It was five minutes after the SWAT team had left Hotch´s house, three minutes since JJ had broken down on the couch next to Jessica and one minute after Rossi had inwardly declared their case as a lost one, when his phone rang.

They all jumped at the sound disrupting the women's quiet sniffling in the otherwise silent house.

Rossi was briefly confused as to who would call him on his work phone. After all, everyone who could or would was in this room with him. His heart skipped a beat as he saw the name on the display.

Aaron Hotchner.

For a moment he was so shocked that he didn't know how to react. He had expected Aaron to be halfway to Mexico by now, or cornered by their SWAT team at best –but he would never have expected to hear from his former friend again.

Before his fingers could betray him he answered the call, his knuckles white from where he clutched the phone too tightly.

"Aaron.", he said quietly. Not a question, a statement. Around him, the others seemed to have forgotten how to breathe, staring at him wide eyed, mouths agape.

Hotch´s voice sounded strained and spent under the fury that overlapped most of everything else: "You´ve made a mistake, Dave.", he growled: "Coming into my house, waiting to set me up…I had hoped more of our friendship."

"Well, Aaron, I had hoped for you not to turn out to be a serial killer but I didn't get that either.", Rossi replied casually, even though he felt anything but.

But no matter how he felt personally, he couldn´t let it get in the way of his job. He was a brilliant negotiator, and an even better profiler. He could manipulate anyone –including Aaron Hotchner. He just had to keep him talking.

"We just want to talk to you, Aaron.", he tried, reassuringly: "We know this is Foyet´s fault and we want to help you cope. But you have to come in for that first."

"I'm not an idiot, Dave."; Hotch sneered, clearly not convinced: "You have armed forces chasing me!"

Rossi hesitated, not sure how to react to someone who clearly wasn't up for a rational discussion. Before he could say anything though, Hotch continued harshly: "I know you think of me as just another UnSub now. But it doesn't matter if you understand my motives or not, you will still try to hunt me down and lock me up. But that's not going to happen because I am needed. There are just too many sinners out there. I'm the only one who can punish them properly. But I understand that I cannot do that here anymore due to our blinded system. So I will leave. But not without Jack."

Rossi took a deep breath, refusing to let the obvious disturbance in his friend´s mind get to him and trying to remain as calm as any negotiator would.

"Jack isn't here, Aaron.", he answered calmly only to be yelled at again. Hotch´s control seemed to be worn extremely thin –if he had any left.

"He was with Jessica and Jessica was with you!", Hotch yelled: "Don't lie to me, Dave. I want my son!"

"Aaron, you have to think.", Rossi tried to reason. He was only glad that they had transported Jack to a safe house so that at least he would be safe. Now all he had to do was try to save what was left of the Hotch he knew. And of Reid and Morgan -if there was in fact anything left to save.

"Even if I agreed that what you're doing is necessary and right.", he bartered: "Do you want to take Jack along and constantly put him at risk, being so close to criminals?"

Instead of making his colleague thoughtful his words only served to anger him further: "Don't tell me what I can and can´t do! I will protect him. Just like I always have."

Rossi bit his lip. Perhaps now would be a good time to pose the question that had been gnawing at him ever since he picked up the phone. He would risk setting Hotch off even more, but he had to know nonetheless.

"I wish I could believe that.", he replied slowly, carefully choosing his words: "But after what happened with Reid and Morgan…"

"What are you talking about?", Hotch interrupted him, clearly irritated, but in a good way, like he felt insulted by what Rossi was implying. There was a long pause in which Rossi held his breath, scared to even hope.

When Hotch spoke again he sounded seriously offended: "Nothing happened with them. I will let them leave once I'm safely away with Jack. Like I told you: I just want to protect the ones I care about."

As silently as he could, Rossi let out a sigh of relief, praying that he could believe Hotch in his condition. He sounded honest enough, but how often had they dealt with people who were honestly convinced they hadn't committed their crimes? Still, it was weak flicker of hope he chose to latch on to.

"So they're alive?", he asked breathlessly.

"Of course they are.", Hotch growled crossly, sounding his most sane ever since he had called: "Morgan is being a pain but he is busy now tending to Reid."

That brought back to mind the blood in Jack Mortinson´s living room and the old agent cringed. "What is his condition?"

