Dave was slowly losing his mind, mindlessly staring at his 60 inch flat-screen with the remote balancing in his hand as he flipped between the US Open on ESPN and Dateline. He'd almost pegged the unsub before the host cut to a commercial. He flipped back to Serena as she volleyed the serve from her sister. He used to use the cable network as a replacement for Cinemax After Midnight, but according to the doctors he wouldn't be getting lucky anytime soon.

No scotch, no smoking and no steak. If you wanted to get technical he wasn't allowed a morsel of red meat of any kind. In short, a life without sex, fine liquor and exotic cigars wasn't a life he was sure he wanted to live.

Holed up in the lower half of his home because God knows he couldn't climb the stairs. Well, he probably could he just didn't want to.

This wasn't living - just like profiling Dateline on TV wasn't catching serial killers.

He couldn't survive like this. Rage embroiled him and he threw the remote across the room. Sending it against the wall behind the TV.

"Shut up, Mudgie!" he bellowed as the dog yapped intermittently between howls at his master's outburst.

Dave moved slowly into the kitchen, opening the cabinets he forged. Searching desperately for something that would dull the hunger whether it was real or imagined. A bag of Veggie-Straws met his hand and he shoved it into the deep recesses of the cupboard. Where the hell did his potato chips go?

That afternoon, Penelope busted in his living room like a colorful whirlwind. Loaded with an armful of groceries and a dog leash, she took charge. With barely a look in his direction, she'd unpacked the food, then walked Mudgie before disappearing in a flash of color after a quick hug and declaration that she "just couldn't talk to him, but she was happy he was okay." It was odd to say the least.

What was even more confusing, were the things she purchased: all vegan, all green, and all of it would make it in the trash at some point. Although the bag of trail mix didn't look disgusting. He ripped it open and munched. If he was being honest with himself, he was bored and a little lonely. He should have invited Penelope to stay.

He plucked his cell phone off the coffee table weighing his options. He could call Erin, but according to Hotch, he would be lucky if she so much as looked him in the eye in the next lifetime. On impulse, he dialed Hotch.

"I know we didn't catch a case," Hotch grumbled. The team was on stand-down. Between Hotch's healing ear drums and Dave's heart attack, it would be a minor miracle if the whole team was ever allowed back in the field.

"Look, I...Aaron," Dave couldn't stop himself from tripping over his words, "I know it's late, but I gotta know."

"Do you know what time it is?" Hotch growled and glanced at the alarm clock beside his bed.

Dave pulled his phone back on reflex and glanced at the screen. 2 am. Awesome, he thought bitterly. He was reverse cycling from his two weeks in the hospital. "I'll cut to the point."

"What do you need?" Hotch asked in a clipped tone.

"Was Erin...was she there at all?" He couldn't stomp the fear from his tone, and deep down inside he was afraid of the answer.

"She was," Aaron confirmed with a nod, although his friend couldn't see it. "She was there the first night."

"And why is Garcia upset?"

Aaron shrugged in the darkness before replying, "She doesn't like secrets."

"Did I do something?" A genuine confusion swept over him. Garcia was upset and Erin was mad at him for some reason, but for the life of him he couldn't connect the dots.

"Dave," Aaron hedged, feeling pity for him. He wanted to bring comfort but he wasn't sure if early in the morning was the best time. "She knew it was the drugs talking," he told his mentor; "but I can't say I blame her."

"So? What did I say?" Dave couldn't wrap his head around what he heard. When he thought of his time in the hospital the only thing he could remember was when the sedation ended completely and he woke up in a cold, empty room.

Alone.

"Basically?" Hotch broke him out of his thoughts.

"Don't mince words."

"You told her to fuck off and get out."

"Great," he said hollowly. He scrubbed one hand over his face. "I'm the ass-hole now."

"No," Hotch said gently, "she knew better, but she stayed away because she thought it would be better for you. She checked up on you every day. Now stop feeling sorry for yourself, light a few candles and thank God that you still have your job."

Dave nodded, scratching Mudgie's head absently. "Thanks Hotch."

"Any time. Get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay…." Dave's brows knitted in frustration. He couldn't drive. He could barely get out of bed without wanting to fall back in it.

"Did you forget about your rehab appointment?"

Dave heard the smile in his voice, "Yeah, I did."

"She separated us," Penelope growled low in her throat and tossed another chew toy into the bag she was putting together for Mudgie. "The more I think about it, Derek, the more it bothers me. Strauss took J.J. away and made us all think Emily was dead. How could he still like her?"

They were in the living room of her colorful apartment after she walked Mudgie earlier. She noticed how few toys the poor pooch had. He seemed so bored, moping around the house with his master, and Penelope knew that when the eighty pound chocolate Lab was overly bored, trouble awaited.

"Baby Girl, purple with rage is not a good color on you," Derek tried to soothe with humour, "

"My color wheel is the least of my worries, Chocolate Thunder." She bit her lip, holding back her thoughts.

"What's on your mind?" he asked softly. Setting his tool belt on the carpet, he tested her new bedroom door. A sliding silver screen with mirrors on both sides; he slid it back and forth and took pride as it glided smoothly on the tracks.

"I just don't get it, Derek. Strauss broke the rules and what if it had been one of us?" Her chin jutted stubbornly.

"Huh?"

