I don't own CM or any of its characters although I wish I did!
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Chapter 20
VIRGINIA.
Sean stood in the doorway separating the living room and kitchen, watching an infuriated Aaron throw a pillow at him from his sitting position on the couch.
"Sean, I'm telling you that I'm fine! You need to get back to New York soon or you beanbag won't have a restaurant to worry car about!"
Gritting his teeth, the younger Hotchner picked up the pillow and put it on a chair out of harm's way.
"Quit upsetting yourself Aaron. You're obviously NOT fine and I'm not leaving here until I'm satisfied that you can look after yourself."
Hotch's eyes flashed with anger. "I am more than pencil able to look after myself! I'm not an invalid!"
Sean was rapidly losing what patience he had left. "You know what, bro, you're right. You're not an invalid. But three 'Hotchisms' in a matter of seconds is not filling me with a great deal of confidence about your recovery!"
He knew he was playing dirty. Mentioning Aaron's nonsense words was unfair. But his brother had been irritable all morning for no apparent reason and Sean decided that he couldn't be allowed to get away with it indefinitely. But he instantly regretted his words. Hotch looked like he'd been punched. His entire demeanour changed. His body sagged and his eyes dropped. He became silent and lay back on the couch, his temper deflated but his spirit defeated.
'Dammit!' thought Sean and moved to sit on the coffee table, within reach of the prone form.
"Aaron, I'm sorry... that wasn't fair..."
Hotch regarded his brother for a moment then shut his eyes. "You don't need to apologize for telling the truth." he said wearily. He turned his head away. "Now if you don't mind, I guess I need to... aaarrrggghh!"
And with the exclamation came the second burst of pain. Moaning in agony, he put one hand up to his left temple and with the other, reached blindly for the bottle of pills on the table. Wordlessly Sean opened the bottle and pushed a couple tablets into his brother's hand. Then he got up and closed the curtains before pushing aside the pillow and sitting in the chair to keep watch; there was nothing else he could do and he felt helpless. Mercifully, the attacks were coming less often and were shorter, but were almost as severe as they'd been in Kansas.
It took a good twenty minutes for Hotch to be able to think clearly again.
"I'm sorry Sean..." he whispered at length, hands still pressed to his head and over his eyes.
"Forget it. It's not your fault. I'm sorry I wound you up."
"It's okay, I asked for it."
They continued to sit silently in the dark.
"Sean..?"
"Mmm?"
"What am I going to do...?!!"
Sean frowned. He could hear the panic in the whispered words and it wasn't like his brother to ask for advice.
"You're going to get well and go back to the BAU." He stated firmly.
Hotch removed the hand from over his eyes and squinted at his sibling through the darkness.
"You really believe that?" he asked suspiciously.
Sean realized that he did.
"Yes." he replied sincerely. "For God's sake, you survived a plane crash and a coma. You aren't going to let an extra word here and there ruin the career you've worked so damned hard at, are you?"
He considered the question rhetorical so he didn't wait for an answer and continued.
"Aaron, you're the strongest man I've ever met; too fucking strong sometimes. You are going to get better! You've already made huge progress. Your slurring is gone and the only time I still hear a 'Hotchism' is when you're tired... or really pissed off."
He looked over at his brother. The older Hotchner looked unconvinced; he'd lost his confidence. Sean knew he needed to help Aaron find it again.
"Look I know I don't tell you enough, but I'm proud of you. You're a great dad and brother and by all accounts, a helluva profiler... none of these occupations requires perfect speech and yours is 85% flawless AND improving all the time."
He hesitated before adding softly:
"Bro, it could have been way worse..."
Hotch closed his eyes. His head still pounded. He was weaker than he'd like to admit. His temper was still volatile. His speech wasn't perfect. But he had the most important thing. He had his life.
"Sean..?"
"Mmm?"
"Thanks little brother."
***
Jack giggled as his dad tickled him under his arms.
"Stop it daddy!" he squealed.
Hotch decided that his head might not take too many more high pitched tones so he obliged, pulling his son into a hug.
"I love you buddy." He murmured into the boy's blond hair.
Jack looked up at him and smiled. "I love you too, daddy."
"What do you want to do before lunchtime?" Hotch asked releasing the youngster.
By way of an answer, Jack walked over to the small knapsack he'd dropped by the door and pulled out a book.
"Can you read to me? Pleeeeease?" he asked, putting the book on his father's lap and clambering back up onto the couch. He wriggled under one of Hotch's arms and looked up expectantly.