"He needs to see a hospital soon.", Hotch actually seemed a bit worried at that, a paradox considering he had put Reid into that position in the first place. Yet, if he felt remorse, Rossi thought, it would give them an angle to work, to get him to give up.

"Then why don't you let him go to one, Aaron?", he asked, careful not to sound demanding: "I know you care too much about the kid to let anything else happen to him..."

"He´ll be fine.", Hotch cut him off gruffly, his calm already gone already: "He will see a doctor once I see Jack."

"You´re willing to put his life on the line to get what you want?". Rossi decided to make it a little clearer just what was on the line here. He didn't receive an answer.

Obviously, Aaron wasn't himself, even if it appeared so at times. Whichever part of him still cared, it wasn't strong enough to save their friends. They had to get Reid and Morgan out themselves.

"Aaron, be sensible."; he was almost pleading now, not knowing what else to try: "You have to think of yourself now before you can take care of Jack. You need to come in and let us help you. You won't be alone in this!"

There was more silence and for a moment Rossi dared to hope that he had broken through Hotch´s resolve. Then though, he could almost hear the man shake his head through the line.

"No.", he said, sounding almost desperate: "Jack won't lose another parent. I can't leave him."

Jack. It all came down to Jack.

He was what grounded Hotch, in fact the only thing still connecting him to his humanity. He couldn't get around that. But he could try to be a little harsher: "He will only lose you if the SWAT finds you before us. I know that a hospital isn't the most fun place for a kid to visit, but it's better than a graveyard!"

It was too much. It was the only thing he had had left to try but it pushed Hotch over the edge, alienation him instead of soften him up.

"You say that again when Morgan asks you why you did nothing to save Reid!", he hissed.

And with that he hung up, his enraged accusation the last sane thing Rossi would hear from him during their investigation.

The old profiler stood in his spot for a long moment, taking a much needed breath, judging himself, trying to see if he could have done more, gotten another outcome. What it came down to was that there was nothing to put up against insanity.

"He´s losing touch with reality completely now.", he then told the anxious women grimly: "Usually we would have some time in which he is still relatively sane, but with Jack´s loss there is no saying how deep he´s going to fall and if he´s going to snap out of it at all this time. We have no time to lose: We need to find Morgan and Reid."

That was all the incentive the remaining agents needed to storm out the door and not stop running until they had found what they were looking for.


Hotch hung up the phone, anger and apprehension boiling inside of him. Ever since he had learned that his former friends had set him up, that they had taken his son, he could not seem to come down. He could not concentrate on anything other than Jack and the need to get an outlet for the aggression building up inside of him. He needed…

"Aaron, he needs to know you weren't always so serious. Promise me."

"Daddy, where's mommy?"

He moaned softly, leaning against a wall when well known images and voices invaded his brain again, making him unable to see past them for a moment. It was happening again. He had barely been able to suppress it while on the phone and now it was getting even worse.

It was pulling him under much more quickly now, and while he would usually have welcomed the oblivion that always left him calm and focused in the end, he had nothing to focus it on now.

He had let his aggression out on a criminal only hours ago. It wasn't supposed to happen again this quickly. He needed time to think and find a way to save Jack…

"After I finish you I´ll find that bastard son of yours…"

Blood, so much blood.

His fist hit the stone wall with enough force to send a splintering pain through his bones. Hotch cursed under his breath, but felt grateful when he could see the hallway he was standing in again instead of the bloodstained one of his old house.

As he hurried down the hallway to the basement, it was all he could do to hold on to the pain in order not to let the darkness take over completely.

It worked well enough until he entered the basement, switched on the light and saw Derek Morgan staring at him out of bloodshot eyes. The irrational anger he had felt towards Rossi earlier returned full force without a second of warning. The Bureau, his colleagues, the people he had called friends had not only given up on him, they had taken his son from him.

He was vaguely aware that he was running into the room, yelling at Morgan while real images mixed with memories behind the red fog of his vision.

They would pay. Rossi, Morgan, everyone. For betraying him and their ideals. For not helping Reid when they could have. For stealing Jack…

He didn't know how he´d gotten there when he found himself right in front of Morgan who had jumped to his feet rather abruptly upon seeing him and backed as far away from Reid as the handcuffs would allow him to.

