

Leroy's entrance into the small hospital room was characteristically dramatic; Hotch had barely had time to register his presence before the man was at his bedside, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Je jure devant Dieu," he muttered, "if you do something like this again I will ground you for the rest of your life."

Hotch pulled away from him, raising his eyebrows. "You do realize I didn't develop internal bleeding on purpose?"

With an exaggerated shrug, Leroy straightened. "Foyet is dead so I can't kill him and I can't very well ground chance, so…"

"That doesn't really make any sense," Hotch retorted skeptically, not sure whether he should be laughing at the Frenchman or be worried that he was serious. Leroy shrugged again.

"I don't have to make sense."

"Also, he doesn't know how to make sense." It was Jo, speaking from the doorway with a tolerant smile at her husband. Completely ignoring the glare the gibe earned her, she turned to Hotch. "Hello, sweetie. How do you feel?"

"Relatively okay," Hotch replied honestly, knowing that a full 'okay' wouldn't be accepted, "Considering the circumstances."

Jo hummed in reply and joined her husband at Hotch's bedside, reaching for the chart hanging there at the same time as she distractedly patted Hotch's cheek. She read through it with a neutral expression before putting it back. "Everything looks fine here. How's the pain?"

"They insisted on giving me some painkillers," Hotch replied – not bothering to specify that it wasn't so much the doctors insisting as the knowledge that Rossi would inevitably find out that they insisted, "so it's fine."

"Good," Jo said, once again stroking his cheek, this time with her attention turned entirely on him, "And you're okay with Dave leaving for the case?"

Hotch nodded. "Of course. It's what I would have told him to do."

The couple fixed him with very similar considering looks, but soon seemed to come to the same conclusion; Leroy shrugged, and Jo ran a hand over Hotch's hair. "If you're sure. Do you know when they'll come home?"

"Pretty soon. Dave said he'd pick Jack up from school and then come here. He's excited to see you."

"Good. We have a gift for him. Jack, that is. Not Dave," Leroy clarified. Jo smiled and stroked his cheek.

"You have a gift for him too, though," she said, "and for you, Aaron."

"Just admit you've got gifts for everyone!" Rossi broke in from the doorway, Jack next to him holding his hand.

Leroy glared at Rossi opened his mouth, looking as if he would protest, but then closed it again, frowning. "I do, actually," he admitted reluctantly. Then he turned to Jack with a wide smile. "Bonjour, mon cher petit. How are you?"

Jack happily let the man sweep him up in a hug. "I'm fine, Uncle Alex. It's Dad who's hurt."

"School is going well?" Leroy asked, kissing Jack's cheek before he passed him on to his wife.

"Uh-huh. We're learning about the Stone Age."

"That sounds exciting," Jo said, she too kissing Jack and stroking his hair before she let him climb up on the bed next to Hotch.

"It is!" Jack agreed before he hugged Hotch, "Hi, Daddy."

"Hi, buddy," Hotch replied with the wide smile Jack always brought to his face, "So, did you hear that Uncle Alex and Aunt Jo have a gift for you?"

"Yes, that's right!" Leroy said happily, but then frowned as he looked around the room searchingly, "Where is it, chérie?"

Jo rolled her eyes and gestured toward the door. "In the bag. Where you put it."

"Oh. Yes." The man got up to retrieve the bag, pausing to exchange a hug with Rossi on the way, who took over the place at Hotch's bedside. After a quick kiss to Jo's cheek, he turned to Hotch.

"How're you feeling?" he asked, looking intently Hotch as if he was trying to see through any façade he might have put up and see what was going on inside of him.

"I'm fine," Hotch replied. No-one in the room made any move to correct him, probably mindful of Jack's presence.

"Good. I sent Garcia home, and the rest of the team will probably drop by tomorrow if you're up to it."

"Then they will get their presents then," Leroy announced, coming over to Jack with a book held out, "This is for you."

Jack eagerly accepted it. "Thank you!" he turned his attention to the cover, his young face scrunched up in concentration as he read the unfamiliar title. "The… the lion, the witch and the… wa- the wardrobe. The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe."

Leroy nodded. "It's the first book in a series," he said, reaching out to lightly touch Jack's cheek, "Well, the second really, but this one's the best to start with. I wanted to buy you all of them, but…" He trailed off, giving his wife a meaningful look.

"But buying seven books for someone you're not even sure will like them is ridiculous," she filled in, "You and your dad can read it and then let us know if you like it."

"And then I'll get the rest of them for you!" Leroy added happily.

Rossi scoffed. "And the movies, and memorabilia, and a trip to England, and a lion..."

"Are you implying I'm too indulgent?" Leroy demanded, eyebrows raised.

"No. I'm stating it explicitly. Admit it; if Jack or Dad over there asks you for something nicely, you can't say no."

"Yes, I can!" Leroy sounded indignant, glaring at Rossi who responded with a doubtful tilt of the head.

"Right," he said, and then continued with a French accent, "Oh, you like the Beatles, Aaron? Just let me read up on my necromancy and I'll arrange a private concert. Are you sure you don't want to own a kingdom? Or be president? What about just a state?"

