When some of the horror had drained…or rather, when the effects of the painkiller had muffled it, Hotch found it easier to talk.
He still wanted Rossi to stay close. That was fine with Dave. He wanted to explore Aaron's mind and how Peter Lewis had interacted with it. He hoped to have something substantive to present to the others. He reasoned that, even if he couldn't solve the equation of the Unit Chief's damage, maybe Reid could process whatever information he gleaned and see some correlation that would help them.
Rossi held Hotch close; one arm across his shoulders, careful of the injured one.
"So now you remember a little of how Lewis worked? Now that we have two of the anchors he set in you?"
Aaron nodded. "It's hard to describe. It was like a disjointed journey through my life. Through the worst parts. I'm not sure of anything. Like a bad dream, I remember wanting to escape the pain of it, of him, of the…the worms in my brain. That was when he kept whispering 'I'm not going away.'" Hotch's eyes closed against the recollected agony. "It was like a curse. Like his promise it would never end."
Rossi rubbed the back of his friend's neck, wishing he could erase the experience with a touch…knowing he couldn't. "And you remembered that after you found out those words were the trigger. So…what about the color red? How could Lewis have known?"
"He didn't. I told him. God help me, I told him."
"He…he hypnotized you?"
Hotch gave his head an impatient shake. "I don't know. I think…I think he asked me questions. About pain. About fear. He wanted to know the worst I'd ever known." He turned, meeting Rossi's searching gaze. "I remembered it as though I were reliving it. And he was…I don't know…watching, I guess. I told him the worst parts of my life."
"You couldn't help it."
Rossi studied the younger man, wondering if he should let him rest, let him acclimate to this new knowledge of his time with the unsub…or push forward and tell him that, if Reid was right, there could be more remnants of pain and fear lurking deep, waiting their turn to pounce. Forewarned is forearmed.
"Aaron, listen to me…"
He related all that they suspected about the landmines that could be waiting to explode inside their Unit Chief. Dave was glad for the dampening effect of the medicine.
It let him tell himself that the distant, glassy horror reflected in Hotch's eyes was just the drug…was just transitory.
And that it would fade.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Peter Lewis was feeling sour.
He was realizing that destroying Agent Hotchner was no fun if he couldn't watch it happen. Well…that wasn't quite true. He enjoyed imagining the man's torture; the wretched misery in those deep, brown eyes. But it was like fun-once-removed. Like watching fireworks on TV instead of sitting beneath a dark sky and experiencing the flash and glitter of a thousand explosions.
Imagining wasn't immediate enough for Peter.
In fact, nothing was enough for Peter.
And another thing…his brain, by the very nature of its intellect, couldn't stop toying with the idea that there might be a way to make his situation more tolerable. It mulled things over at lightning speed, spewing out possibilities like coins from a slot machine.
One little coin began to shine with special promise. It caught Lewis's attention. He began to examine it, turning it over and over and over.
Maybe there was still a way to come out on top. Or at least satisfy his desire to see how his sad, little, pet FBI agent was doing.
Peter Lewis stretched out on his bunk and grinned.
The purchase from Welchel's Candy Emporium had been a maiden voyage when it came to discovering ways to use his phone. He'd accessed Craig's List and found an errand runner who'd followed his instructions. He'd been able to tap into his bank and transfer funds to the woman's account. He'd told her to withdraw some and pay cash for the gummy worms, leaving sweet, little Aaron's address for them to make the delivery.
He was sure there was no way it could be traced.
He was also sure they'd suspect he was behind it immediately. And that was half the fun.
I'm in control and you can't stop me.
Peter was sure that, given time, Agent Hotchner and his friends would be willing to do almost anything to get their leader back to normal. All he had to do was keep the pressure on until they realized what he already knew: the only one who could save sad, little Aaron, was the one who damaged him in the first place.
Lewis smiled. It was time to select another little treat from the agent's life-of-horror to bring roaring to the fore.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The night guard made his rounds, checking to be sure everyone was locked down and in bed.
Something flashed in the ambient light as he strolled past the cell containing Inmate #7962. Immediately suspicious, the guard clicked his flashlight on, training it on the prisoner.
Lewis was in bed, as he should be, but he was grinning widely…maniacally…from ear to ear. The glint that had caught the guard's eye was from the prisoner's wet, white teeth.
If possible, the man's lips stretched even wider as he saw the discomfiture on the guard's face.
Creep-boy. Pure and simple. Creepiest Creep-boy that ever creeped his way through here.
The guard shivered and continued on his way.
XXXXXXXXXXX
Rossi put Hotch to bed.
He sat by the younger man's side, wishing there were some brand of comfort that could ease him. It was dreadful to sit in silence, watching Aaron lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, knowing he was running over the same ground again and again.
He's trying to figure out what else Lewis used. He's reliving it all, but if he thinks of something, you can bet it won't be a trigger. He won't be able to identify them until they've been fired.
"Hotch, stop it. Don't do this to yourself. We'll figure it out somehow, but it won't happen with you torturing yourself. All that does is play into Lewis's hands even more."
"I can't stop thinking about it, Dave." Aaron turned his head the merest fraction, looking up into Rossi's eyes. "I don't know how to stop."
"Try." Dave cast about for anything that might help. "Think of the stories you used to read to Jack at bedtime. Tell me what kind of things he liked to hear."
Hotch's eyes drifted shut, but opened after a minute or two. At first, Rossi didn't understand the leaden sorrow in his friend's words. But then he did.
"There was a time when kings rode out to war…There was a once-upon-a-time when leaders led the charge and took the helm in battle." The BAU Unit Chief's eyes opened, blandly honest and disconcerting in their acceptance. "I'll never be able to do that again."
Dave's shoulders sagged. "You don't know that."
"Yes, I do. You'll never be able to know for sure that something won't set me off. You won't be able to trust me. You'd have to keep half your attention on me, when the case should take total focus. I know it. So do you."
Rossi didn't see the point in false bravado. There was too much truth in Hotch's assessment. "That's a possibility. But it's not time to throw in the towel yet. You've never been a quitter, Aaron. You're the first one to say that until you find a body, you will always believe that a victim's alive."
He rested a hand on Hotch's chest. "Give yourself the same benefit of the doubt that you'd give any other lost child."
Aaron's eyes filled, but they didn't overflow.
Rossi considered that a minor victory.