Haley´s body was lifeless on the floor, the mother of his child lost forever. Morgan was kneeling over her, shaking his head: "She´s dead, Hotch. She´s gone."

And suddenly he was Foyet, grinning up at him evilly: "And so is your son. How´s it feel to be completely alone, Agent Hotchner?"

And then he was beating him again, ceaselessly, mindlessly, knowing he wouldn't find relief but still unable to stop.

There was blood on his hands long before Foyet´s face turned back into that of Derek Morgan's. Only then did he hear the screams, too.


Reid had no idea how long he´d been out when he came to.

He remembered wanting to debate his point of view further with Morgan but sheer exhaustion had eventually won him over. He had been blissfully oblivious to his surroundings since then, only waking up briefly sometimes and finding that -thanks to Morgan's embrace - he wasn't freezing for the first time in what felt like forever.

It had felt good, safe, despite their situation and somehow numbed the pain and dizziness that were just getting worse with every minute he spent in this cellar. He wouldn't have minded just staying like that for a long time –just lie there in the safety of trusted arms far from and pain and fear.

Maybe that was why he had awoken so suddenly when the warmth surrounding him was abruptly gone; or maybe it was because of the ear shattering noise.

He jerked awake, very aware that he was lying alone on the cold concrete floor. Morgan was gone and the harsh light above was almost as blinding as the darkness before.

Panicking for a moment he looked around frantically, only to find that Morgan had gotten up and retreated to the very end of the pipe he was chained to. He was standing there opposite of a suddenly reappeared Hotch –or crouching by the wall to his feet, to be more accurate.

Only then did Reid´s mind put the yelling and crunching sounds into context. Hotch was beating him so fervently and brutally that it immediately brought back the image of Jack Mortinson´s death. Why wasn't Morgan defending himself, for Christ's sa- oh, God, because he was still tied up…

This time Reid´s panic was out of fear for nothing less than Morgan's life when he started screaming at Hotch to stop. Or croaked, to be more accurate, since his vocal chords wouldn't cooperate at first. He struggled to get up but found it even harder than just hours before; his whole body felt like it was made of lead. He was burning up with fever.

Right then though, Reid could have cared less about that. All he knew was that he couldn't bear to see Morgan meet Mortinson´s gruesome fate

"Stop it!", he tried again, louder this time, only to be ignored: Hotch!"

Neither agent acknowledged him, and Reid was beginning to wonder if Hotch could even hear him in his current state of delusion. Who knew what he was seeing right now. It certainly wasn't Morgan, otherwise he wouldn't be doing this. - Would he?

Reid gagged when he heard another snapping sound, immediately followed by Morgan's scream of agony.

"STOP! You're killing him!", he cried, cringing when he thought he heard another bone cracking. He was vaguely aware that he was crying again, but didn't bother trying to suppress it. Like it mattered now…

Morgan went down for good, only his left arm dangling in the air where it was held in place by the cuffs. His face was already swollen and bruising up, with blood smeared over it from a gash on his temple. He was in really bad shape, hardly even able to defend himself at all because of the way he was restrained.

And because he was more concerned about keeping Hotch away from Reid than himself, Reid realized. That's why he had moved away, to keep him safe. Reid thought he was going to be sick at the notion that Morgan could die and it would be his fault.

Hotch lifted his fist again, mumbling incoherent curses under his breath.

"STOP!", Reid screamed at the top of his lungs, making all three of them flinch.

His burning lungs made him immediately regret the action but Hotch finally did hesitate, turning around ever so slowly. His eyes flickered over Reid with an unidentifiable expression, one that could either be recognition or simply irritation.

"Please stop.", he gasped, desperate to keep his attention: "He didn't do anything to you! You have to remember who we are, Hotch, you have to remember who you are!" He practically begged, anxious to get it out while he was still conscious. Still he was trying to at least push himself up on his elbows to get his shoulders off the ground.

At his words, Hotch´s face scrunched up in anger: "I know who I am! You were supposed to be my friends, and now that I only have one thing left to live for you take that away from me too!"

He took an angry step towards Reid, but was immediately grabbed from behind by Morgan. "Reid didn't take Jack, and you know it! Come on, man, I don't think were done here!", he provoked him, trying to shift his attention.

