Chapter 5

"Good morning, one and all," Officer Thomas said brightly, jerking them all out of a sound sleep. "I see none of you even made it to the bunks last night, let alone your hotel."

Reid cracked open bleary eyes. "Too much to do. We were checking a new angle."

"And how did that turn out?"

"Dead end."

"Mm-hmm," Officer Thomas said, placing some large plastic containers on the table for them along with a bag holding paper plates, plastic silverware, and napkins. "I've brought you breakfast. You guys look like you could use a good meal."

The scent of scrambled eggs and bacon brought Morgan back from the dead, and both Emily and JJ raised their heads at the same time. Emily inhaled deeply and smiled. "What smells so good?"

"Breakfast," Reid said, rubbing his face in an attempt to wake himself up. "Officer Thomas brought it."

"From where?" JJ asked as Officer Thomas opened containers.

"My place. One of my hobbies is cooking, so I thought I'd give you guys a little TLC today. I also stopped by the best coffee house in town and got you guys some coffee with all the fixings, so dig in."

At the word coffee, Rossi was on his feet and heading for the "ambrosia of the gods," as he put it and a minute later he was helping himself to scrambled eggs with cheese, bacon, sausage links, home fries, and fruit salad. As soon as he took the first bite he leaned back in his chair with a smile. "Oh, wow. My ma would love you. Were a professional chef before you joined the force?"

Officer Thomas grinned. "I get that question all the time. No, I learned to cook so I could impress the ladies."

Emily took a bite of the eggs and grinned. "Consider me impressed."

"Impressed with what?" Garcia asked as she wandered in, clutching an empty coffee mug. "Oh, thank all things merciful, there's coffee!"

"Officer Thomas brought us breakfast," Reid said, breaking a strip of bacon apart into his eggs. "He made it himself."

Garcia helped herself to some coffee and once she was feeling a little more human she fixed herself a plate. One bite and she knew that Officer Thomas had missed his true calling. "Oh, my. I need this recipe."

"I'll get you a copy," Officer Thomas promised with a grin. Suddenly, he looked very pleased with himself, and Morgan sat up and watched closely.

"I don't want to put you through any trouble," Garcia said, a bit uncertain. Cops were busy guys, after all.

"No trouble at all."

Morgan cleared his throat and Officer Thomas made himself scarce, saying he had to check in with his partner. Everyone except Penelope watched him go with a knowing eye. The poor guy had it bad and he'd have a heck of a time with Morgan on the watch. Still, if he persevered, then anyone on the team could see that he was worth Penelope Garcia.

The smell of hot toast coated with warm apple butter and cinnamon brought Aaron out of a deep sleep. For the past few days Alexander had been bringing him meals in bed and he had to admit, it was kind of nice, in a weird, creepy sort of way. He opened his eyes and sat up just in time for Alexander to put another pillow behind his shoulders and smooth his blankets.

"Sleep well?" Alexander asked, his smile audible in his voice.

"It was that darned tea," Hotch said as Alexander put the breakfast tray across his knees. "You were right that it would help me sleep."

"Of course I was," Alexander told him, handing him a folded newspaper.

"What was in it?"

"Passiflora, chamomile, hops, lavender, and lemongrass, plus some honey for sweetness. I call it my 'sleep like a baby' tea."

The name was apt. "It worked. Since I slept so well last night and it's been a while since I coughed, is there any chance of my getting up today? I feel like a slug lying in bed all the time."

Alexander looked at him, studying his color. "After breakfast, I'll take a listen to you and then we'll see what's what, hmm?"

Hotch had to be content with that. Once Alexander had tucked him in after his aborted escape attempt, he got worse pretty quickly. Even with the cough medicine he'd worn himself out with coughing and he found it pretty difficult to stay awake for very long. Alexander had brought in a humidifier, gave him breathing treatments with a nebulizer, and checked him daily to make sure he was all right. Having coughing fit after coughing fit had scared the heck out of him and at one point he'd begged Alexander to take him to a hospital. "What if I'm so sick that there's nothing you can do?" he'd argued when Alexander told him a hospital wasn't necessary. "How do you know I'm all right and I don't need a hospital?"

