Gaunt and hollow-eyed, Hotch was up before Rossi the next morning.

He wandered through the apartment, disconsolate; looking for something, but not knowing what. Myself. That's what. The person I was before Lewis re-made me.

Eventually, when he settled in his study, that train of thought began to disgust him. That's not me. That's an unsub telling me what to think, how to feel. I have to pull out of that.

He got as comfortable as his shoulder would allow in a huge, overstuffed wingchair, closed his eyes, and tried once more to review the horrors of his life. Chief among them was his ex-wife's death. But that's already been accounted for, right? Because it happened over the phone. And I can answer the phone now. He chose not to acknowledge the rise in heart rate and respiration that happened whenever the thing rang.

And seeing Reid shot, and being afraid of how much dying can hurt, of its inherent pain…that's already been covered. And…and… He swallowed sudden bile. …and how it was growing up under Dad's hand…. So, what else?

"Aaron, stop." Rossi's soft command from the doorway startled the younger man. "You can't see it. That's part of the deception and treachery that Lewis built into it. Just stop."

Dark eyes that were too strained, too large turned to Dave, pleading in their depths. "Maybe…maybe if you talked to me about some of the things that have happened? Maybe you'll hit on it?"

Rossi took a moment. Looking away, biting his bottom lip, he took a deep, steadying breath. "All that will do is make us both miserable. It's too hit-or-miss. And there might not be anything more to find, Aaron. We have to consider that, too."

Hotch leaned over, shielding his eyes with his good hand. "So what am I supposed to do?"

Rossi moved to his friend's side. "Heal. Take time. I think you're panicking a little because you can't control this. That's making it feel worse." He could see his words were cold comfort. And comfort's what he needs most right now. So a little lie won't hurt.

"Look at me Aaron." Dave lifted the man's chin, forcing eye contact. "The more time that passes, the weaker the triggers will grow. Every day you'll be a little bit farther back in control. So let yourself heal and trust in the passage of time to knit up all your injuries…emotional as well as physical." He managed a creditable smile. "It'll be okay. If you don't know that…I do."

Hotch searched the older man's eyes, wanting to believe…and maybe knowing it was a well-intentioned fib. He nodded. "Okay. Okay."

"Now, let's get some breakfast and get through the day. Maybe even find something to enjoy in it."

XXXXXXXXXX

Lewis did a test run.

He secreted his phone in the little fissure he'd hollowed out even a little more, making it deeper. Then, he daubed toothpaste over the opening, smoothing it with his index finger until it was flush with the surrounding wall. To his knowledgeable, seeking eyes, it seemed obvious. But when he retreated to the other side of the cell and turned, scanning the space as a whole…it was brilliantly hidden.

He waited a few hours, watching the paste dry. Tiny less-than-hairline cracks appeared, but they wouldn't draw anyone's attention unless the observer was looking for exactly that.

And who will ever be expecting toothpaste on a wall? The unsub's grin grew to Creep-boy proportions.

For the second stage of his experiment, he used the handle end of his toothbrush to poke through the dried paste. Some of it remained, making the second time he covered the opening even easier. Lewis's heart did a happy, little skip.

Who knew imprisonment could be so much fun? Peter rubbed crumbled bits of paste from the casing of his phone with his thumb, giving a self-satisfied nod. It's the challenge of it. I always did like a challenge.

Now, let's see if my errand-girl wants to make some more money…a little scratch

His high-pitched giggle at the beloved term lilted through the corridors.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"How come you're not at work, Dave?"

"The team's fine without me."

"You mean they knew I needed a babysitter.

"No…" Rossi gave Hotch a reprimanding look. "…they knew you needed a friend. And I won the coin toss."

Despite the grim, uncertain turn his life had taken, the Unit Chief's lips quirked upward at the corners. Not quite a smile. More like a tribute to one.

"I feel like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop, you know?"

The older man nodded, perusing the daily paper. "I think the waiting is what it's all about. That's the really cruel part of what Lewis did to you." He looked up from under his brows. "Don't give him the satisfaction. Here…" Deft fingers separated out a section of the news. "…read the sports section."

Aaron took the paper along with a deep breath. Sitting across from Dave at his kitchen table, lingering over the news and cups of coffee, he could almost make himself believe it was just another, normal, unremarkable, unthreatening day.

Rossi had decided 'business as usual' would be the best course to pursue in order to calm Hotch down. Dave though it was like a gentler, less focused version of desensitization. Reid made him behave normally and every time he behaved normally, like answering his phone…he was rewarded by nothing bad happening. He got stronger, more confident. Living a normal day is the best I can give him right now.

To that end, Rossi had helped Hotch dress, wincing in sympathy every time the man's shoulder was bumped or stressed. They'd had a nice, normal late breakfast. And now they were spending some nice, normal time with the afternoon newspaper. Later, Dave hoped for a nice, normal walk around the neighborhood; a nice, normal dinner; and a nice, normal evening of TV and companionable chat.

It was working, too. After a bit of muttering and grumbling, Hotch was actually immersed in sports scores.

When someone buzzed for admittance, each man's eyes shot to the other's…and locked.

Rossi saw the hesitancy in Hotch. He couldn't blame the man since the last visitor left a box of crazy for him. But use this the way Reid used phone calls. He'll see there's nothing to be afraid of. And that reminds me: I have to touch bases with Garcia…see if she found anything out about who ordered that box of crazy.

"It's alright, Aaron. Answer the door. I'm right here. Everything'll be alright."

Hotch gave a single nod as he rose, but Dave could see this was costing him. He's a rational man. He knows the fear inside him is baseless. This is the right way to go.

He watched Hotch go to the door, check through the peephole and…go shock-white. Rossi was on his feet and bounding to his friend's side in a flash.

Pushing Aaron aside, he looked through the tiny lens and saw a FedEx uniform holding a large cardboard box and looking a little impatient when he glanced at his watch and then stared pointedly at the eye he knew was observing him.

Rossi opened the door, looking none too friendly. "Yes?"

"You Aaron Hotchner?"

"Yes."

"Well, this is for you, express delivery. Sign here, please."

Dave took the stylus and signed the electronic pad. "Who's it from?"

"Uh…" The uniform made a show of reading the label on the box, a not-so-subtle way of telling Rossi he could figure it out himself. "Says Toys-R-Us."

"Right. I see that." The agent's voice had an edge. "Anything else you can tell me about it?"

FedEx guy shrugged. "I picked it up and was told it had to be here by four o'clock. That's all I know, man. Have a good one." He turned on his heel and strode down the hall toward the building's exit.

Rossi stared at the box the uniform had handed off to him.

He shook it. Something inside shifted and rustled. Rattled, even.

He stepped back and closed the door, turning to see Hotch, still pale, eyes fixed and dilated on the cardboard carton with the jolly logo emblazoned across it.

"I take it you didn't order anything for Jack?" The Unit Chief shook his head. Rossi nodded.

"Okay. Now, listen carefully, Aaron. I want you to go to your room and close the door. I'll take care of this. If it's a trigger item, Reid says it won't be as, uh, aggressive a reaction as that first one. So we can deal with it." He stepped closer, manually pushing Hotch's good shoulder until the man realized he was supposed to turn around and leave.

The look of pure misery he gave Dave before heading for his bedroom made the older man's heart ache. Whatever's in here, I will not let it beat you, Aaron!

Rossi heard the quiet snick of a door latching. He waited a moment to be sure.

Then, with savage fury, he tore into the box.