Chapter 56

The following day had come too soon as far as Hotch was concerned. He had awakened early that morning while the day shift slowly began to take over from the night shift, and the quiet was slowly dissipating. But despite the change, Hotch still found the remaining quiet relaxing only because it let him reexamine what he had to do later. And rest was one thing he would not enjoy until dinnertime, if then.

A short time later, an aide entered the room carrying a breakfast tray. She sat it on the portable tray and moved it close to Hotch so he could reach it.

"Enjoy your breakfast, Agent Hotchner," she said with a bright smile as she left the room.

Hotch studied what was on his tray and grimaced. There was the old standbys…orange juice, a fruit cup, a small container of milk, a pad of butter, and a single wrapped slice of whole-wheat bread. There were also several small packets of sugar and a small Styrofoam cup from which he smelled coffee. Probably decaffeinated, he thought sadly. He then glanced at the covered item in the middle of the tray wondering what unwanted surprise awaited him under it. He let out a deep breath and raised the plastic lid to find a bowl of steaming hot Cream of Wheat. He rolled his eyes with frustration. What I wouldn't give for scrambled eggs with crisp bacon and toast with butter and jam along with a cup of strong, black regular coffee. He put the cover back over the Cream of Wheat and shoved it aside along with the milk. But he managed to open the fruit cup, and drink the orange juice. He then removed the lid from the Styrofoam cup and take a reluctant drink of the decaf coffee.

He really wasn't in a hurry to finish the coffee as a sponge bath awaited him, and he wasn't looking forward to that at all. And especially not by a man he was receiving bad vibes from for some unknown reason. He just wasn't ready for or want a strange man touching him without Rossi being there to keep an eye on things. Despite having come a long way, the one thing he was still unable to handle was being touched by a strange man when alone. But hopefully that would change in time. He took another drink of coffee, blanching at the taste.


His breakfast tray now removed, Hotch sat with the head of his bed elevated and not really paying attention to the news on the television. Without warning and out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the door being opened. His two bodyguards inside the room nodded at the male nurse and started to leave the room. But Hotch called out to them stopping them in their tracks.

Foyet, having pushed a cart bearing supplies for a sponge bath and shampoo, stopped and stared at the two guards then back at the agent.

"Agent Hotchner, you were told yesterday by Doctor Correa that I am to give you a sponge bath after breakfast. There didn't seem to be a problem with it at the time."

Hotch turned his famous glare onto the nurse. "I changed my mind and don't want it. And unless the rules have changed, I can refuse a sponge bath. And based on that, I refuse."

Foyet struggled to hide his disappointment from the man. He was so looking forward to touching the firm, toned body. But he also understood he had to be careful not to arouse the agent's or anybody else's suspicion.

"Agent Hotchner, I can sense your reluctance. Most patients are reluctant the first time. But I can assure you I will respect your privacy the entire time, and you need not be humiliated or embarrassed. Also, a sponge bath is a good way to keep your skin healthy, control body odor, and increase your comfort."

"I don't care," Hotch replied. "My answer is still no."

"Agent Hotchner…" Foyet said taking a closer step with the cart.

He froze when a hand touch his arm. He looked around to see one of the two agents standing guard staring at him intently. The other agent standing beside him also had an intense stare in his eyes.

"You heard the man," Agent Grossman stated firmly. "He said no."

Foyet looked at both men before looking at Hotch who was focused on the two agents interceding on his behalf with fascination.

"But I've got a job to do, agents," Foyet explained staring at the two agents in front of him.

"We understand that," Agent Thompson said. "But so do we, and our job is to protect Agent Hotchner. And if the man refuses to let you give him a sponge bath, then we suggest you tell the attending physician the patient refuses. Understand?"

Foyet stared first at the hand on his arm, then Hotchner, and again at Agents Grossman and Thompson. Disappointed, he nodded.

"Understood," he said with an unhappy expression he hopefully hid from them. He turned the cart around, and pushed it back toward the door which Thompson was holding open to allow Foyet to leave. Then he closed it behind him. Once Foyet was gone, both men looked at Hotch who had a small smile on his face.

"Thank you," Hotch said.

"You're welcome," replied Grossman. "May I speak freely, sir?"

"Of course."

"Sir, it may be none of our business. But I'm getting weird vibes off of that male nurse. It's like he was disappointed when you refused to allow him to give you a sponge bath."

Hotch looked at both men. "He was, wasn't he?"