Leroy interrupted him. "Should I take this to mean that you don't want your gift?"

"Depends on what it is," Rossi retorted. Leroy glared.

"You're not getting it," he announced after a beat, before he turned to Hotch, "We thought we'd stay for a while, spend some time with you while you're resting. And we can come and watch your soccer practice." He nodded to Jack.

"We have a match on Saturday!" the boy said happily, "You can come to that!"

"Of course we will," Jo said, running a hand over Jack's hair.

"We wouldn't miss it," Leroy supplied before he turned back to Hotch, "So how long are you going to take off work?"

Hotch shrugged, hiding a grimace as the movement caused a spike of pain to shoot through him. "Maybe a week."

"A week?" Rossi echoed, sounding incredulous. Hotch hesitated.

"Two weeks?" he tried, but when got nothing but three almost identical looks of disapproval and skepticism he amended himself with a small grimace, "Three?"

"Make it twenty-five days," Rossi said, "You and Jack could go visit Beth for a while. Or have her come here. Alex and Jo have only met her once."

"And we like her," Jo added, "Think about it, honey."

"As long as you take it easy, as well," Rossi said, crossing his arms and fixing Hotch with a look that contained a clear threat. Jack nodded from his place curled up next to Hotch.

"The doctor said you have to relax, Dad," he said seriously.

"I will," Hotch promised both of them, "We can read your new book. And maybe there'll be time for some paperwork, to take some work off you guys."

Rossi raised an eyebrow. "Yeeah… Not gonna happen."

Hotch hadn't really thought his ploy would work, so he didn't argue – in part also because he didn't want to do it in front of Jack – and turned to the Leroys. "Well, it's great to have you here," he said, "You must be hungry from the trip, though. Maybe you could take Jack down to the cafeteria to get something to eat?"

Leroy exchanged a quick glance with his wife before he nodded to Hotch with a smile, probably realizing that the words were just a thinly veiled excuse to get some time alone with Rossi. "We will. But not the cafeteria. I'm not drinking hospital coffee. Do you want me to bring something back to you?"

"He's not supposed to have either coffee or anything too heavy," Jo said sternly.

Putting an arm around her waist, Leroy pressed a kiss to his wife's temple. "I do love you, ma belle femme, but sometimes I don't like that you're a doctor."

"You don't like that I'm sensible, is what you mean. Jack sweetie, let's go. I want to hear more about the Stone Age."

Excited at the prospect of sharing his new knowledge – and confident that his uncle could take care of his dad – Jack jumped of the bed and hurried over to the couple, slipping his hand in Jo's hand as they left the room. "Bye, Daddy!"

Once the trio had closed the door behind them, Rossi turned to Hotch. "What's up?"

Drawing a deep breath, Hotch closed his eyes. "I'm not sure I want to talk about this, Dave, but I wanted to tell you."

"Okay," Rossi said slowly, "Tell me, and if you want we'll leave it at that."

Hotch nodded gratefully, swallowing. "When I was... out, I… I hallucinated."

Rossi frowned. "That's perfectly normal. You know that."

"Yeah, I know. It's not that. I… saw Haley."

"Okay."

"She said things to me," Hotch began and quickly continued when Rossi's eyebrows drew together and he opened his mouth, probably assuming that Hotch's subconscious had come up with bad things. "She said… she told me to be happy, more or less."

The older man's frown faded. "For once, I agree with her."

With a small smile, Hotch nodded. "I knew you'd say that. And… maybe you're right. I just… wanted to let you know. And also…" He hesitated for a moment, vaguely embarrassed about this part. "Well, I saw her in a movie theatre. And… you drove me there."

The soft smile on Rossi's face immediately drove away whatever suspicions Hotch may have had that the man would be freaked out by appearing in Hotch's subconscious. "It seems I've managed to get some things through your thick skull, then," he said, lightly running his knuckles over Hotch's cheek, "It's true, though – what it means – and not just a product of your subconscious. I'll take you anywhere you need to go to be happy."

"I know," Hotch said, completely honestly. Because he could believe that now, even if it had taken him fifteen years to realize it.

"Good," Rossi said, smiling at him as he distractedly adjusted Hotch's covers, "So, you wanna tell me more? I can do a Freudian dream analysis."

Scoffing at the offer – Hotch had heard Rossi do Freudian psychoanalyses before, on challenges from Gideon, and the older man was almost disturbingly good at finding innuendos in anything – Hotch shook his head. "No thank you. I really don't need a list of signs of my castration anxiety."

"Your call." Rossi shrugged, looking as if he was trying very hard not to smile. "But the offer to talk is open even without the analysis, you know."

"Yeah. I know. Maybe later. I… want to think about it a bit, first."

Rossi nodded. "Of course. Let me fill you in on the case, instead."

He did, quickly and efficiently recounting the facts, and when the Leroys and Jack returned twenty minutes later – with a Danish that Leroy must was enlisted Jack's help in convincing Jo to get Hotch – they had moved on to other, more pleasant, subjects.