"I have pretty extensive medical training, Aaron," Alexander told him. "In case you haven't worked it out for yourself already, that is, so you don't need to worry. If you ever reach the point where a hospital is necessary, I'll take you."

That hadn't been reassuring in the slightest, but Alexander had been right. A few days of misery and then he began to get better. Progress was slow, but at least it was progress. He began to spend more time awake, his appetite returned, and he began to spend more time sitting up. His goal now was to get up and walk around a bit. The sooner he was back on his feet, the sooner he could get the heck out of there.

Alexander had kept him to a schedule even while he'd been sick. In the morning, he would bring Aaron breakfast in bed, usually something light, tasty, and easy to eat. Afterward, Aaron would be given a half-hour in the bathroom to wash up and change clothes, and then he'd be back in bed, with clean sheets appearing on the bed every other day. He could watch the morning news, if he wanted, or page through a newspaper, and then he would watch a movie or a few episodes of a TV show. (Netflix and Hulu were incredible things, especially if you were at risk of boredom). Around late morning he started to get tired, so he would relax and play music until lunch, sometimes taking a little power nap. Alexander would bring him lunch (again, easy to eat and tasty) and after lunch, Alexander would sit with him and play a board or card game with him. They'd worked out a system that if Hotch answered ten personal questions about himself during the course of the game, then Alexander would take off a day. Five questions meant he'd have a half-day removed. So far, Hotch had answered fifty-five questions, which meant that he'd earned his release five and a half days sooner. The one condition was that Hotch couldn't volunteer information; he had to be answering one of Alexander's questions. Around the middle of the afternoon, Aaron would settle down for another rest, or Alexander would read to him until dinner. After dinner Aaron would watch television or page through a magazine or book, and then around nine-thirty Alexander would chat with him for about a half-hour and bring him a hot drink, and then it would be time for bed.

This had to be the strangest kidnapping and captivity in history. He'd been kidnapped by a man who waited on him hand and foot, took care of him the same way a father would care for his son, and spoiled him silly. Hotch was sure this case would make it into the textbooks, and in the indexes it would be found under the entry "Kidnapping, strange and weird." He only hoped being kidnapped wouldn't have a negative effect on his career. He was the team leader of the BAU and he should have been much harder to kidnap.

Alexander kept his promise to check Hotch over after breakfast and deemed him fit enough to get up for a little while provided he promise to lay down for an hour or so after lunch. Desperate to get out of bed for a while, Hotch promised willingly enough and spent the morning in the living room, reading a book and working on a crossword puzzle. He was trying to puzzle through a clue about a "little rascally pup" when Alexander appeared at the gate. "Aaron?"

"Hmm?"

"How would you like to have lunch with me this afternoon? If you sit down and share a meal with me, I'll take off a day."

Aaron thought about it. If he did, then he would be one day closer to getting back to Jack. "What are we having? And please don't say soup." He'd had soup of every description for lunch and dinner ever since he first got sick that it would be a very long time before he wanted it again.

Alexander threw his head back and laughed at that. "I guess after so many days eating it, you would be tired of soup by now. No, don't worry. I've made turkey tetrazzini, instead. How does that sound?"

Aaron's mouth watered. "That would be perfect."

Before long they were seated across from each other at the table. Alexander's half of it was in shadow and Hotch nearly freaked when Alexander reached up and pulled off the ski mask he wore around him to prevent Aaron from seeing his face. "I hope you're hungry, Aaron," Alexander told him, placing the mask on the table. "After being ill, you need your strength."

Aaron looked at the full plate in front of him. "It's not soup. Trust me, I'll be eating."

With that, they dug in, and Aaron had to just pause and marvel once he tasted the first bite of turkey tetrazzini. "Mmm. Oh, wow. This is incredible."

"I'm glad you like it," Alexander said, his voice quiet. "It's a recipe I haven't made in a while, so I wasn't sure if you'd enjoy it."

Aaron swallowed his present mouthful and smiled. "Don't worry. This is great. Any chance you'd share the recipe?

"Do you know what happened when Queen Victoria asked her chef for a recipe?"

Aaron shook his head. "No. What?"

"He said that a chef's secrets were sacrosanct."

Aaron nodded. "I see. Okay, I'll just have to guess what goes in it and wing it. I'm sure my son would love this."