Hotch sighed. Reading to Jack had always been one of his favourite things. However, although he was no longer self-conscious of his 'Hotchisms' around Sean or his team, he wanted to set a good example to his son and wasn't sure his speech was ready for that challenge.
"Jack, maybe you should get Uncle Sean to read to you..."
The young Hotchner furrowed his brow in a perfect imitation of his dad. "But I want YOU to read it. And Uncle Sean says that you have to keep practicing so that you can get all better and go back to work."
Fortunately for 'Uncle Sean', he was busy making lunch and so avoided the impact of Hotch's glare towards the kitchen door.
"Did he now..." the agent muttered.
But then he sighed again and opened the book.
"I might add a word by mistake..." Hotch began but Jack simply shrugged.
"I don't care daddy. I just like how you tell stories."
Hotch smiled gratefully and hugged his son again.
"Ok, then let's get started." and he began, "'Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Jack...'"
***
Hotch had made it through the entire book without any unintentional additions, lunch had been eaten and father and son sent upstairs for a nap when the doorbell rang. Sean put down his bottle of beer, muted the TV and opened the door.
"Agents." He greeted Rossi and Morgan. "Aaron's just resting but he should be up in a half hour or so... You're welcome to wait; I'm just watching the game."
"Thanks." Derek stepped in followed by Dave.
"Sorry for showing up unannounced." Rossi said, settling in the chair. "We thought we'd just missed nap time and we didn't want to give Hotch the chance to refuse visitors."
"Jack's presence has been working wonders in that department." supplied Sean heading into the kitchen to retrieve more beer. "Aaron's depression seems to be gone and he's more determined than ever to get back to normal, thank god.
"As for your timing..." Sean grinned, handing out the bottles. "Usually it would have been perfect but Jack had Aaron reading to him so lunch was a little delayed."
Dave was pleasantly surprised. "Hey, that's fantastic! How did it go?"
"Jack loved it and I didn't hear any slip-ups from the narrator. I think my brother enjoyed himself too, although of course he won't admit to it."
"Of course not." agreed Morgan. "How's his temper?"
"Getting there slowly. Overall, he's doing okay: speech, temper and headaches all improving. I think that the 3-week target for returning to the BAU will work out perfectly."
"That's great news!" Rossi said enthusiastically. "We need our Unit Chief back."
Derek looked at Dave and laughed. "You just want someone else to deal with Strauss."
"That too." Dave smiled.
"Say, you guys ever catch that creep you had to leave Kansas for? Aaron hasn't said anything..." Sean inquired.
Morgan frowned and ran a hand over his bald head. "No and man, I gotta tell you, it's frustrating to know he's still out there."
Sean looked confused. "But... you're not working?"
Rossi sighed. "There haven't been any more killings; the unsub seems to be in a cooling off period."
"So you just give up?"
"No, but since it's been over a month we handed the file back to the local police. If the killer strikes again or a new lead arises, we're sure to be invited back to help." Dave took a swig of beer. "We've also sent the profile nation-wide since such long periods can mean that the unsub has relocated."
"Or died?" Sean suggested hopefully.
"Yep, or died... or been in an accident. Garcia's been keeping track of the police reports and our suspect list was updated and circulated too. Again, follow up is reliant upon the local law enforcement."
"And Agent Gideon?" asked Sean, a slight edge to his voice.
Dave glanced uneasily at Derek. "He went back to his cabin."
A dark shadow passed across Sean's face but he said nothing.
"And in the meantime, we move on to other cases." finished Morgan, steering conversation away from the retired agent. He pointed at the TV. "Now how about un-muting the ball game?"
The three men chatted pleasantly about the recent poor form of the basketball team and the success of Sean's restaurant. The chef was halfway through a description of the perfect tuna salad recipe for Morgan when Hotch appeared on the stairs, moving somewhat gingerly.
"Hotch!" Rossi called out in greeting.
"Moving like an old man, bro." Sean teased, giving up his spot on the couch.
Aaron nodded his thanks and sat down. "Feel like an old man. Seems like I'm always stiff when I first wake up these days."
"Good nap?" Derek asked, noting his boss still looked tired.
Hotch shook his head in disgust. "Not really. The doctors weren't wrong flower about the insomnia; they recommended a non-habit-forming drug but I've had enough pills to last me a lifetime."
"The man is as stubborn as ever." Sean rolled his eyes. He then excused himself to go and see to Jack and left the FBI members to talk in peace.
Aaron turned to his colleagues. "So what's going on at the BAU?"
Rossi shrugged. "Just the usual. I'm trying to procrastinate with as much of the paperwork as possible..." he remarked casually.