Reid wouldn´t have any of it: "Morgan, stop it. I know what you're doing and I'm not going to let you." He turned to look up at Hotch who easily shrugged off Morgan's hands and now walked over to him hesitantly. He still looked suspicious but not nearly as livid as before. Maybe Morgan´s words had registered somehow…

Reid saw his chance and took it: "Please, you know how much it hurts to lose a loved one, please don't do that to me…" This got him a confused look from both agents but he didn't allow himself to waver now: "I mean this, Hotch, I can't lose Morgan. I love him just as much as you love Jack."

He refused to meet Morgan´s eyes when the man gasped for air, instead keeping them locked on Hotch´s expression.

"Jack.", Hotch repeated absentmindedly. His gaze became glassy as though he was looking through Reid all out of a sudden. Reid held his breath, praying his plan would work. Morgan was completely forgotten in his part of the basement.

"Oh, Jack…", Hotch gripped his head, his face contorting into a mask of pain and confusion. He was shaking his head with his eyes screwed shut tightly, as though he was trying to block out something only he could hear. Slowly, he sunk down the cellars wall…

"Please, I want him to believe in love. It's the most important thing."

"Jack.", he moaned again, caught up in his vivid memories.

His eyes shot open when cold fingers suddenly touched the back of his hand gingerly, as though they feared he would lash out. Reid was half lying on his side, beads of sweat on his forehead from the effort to crawl over to where Hotch was sitting.

Still, he bit back any noise that might betray his condition and laid all the emotion he could muster into his eyes. If that couldn't convince Hotch then nothing would.

"It´s alright.", he whispered softly, squeezing his boss´ hand: "Foyet is gone. It´s safe."

Hotch stared at him for a moment with glassy eyes, before he lifted a hand to carefully push Reid´s damp hair out of his face.

Light brown hair, sprinkled with drops of blood brushed his neck as he lifted Jack out of his desk. His hands were shaking so badly that he feared he would drop him.

"Daddy, what´s happened to you?"

"Jack…I´m so sorry…"

Gentle fingers were wrapped around his trembling ones in a gesture of comfort and reassurance; he looked down into soft, blue eyes.

Was it really safe? Could it be over? He wanted nothing more than to believe that…

"Don't be.", the boy said: "It's not too late yet. It can all end now. I'm perfectly fine; you don't have to avenge me. It´s all good…"

"No.", Hotch shook his head frightfully and his hand wrapped around Reid´s wrist so tightly that he winced: "No, it will never be safe, we can't stay, not unless I kill everyone who…"

"Alright.", Reid quickly cut in, appeasing: "You´re right. We can just leave here. Go somewhere safe and never have to think of all those horrible things again. Yes?"

"Yes.", Hotch nodded, immensely relieved and grateful when his frazzled brain made sense of those words. Yes, they could leave all this behind. He could still save Jack.

He cradled the boy in his arms carefully, finally feeling some of his tension and distraught disappear to be replaced by a soothing calm. No, it was not too late yet.

Reid moaned at the pain shooting through his body when Hotch shifted him into his arms, picking him up from the ground.

He heard Morgan gasp somewhere behind them when he realized what was happening.

Not that it mattered now. Morgan could scream all he wanted, Hotch would not focus on anything but Jack right now –and Reid would make sure it stayed that way until they were so far gone that Hotch would never reach Morgan again.

His head fell limply again Hotch´s shoulder as he let himself be carried to the door.

It didn't matter what happened to him, he was already as good as dead. This was the best outcome they could still hope for, and he was glad that at least Morgan would get out of this unharmed.

It stung a little when Derek screamed his name over and over: It was muffled by his own drowsiness and the rattling of the handcuffs as Morgan was trying to get free and run after them, but it still hurt to listen to his threats and pleas to both him and Hotch.

"Come back here, damn it! Reid, don't do this, it's insane! Reid! Hotch! Fucking let him go, you bastard! REID!"

"I'm sorry.", Reid murmured into Hotch´s shirt, too weak to even lift his head and take a last look at Morgan.

He wished he could, but it was likely better this way anyway. He should remember him with a smiling face, not one contorted in agony and horror.

"REID!"

But sorry he was nonetheless.

For so many things. For saying things he shouldn't have and for not saying things he should have. Now it was too late.