It was at that moment that Hotch realized his feelings about this William Bayville weren't based on paranoia. It was more important than ever that Garcia help solve the mystery of the man.


It was about ten-forty-five when Hotch's phone rang. He right away grabbed the television remote and turned down the audio. He then picked up the receiver and put it to his ear.

"Hotchner."

"Oh, sir, they're so beautiful! Thank you!" said a bubbly and shaky voice on the other end. "I didn't expect this…I mean them. Thank you so much! Nobody's ever given me roses before, especially long stem red roses, or roses of any kind. In fact I've only received flowers once in my life, and that was from my dad for my sixteenth birthday, but never roses! I have no idea why you even had them sent to me. I mean, I didn't do anything to deserve getting them, but whatever I did to deserve them I will always be grateful. But that doesn't mean…what I'm trying to say is I don't want you to think that…"

An amused grin appeared on Hotch's face. It always pleased him to make his subordinates feel appreciated in a small way. Especially Garcia.

"Garcia, stop rambling. You deserve more than that for what you do for this team. You are solely responsible for the tremendous success this team has, and I'm so glad every day that you gave me your resume on homemade pink stationary. Also, since I was attacked, you have gone above and beyond the call of duty and I wanted you to know how much it's appreciated." Whimpers came through the phone.

"Oh, sir, that is so sweet. And every day I'm glad you are my boss. I can't ever see myself working for anybody else but you. You are the best boss I could have, ask for, or want. I just wish I could find this bastard Foyet and make him pay. I want him to bleed. I want him to suffer for what he's done to you. And let me add that I will not rest until I find his sorry ass!"

Hotch smiled as he listened to his tech analyst. He had never heard her swear before now. They had been talking nearly twenty minutes when, shortly after eleven a.m., somebody knocked on the door of Hotch's room. He watched Agent Thompson open the door.

Thompson saw a tall man somewhere in his forties with thick black hair with grayish streaks along the temples, and blue-gray eyes hidden behind glasses standing before him. He held a briefcase in one hand.

"I'm Simon Gould," the man announced in a friendly manner extending one hand to Thompson who shook it. "I have an appointment with an Agent…"

Hotch smiled. "Garcia, I have to go as I have a visitor."

"Who, sir? Is this person all right? Can they be trusted alone with you? Do I need to send an army over there?" Garcia started to panic.

"Relax, Garcia, he's an old friend from the prosecutor's office, and I asked him to come see me. And I trust him explicitly."

"Then I will let you go, sir. As long as it's safe to do so. And thank you again for the roses. I really love them! Call me if you need anything…and I mean anything! Garcia out."

"Thank you. Bye, Penelope." Hotch then hung up the phone and faced his friend. "Simon…" Hotch tried sitting up further and smile. But the smile came out as more of a grimace as his entire body was still sore. "C'mon in, please. The others aren't here yet but I expect them shortly."

Thompson stood aside and held open the door allowing the man to pass.

"Aaron…it's good to see you," Gould said holding out a hand to the injured agent with a smile. "I have to admit you don't look as bad as I imagined based on what I was told. How are you feeling?"

Hotch shook the man's hand. "So-so. Glad you could make it." He studied the two agents near the door. "Uh guys, could you give us a bit of privacy? Also, two of my team, Agents Morgan and Rossi, will be here any minute with a prisoner. When they arrive, please let them into the room."

"Understood, Agent Hotchner," said Thompson as he reached for the door handle. "Anything else?"

"Oh, and before I forget, my ex-sister-in-law is due to arrive as well. When she does, have her wait until I finish my meeting before she comes in to visit."

"Understood, sir." Thompson said as he and Grossman both left the room leaving Hotch and Gould alone. The lawyer sat in the chair.

As Hotch and Gould talked for nearly five minutes, another knock on the door interrupted them. The door opened, and in walked Morgan and Rossi, and between them was a sorrowful-looking Darryl Wheaton, hands cuffed in front of him. Wheaton was dressed in street clothes instead of prison garb. Hotch stared at him nervously. It had been the first time they had met since that night. The minute their eyes met, Wheaton quickly averted his eyes looking at a spot on the floor. He couldn't face his old college friend right now.

Rossi, Morgan, and Wheaton approached and stood beside the bed. Darryl still avoided looking at the injured agent.

"Take off his cuffs, Morgan," Hotch instructed. "He's not going anywhere, and he won't try anything."