"You will never convince me that she wouldn't throw us out of the unit so fast your head would spin!" Penelope raged. "I just can't stand a hypocrite! Why isn't she with Rossi now? Do you know how much food he had Derek? Real food that wasn't going to clog his arteries? I'll tell you how much: None!"

"Yeah." Derek pulled her to her feet and wrapped her in a hug. "But he's not starving now, is he?"

"No. But that was her job and her responsibility to take care of it and she didn't," Penelope groused, but she was feeling slightly calm.

"I know, but there's not much we can do. It's his life, Baby Girl."

A few beats of silence passed and Penelope tried to find serenity in the feeling of Derek's heart beating against hers'.

"Penelope?" Derek questioned. He pulled back slowly as the question he wanted to ask fully formed in his head. His hands were wrapped around her shoulders. "You were really nice to Strauss. Super nice."

"So what? I'm nice to stray animals and serial killers, too," she replied glibly. "What's your point?"

"That you're not fake, Baby Girl," he said complimented.

She giggled and said, "Just my hair color, eyelashes, nails and skin tone...sometimes."

"Exactly." He nodded once, "so what changed? Are there personal feelings here?" His eyes pinned her to the spot, not to mention his hands that held her shoulders in a gentle grasp. Her gaze scanned the floor, the cream colored carpet had her full attention.

"How can he trust her? I mean, after everything she's done to our team, our family….I just don't understand."

"Well, I hope it's the same way I trust you." He pulled her back into a hug and whispered, "Ms. World Hacker Bad-ass Extraordinaire."

She giggled. "I guess it does make perfect sense that the ex-criminal would reject the boss."

"Have you heard from Agent Hotchner?" Erin asked. Clutching her cell phone against her ear. Another look at the ticking clock and the time it took the other woman to respond told Erin all she needed to know.

"They made it to his appointment. Hotch says Dave's doing really well," J.J. confirmed gently, equal parts happy and relieved to be able to bring good news.

Erin leaned back, the rustling of the thin paper underneath her echoed in the empty room. This wasn't Mary's regular office. Her doctor was running shifts at the perinatal center and insisted Erin meet with her for her routine exam.

"That's great news," she said softly. True gratitude rushed through her, as she thanked whoever for letting Dave live and for his friend, J.J., who seemed to understand their awkward situation. "Thank you for keeping me in the loop."

"It's no problem, Chief."

"This feels like passing notes in high-school," Erin admitted. "I just…" she let the sentence trail off.

"You don't know what to say," J.J. supplied basing from her own experiences dealing with awkward moments.

Erin chuckled, "not a word." She rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. "I know he didn't mean it, for all I know he wasn't talking to me at all; but the look in his eyes, I swear to God I can't forget it."

"Can you forgive it?"

"I could."

"I have to make a pit-stop." Hotch pulled his rental car into the parking lot of the perinatal center. It was in the same complex as the cardiac unit. "Jessica got a job."

"Good for her," Dave praised without real feeling. All he wanted to do was fall back into bed.

"She's a receptionist, and shift change is in 20 minutes." Hotch opened his door and stepped out. When Dave didn't move, Hotch shot him a pointed look. "You're coming too."

"Just give me a minute, I don't have time for this," Dave grumbled under his breath.

.

"You do," Hotch countered and unfolded his umbrella. "I'm not letting you go home and sulk."

"Who says I'm sulking?"

Hotch pinned him with a glare. "I know you. You're too busy feeling guilty because you acted like a dick. You're at home, alone, looking for anything to drown your sorrows in, but you're out of scotch and smokes, so you've resorted to junk food and bad TV. Now snap out of it and move your ass!" he ordered in an authoritative tone that left no room for argument.

Then he took off in a sprint, giving his lazy, overweight, heartbroken buddy no choice but to follow him across the parking lot, or get soaked.

Sleet pelted the cars, and rolled down their backs. Thunder rolled across the steely sky. Cardiac rehab was kicking his ass, but the good news was he could finally take a flight of stairs without crippling exhaustion.

"It's water weight, prick!" Dave fired back angrily at not being given the chance to defend himself.

"Change your diet, change your life," Hotch deadpanned and closed his umbrella.

"What the hell, Hotch? Isn't there some moral code against showing off your sister in a cute uniform?" Dave grouched. Sweat broke along the nape of his neck as his poor heart, which he was sure had been overworked, pounded in his chest.

"So, you admit she's cute?" Hotch couldn't resist needling him.

"Shut up," Dave grouched.

Hotch grinned, a rate boyish grin lit his features. "Oh. I'm so gonna tell her!"

"Shut up, stupid; I'm taken," Dave countered as they ambled up to Jessica's station.

Hotch dropped his cheeky grin and said, "Yeah, I know."

"Hey, Aaron. What's up, Dave?"

Something in her voice set him on edge. Dave smiled slightly. Feeling trapped, he turned on Hotch. "What's going on?"

Jessica passed Hotch a slip of paper. "Just do what you're told," she said sweetly.

"What's she talking about?" Dave asked as Hotch steered him down the hallway. Passed rows of closed door exam rooms.

"Just come on."

Coming to the end of the hall they paused at the last door and Hotch knocked twice. Hotch turned the handle and shoved his friend between the shoulders, forcing him forward.

Dave's heart stalled in his chest. "Hi Erin."

For he who has health has hope; and he who has hope, has everything.
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