Alexander chuckled, sounding like a fond uncle. "My son loved it, too, when he was small."

It was the first truly personal bit of information that Alexander had ever shared with him and for a moment he was floored. He couldn't believe it. This guy was a family man. That went against the profile for certain. "Any other children?"

"No. Just my son. Personality-wise, he's a lot like you."

Aaron couldn't tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing. "What's his name?"

A chuckle from the darkness. "That would be telling, Aaron. As for telling...tell me, what's the best book you ever read?"

That was the end of Alexander's sharing session and the start of Aaron's. He answered ten questions about his favorite book, his favorite pastimes, his favorite movies, and his favorite and least favorite subjects at school.

"The worst class I ever had was freshman history my first year of college. Every single lecture my professor spoke in monotone, and he spoke as if his own subject bored him. It was impossible to stay awake in that class and I'm still wondering how I passed it."

Alexander chuckled and refilled Hotch's water glass. "I'm sure he didn't bother grading the finals. Perhaps he just gave a B to everyone."

"It wouldn't surprise me. If I recall it correctly, I did get a B."

That made Alexander throw back his head and laugh. Such a change always startled Hotch more than he wanted to admit. One moment, he was a presence in the shadows, and the next, he was a jovial meal companion. The change was always unsettling. Alexander's laughter eased off but Hotch could still hear a smile in his voice. "You see?" He stopped and studied Hotch's empty plate. "Do you feel up for some dessert?"

Hotch's appetite clamored for something sweet. "What's for dessert?"

"Hot apple cobbler."

His mouth watered. "Oh, yes."

Alexander chuckled, donned his ski mask again, and fetched the cobbler. Hot apples, cinnamon and sugar, and crumb topping...ahh, comfort food. For one moment, Hotch was so taken up by the taste that he had to let out a happy, heartfelt sigh.

A soft, indulgent chuckle from Alexander brought him back from apple and cinnamon bliss. "For a second, it looked as if you wanted to climb into the cobbler and live there."

A mental image of himself building a house out of apples with crumb topping for a roof made him smile. "You know, I just might. It's very good."

That only made Alexander laugh more, and for a split second, for the briefest moment, Aaron felt as if he were sitting across from a friend who knew him as well as he knew himself. Not someone his own age but someone older and wiser. Someone who he could count on to understand him, almost like a father figure.

He didn't want to think how much that scared him.

Reid was deep in a map of Pacerton and its environs when a startled scream from Garcia's workstation sent all of them running at top speed for their analyst. Garcia came running toward them at top speed, her high heels clacking like a startled horse's hooves. "OH MY GOSH! You won't believe it! I don't believe it! It's incredible! My monitor-it's on my monitor!"

"What is it, baby girl?" Morgan demanded, shaken by Penelope's rapid fire speech. "Talk to us!"

Penelope took a deep breath. "I've got eyes on Hotch!"

A pause. Then, "WHAT?"

Garcia whirled and took off at top speed for her workstation. "Come and see!" She scurried back down the hallway and the rest of the team followed. Penelope dropped into her chair and wheeled up to keyboard and with two taps, she brought up a video feed. "You know how I was looking through the witness statements? It was Reid talking about the white vans owned by individuals that got me to think about it. All of the victims described being held in a place that looked like a warehouse, so I was checking all individuals that owned commercial property in Pacerton rather than companies..."

"That was good idea, Penelope," Rossi told her.

"Well, I haven't found anything yet, but I did have a program monitoring the dark web using different keywords that could help me find any connections between surveillance equipment, a warehouse, factory, what have you, as well as things like fencing and furniture-the guy would have to outfit the place, wouldn't he? I was hoping that if I did that I would come up with the name of our unsub, but it looks like the keywords led me to a chatroom. Looks like the unsub has had his video feed hacked and the recordings are being viewed and discussed by people. Look!"

They looked, and there was Hotch, sitting on a sofa and holding a newspaper. It looked like he was working on the crossword puzzle, and he was trying to solve a clue when a man in a ski mask approached the fencing and spoke to him. Hotch looked up, responded, and minutes later they were sitting down to a meal at the table.

"Just like the victims said," Rossi sighed. "The unsub liked to share meals with them and talk, and if they answered questions, then he would subtract some time."