Morgan was hesitant. "Hotch, I don't think that's…"

"I said you can remove them, Morgan. Please. I trust him."

Morgan was about to argue further when he saw Rossi's face. The older man shook his head no indicating he should not argue the matter further. He shrugged his shoulders before he took out the key to the cuffs from his pocket, and unlocked them. After removing them, he and Rossi backed away and leaned their backs against the wall near the door to give the men a semblance of privacy. But also to allow them to keep watch on their prisoner and Hotch at the same time.

Hotch swallowed the building lump in his throat and continued to stare at Wheaton. It was difficult to see the man who took part not only in putting him in the hospital, but was someone he knew well. "Darryl, look at me. Please."

"I…I can't, AM," Wheaton said still staring at the floor.

"Darryl, I need you to understand I'm not angry or disappointed. But I won't deny it hurt to have to admit to myself that you took part in this. So I will ask you for the last time. Please look at me."

Wheaton slowly raised his head and forced himself to stare into the dark eyes of the man who had been his best friend in college. His lower lip quivered.

"AM…Aaron…I am so, so sorry for my part in what happened. You'll never know how sorry." He wanted to say more but the words stuck in his throat, so he shut his mouth. Hotch was still studying him.

"I know you are. That is one reason I wanted you brought here. This is Prosecuting Attorney, Simon Gould. I asked him here because I'd like to work out an arrangement for lesser charges on your part if possible."

Wheaton breathed out through his mouth. "Aaron, I don't deserve any consideration especially from you. I deserve whatever I get."

A small smile appeared on Hotch's face. "Let me decide that. Now, if you will grab that chair in the corner and sit down, I believe we can get started."

Wheaton, spotting the wooden chair in the far corner, walked over to it, picked it up, and moved it over beside Gould's chair. He sat down beside the attorney and waited with both hands in his lap.

Gould, resting his briefcase on his lap, opened it, and removed a sheaf of prepared paperwork, and sat it on top of the briefcase.

"Before we begin, Aaron, let me say while I don't agree with your decision, I understand why you made it. That's all I have to say," said Gould.

"Understood," Aaron admitted. All that mattered was that he was satisfied with it and could live with it.

Morgan and Rossi were barely able to understand what the three men were discussing. But both men did hear a light rapping on the door. With a glance at the older man, Morgan cracked open the door to see Agent Grossman who whispered something to him. Morgan nodded and closed the door. Returning to his place beside Rossi, Morgan looked at his boss.

"Uh, excuse me, Hotch…"

The injured agent paused and looked at him with an arched eyebrow.

"I just want to let you know Jessica is outside whenever you're ready for her."

Hotch nodded his understanding before he returned to his conversation with Simon and Darryl. After about nearly ninety minutes, the discussion ended. Hotch smiled as the agreement had been signed by all the necessary parties. As Gould stored the agreement into his briefcase and locked it, Hotch stared at him.

"Simon, before you leave, I need to remind you again it's important that this agreement between us never see the light of day right now. Nor must it be spoken of in any shape, manner, or form until Foyet is behind bars. It's urgent that you adhere to my orders. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Gould stared into his friend's deep-set eyes. "I remember. Don't worry. And while I don't understand exactly why, Aaron, I'll do what you ask. I swear to you this agreement will stay hidden until Foyet is behind bars, and nobody will find out about it from me. You have my word."

"Thank you. I'll be in touch."

"Take care of yourself, Aaron. And I will wait for your call." That said, Gould smiled at Wheaton and left the room. Now alone with Hotch, Morgan, and Rossi, Darryl shifted in his seat. He still could not believe what Hotch had done.

"AM, I…I don't know what to say for what you've done for me after everything. I can't even think as to how I will be able to repay your generosity. But I am grateful for what you did. But I do have two questions. First, who is Foyet?"

Rossi cleared his throat causing the others to look at him so as to spare Hotch from answering. "Nathan Foyet is the man who is behind this mess," was all he said.

Darryl narrowed his eyes. "Foyet. Foyet. Why does that name sound familiar to me?"

"Because his late cousin was George Foyet aka the Reaper," admitted Morgan.

Wheaton's eyes widened as he stared at Hotch. "Oh my God! Aaron…."

Hotch waved his hand dismissing any further questions about Foyet. Darryl nodded.

"What's your other question?"

"Why did you do what you did for me? You shouldn't have been so generous. I don't think I could have been if it had been me."