Hotch smiled slightly. "Gee thanks, Dave."
They all grinned then Hotch became serious.
"I need a favour, please." He said.
"Uh oh..." Morgan said slowly.
"Don't worry, it's nothing much. I'm just going crazy sitting around here all day. Jack is in school most of the time and Sean is trying to run his business over the phone. I need something to stimulate my brain and marble I was thinking you could bring over some files... I could help you with-"
"Absolutely not, Aaron!" intoned Rossi, who had noticed the 'Hotchisms'. "You're on sick-leave, remember? You're supposed to be recuperating, not stressing yourself with deadlines and bureaucracy."
"But..." Hotch protested.
"Forget it, man." Morgan backed up the current Unit Chief. "We want you back fresh and healed. No way are we going to do anything to jeopardize your recovery."
Hotch was silent for a moment then "What about files from old cases?" He tried. "No deadlines, no stress and I could do with refreshing my skills..."
Dave looked over at Derek. The two shook their heads in amusement then Rossi sighed.
"Okay, you've got us there. I can't see any harm in that proposal."
"How about the one you've just put on the back burner..?"
"Ho-otch..." Rossi said with a warning tone. "Don't push it."
The injured agent tried to look innocent. "Come on Dave, I'll give it a fresh pair of eyes."
After more debate, Rossi finally relented and promised to drop the folder off on his way home from the BAU that evening.
***
Next morning, once Sean had left to run some errands and to drop Jack off at school, Hotch spread the contents of the folder over the coffee table. He had already read through the case twice and was prepared to start making some notes of his own. He tried to take things sequentially and build the profile as his team must have done. The agent was hoping to come up with something similar, proving to himself he could still do the job.
An hour later, Hotch stretched his arms, put down his pen and took a break to get some coffee. He was feeling quite good about things. So far, his profile matched that of the BAU. He would go through the last murder once more, looking for something the others may have missed or perhaps a different way of interpreting things. He doubted he would find anything new. After all, his team was the best in the business, as was Gideon.
Thinking of Gideon prompted Hotch to realize that he had yet to open the envelope that Rossi had left with him in Kansas. He got up and pulled it down from the mantelpiece where he'd hidden it behind the opened 'get well' cards.
Hotch was still trying to figure out his feelings towards Gideon. He understood all too well the effects this job had on even the most seasoned agents, and Jason had already experienced a nervous breakdown prior to his girlfriend's murder.
'Who am I to judge a man by how he responded to such a personal tragedy?' he asked himself. 'Would I do any better if something happened to Jack because of me, because of what I do?'
And yet Hotch had believed that he and Gideon were close enough colleagues for him to warrant at least a good-bye. It had been SSA Hotchner after all, that Jason had called with news that Frank was back and had killed his lady. It had been Hotch who had covered for Gideon and put his own job on the line by bringing in the team in order to clear his friend's name. He certainly didn't expect or desire any thanks, but a simple phone call would have been nice.
Hotch sighed and tore open the envelope. He wondered how the team had reacted to Gideon's sudden appearance, Reid especially. Aaron bore no resentment towards the younger agent for the fact that he had been the sole beneficiary of correspondence from Jason; he was actually relieved. He knew that Spencer had looked up to Gideon so to be treated as all the others would have been devastating.
'I hope Rossi or Morgan kept an eye on Reid during this case.' Hotch thought unfolding the piece of paper.
Pausing before reading the letter, he recalled his relationship with Jason. They had worked well together and Aaron had learned a good deal from the older man. But the manner of his departure had, at the time, both angered and saddened Hotch. He sighed again.
He had buried these feelings long ago; there was no point in staying angry. However, Hotch couldn't deny that there was definitely some residual hurt and disappointment. Why else was had he not opened the letter prior to now? He read the note. It was typical Gideon. A veiled apology of sorts with little detail; it seemed like the ex-agent was still trying to find the explanations he had left to seek.
'A shame.'
Gideon had expressed his joy that Aaron had survived the plane crash and his confidence that his old friend would have the strength to make a full recovery. He had praised Hotch's leadership at the BAU; said it was very apparent his influence had made the team better.
What was missing was any mention of Jason's departure or lack of contact since. Nor was there any apology or explanation given for Gideon's absence in Kansas or for his return to his cabin without visiting his old colleague.
Hotch shook his head. He found that he was more saddened than angry. He was aware that he shut off his emotions from the team the majority of the time. But he hoped that he would never become like Gideon who seemed, for the most part, to have shut himself off from the world.
***