"It's a powerful incentive," Emily added. "For Hotch, most definitely. Time taken off would mean it would be that much sooner he could get back to Jack."

They had called Hotch's sister-in-law Jessica as soon as they'd been able to and she'd agreed without being asked to keep Jack as long as needed. They hadn't needed to explain much. "Just bring him back alive and in one piece," she'd said. "Please. Jack deserves that."

The only answer they'd been able to give her was, Of course. They just didn't know when they'd be able to manage it.

Reid watched the feed for a moment, and then he noticed the clock on the wall in the video and he checked his watch. "Garcia, is this live?"

She checked. "Yep. We can keep an eye on Hotch every second, if we want."

Reid grabbed another chair and moved it in front of one of the spare monitors. "Can you bring up the feed so I can watch it from the beginning? Fast forward and rewind and all that?"

A few taps on the keyboard and the feed was up on the screen in front of Reid. "There."

The team was split for the next few hours as Reid watched the beginning of their boss's captivity. It showed the unsub carrying Hotch in a fireman's hold into the enclosure and laying him down on the bed. He removed the white cap and worker's smock and straightened Hotch's clothes before feeling his forehead. Hotch began to wake up then and the unsub started to undress Hotch.

"Oh, my God," JJ breathed, certain they were about to see something horrible.

Only they didn't. Once Hotch was stripped down to one layer the unsub turned Hotch onto his side, laid him in the recovery position, and tucked him in, smoothing his hair and holding his hand while he slept.

"Okay, now that's weird," Rossi said after a moment. "He looks like...well, I don't know. An indulgent father, almost, who's just tucked his tired kid into bed."

"The profile says he's not a family man, though," Derek reminded him.

"We might need to change the profile," Rossi stated. "Maybe he was at one time. Who knows? At any rate, he knows how to take care of someone else."

"He might have lost someone," Emily hypothesized. "And, to fill that void, he kidnaps a substitute."

"But why not just keep the first victim?" JJ asked.

"Maybe he needs to find the right one?" Derek said thoughtfully.

Garcia shuddered in her chair. "Please don't let it be Hotch." There was no way of knowing what his captor would do to keep him if Hotch was the one he felt he needed.

"Amen to that, baby girl," Derek breathed.

They scrolled through the footage of the quiet times in the enclosure, but they did watch as Hotch attempted to examine the cameras and his interactions with his kidnapper. They noticed right away when Hotch slowed down in his movements and ate less. They noticed him rub at his throat and chest. "Do you think Hotch could be sick?" Reid asked.

"I hope not," Rossi said.

A fit of coughing told them that it was a vain hope, and then Hotch reminded them just why he was so good at what he did when he took advantage of the unsub's distraction when he had a coughing fit. One moment, he was sitting on the couch coughing and the next he was fighting back. A second later he was out of the enclosure and heading for the nearest door and then a window, but then the unsub tackled him. "We should look for football players," Penelope said.

"Definitely," JJ said, watching the footage thoughtfully. "That was a perfect tackle. Someone in the NFL couldn't have done better."

They watched while the unsub entered the enclosure with a black doctor's bag and proceeded to give Hotch a medical exam, using a stethoscope to listen to his heart and chest.

"Well, that fits the profile," Morgan said, watching the footage. "One of the possibilities was 'doctor' or someone in the medical field."

"Wonder what else we got right?" Reid said, not looking away from the screen.

They watched as the unsub waited on Hotch hand and foot during his illness. He arranged the television in the bedroom for Hotch and provided him with books and tissues. Then he proceeded to bring cool drinks and meals on trays to Hotch several times a day. Hotch stayed in bed for the most part, leaving it only to wash and change clothes while the unsub replaced the bed linens every other day. Often the unsub would sit in the enclosure with Hotch and read to him, or sometimes they would just chat. Quickly they were up to speed with what was going on with Hotch-none of them had ever felt so close yet so far away from their boss. They knew him well enough to know what he was feeling, even when his expression didn't change, but they all had to admit it to themselves.

Hotch was afraid. Sometimes it was in the tilt of his head, in the quirk of his lips, the way he blinked, but they were all subtle signs that let them know he wasn't all right. None of them wanted to admit to themselves just how frightening that was.