Hotch let out a deep breath. "Darryl, you had no choice as Alana's life was on the line. We call it mutually assured destruction. What that means is that if Foyet went down, he'd take you down with him. And he would've killed your daughter. But you also saved my life. If Foyet hadn't believed you when you told him I was dead, he would have killed me himself. Also, you have done all you can to help my team find him, and anybody else who might be involved. You deserve consideration for that."

"But…but to have the charges against me reduced to time served with ten years' probation is too generous. I should be in jail."

Hotch grinned. "And you will. Don't forget, you need to stay there until Foyet has been caught. Once he is, that's when your time in prison ends, not before then, my friend."

Both Hotch and Wheaton heard the sound of a clearing throat behind them and looked. They both noticed Morgan shaking his head in displeasure. Hotch glared at his subordinate while Wheaton nodded he understood.

"I don't have to ask how you feel about this agreement," Wheaton said to the black agent. "I can tell by your face you don't agree."

Morgan shrugged. "Not my call," was all he answered glancing at his boss.

Darryl nodded and faced Hotch again. "AM, has your team found Alana yet? Is she alive?"

"We have found her and she is alive. In fact, she's here in this hospital." He held up a hand stopping any questions. "She's fine. The doctors decided to keep her last night for observation. But I understand she's going to be released today. What happens to her is another reason I wanted you here."

Wheaton had tears rolling down his cheeks hearing his daughter was alive. "Can…can I see her?"

"In a little while. First, I need to discuss something with you about your daughter."

Darryl began to panic. "I thought you said she was all right."

"She is. It's nothing bad. I needed to make several arrangements until I was able to resolve your situation."

"What arrangements?"

Hotch looked at Rossi. "Dave, can you bring Jessica in here, please."

Rossi nodded and left the room. He found Jessica Brooks sitting on a bench near Hotch's room. She glanced up when Rossi approached her.

"Dave, is Aaron all right? Who is that man I saw leave? What's going on that you haven't told me?"

"Aaron's fine. In fact, I need you to come with me. Aaron wants to see you."

Jess nodded then got to her feet. She followed Rossi into Hotch's room, smiled at Morgan, and smiled warmly at her ex-brother-in-law. But then her eyes landed on Daryl Wheaton. They lost their warmth and became cold.

Wheaton got to his feet and stared nervously at the woman with the curly blonde hair who glared at him.

Aaron noticed Jess's aloofness toward Darryl and understood it. "Darryl, I want you to meet my ex-sister-in-law, Jessica Brooks. Jess, please meet Darryl Wheaton, an old college friend of mine. He is also Alana's father."

"I know who he is," she said. She had been kept updated of Aaron's case by Rossi, and understood exactly who Darryl Wheaton was and his part in Aaron's assault.

"Hello," Wheaton said softly. It was obvious this woman didn't like him.

"Mr. Wheaton." Jessica's eyes now focused on Hotch. "Aaron, what's going on here?"

"Jess, I wanted you and Darryl to meet before we went to visit Alana."

"I don't understand, AM. You said you had to make several arrangements for Alana. Is your ex-sister-in-law one of those arrangements?"

"Yes and no. I tried to find somebody to care for your daughter should you be in prison for a long time. But your late wife's surviving sister and brother can't take her. And I didn't want her to end up in foster care as it's not the best solution either. So I spoke to my son about having Alana stay with us until I could resolve your situation. He is thrilled being an only child, and understands it's only for a short time. And since Jess looks after Jack when I'm not home, she will gladly look after both children no matter how long Alana stays with me."

Darryl wiped at his eyes and his lower lip trembled. "AM…Aaron…I…I don't know what to say. That is more than I dared hope for if I went away for a long time. I even considered giving up my parental rights so she would have a chance to find a good home." He then looked at Jessica.

"I understand why you don't like me, Miss Brooks, but I am forever grateful to you for your kindness. And please let me add as I told AM, I am so, so sorry for my part in what happened."

Jess's expression softened a little understanding this man loved his daughter as much as Aaron loved Jack.

"Mr. Wheaton, while I need time to forgive your part in what happened to Aaron, I do understand why you did what you did. And you are trying to make amends for things. That being said, your daughter still needs to feel loved and cared for as does any child. I am very happy to welcome her into my home and my nephew's life. I'll also show her all the love she deserves, and will continue to do so until you get out of prison. I promise you that."