Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds

A/N: Switching points of view here at the beginning, so you don't get to see Garcia and Hotch's conversation right away, but it's coming up! Hope I don't confuse you too terribly.

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Reid took a long, grateful drink from his coffee, the corners of his lips curling up as he swallowed the too-sweet drink. Sitting down at his desk, Reid relaxed for a moment, enjoying his coffee, before he set out to conquer the paperwork that was currently stacked on the corner of his desk. Morgan came over and leaned against his desk, folding his arms across his chest, and Reid smiled slightly, not bothering to look up at Morgan, since his universe currently revolved around the steaming mug in his hands. However, when Morgan didn't immediately greet him with some mildly teasing remark, Reid frowned, feeling something shift in the atmosphere. He glanced up reluctantly, and found Morgan's concerned gaze on him.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Reid asked suspiciously, clutching his cup of coffee tighter. He still hadn't forgotten the time Morgan and Garcia had tried to get him 'un-addicted' from caffeine after he'd missed a couple nights of sleep while on a case with the help of several cups of coffee.

"Because I'm worried about you, kid." Morgan's voice was low, and he shifted towards Reid, the frown on his face deepening. "Wanna tell me what happened to your lip?"

Reid stared at him blankly for a moment, but then laughed slightly, shaking his head. "Morgan, I ran into a tree." Reid turned back to his coffee, taking a drink, and was surprised when Morgan didn't walk away, giving him some warning to avoid trees.

"What was the trees name?" It sounded like a joke, but Morgan's voice was dead serious. Reid frowned, and grudgingly looked away from his coffee, frowning up at Morgan.

"I believe it was a Sycamore Maple, also known as Acer Pseudoplatanus."

"Same tree that punched Hotch in the face, right?"

"I-no…that was my fault…" Reid muttered, suddenly sounding guilty as he looked away, staring fixatedly at his coffee again.

"How is it your fault?" Morgan asked, incredulous. Reid took a slow drink of coffee, and then shook his head.

"I don't want to talk about it. You should probably get back to work."

"Reid, I'm not done talking to you. Somebody took a swing at you and Hotch, and I want to know who the bastard is so I can-"

"Morgan, stop it. I can't talk about it, so just drop it…please?" Reid looked up at Morgan now, his eyes pleading. Morgan took a deep breath in through his nose, tensing as a bitter look came over his face.

"Reid, you can't just let shit like this go on and not do anything about it."

"Hotch is doing something," Reid muttered, looking away as a pout settled onto his face. He slumped in his chair, biting his lips together for a moment before he continued. "Hotch isn't stupid, Morgan. He isn't going to make the same mistakes that I did."

Morgan's brow furrowed, and he leaned away from Reid, studying him intently. "What happened, kid?" he asked, his voice gentle. Reid just shook his head.

"It doesn't matter. Hotch is taking care of it."

Morgan squatted down so he was eye level with Reid, putting a hand on Reid's knee. "Come on, kid , talk to me."

"Nothing to talk about," Reid muttered, looking away. "Go back to work, Morgan. Please? I have work to do."

Morgan let out a slow sigh, and stood, turning away. He glanced over his shoulder. "If you ever need to talk, I'm here for you. You can talk to me anytime you need to."

Reid just nodded minutely and turned to his desk, pretending to focus on a file.

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Hotch stared at Garcia, an incredulous expression on his face. Did she just refer to a split lip and a bruised cheek as 'battle wounds'? Well, she was Garcia, which somehow gave her permission to label anything how she wanted to label it. He took a moment to think, and then answered her in a low, steady voice.

"Garcia, I'm not sure what you think, but there is no correlation between me, Reid, or his ex-boyfriend, so if that was all, I think you should be getting back to work."

This formal, carefully composed statement did not have the effect on Garcia he had desired. Instead, she gawked at him, seeming insulted by the comment. After staring at Hotch, indignant for a couple seconds, gaping at him, she set her lips determinedly.

"Sir, I may not be a brilliant profiler like you and the others, but I'm not stupid. Something's going on and I'm going to find out whether you like it or not, so you might as well tell me." She stopped to take a breath, before she continued. "And I know Reid didn't run into a tree, and I know it's more than a coincidence that you come in with a big o' bruise on your face on the same day, after asking me to look up an ex boyfriend, who just so happened to have a record." She ran out of breath and stopped, shaking her head. "Don't lie to me, Hotchie. What's going on?"

Hotch stared at her blankly, trying to think of what he could and couldn't tell her. He took a drink of water, looking away briefly before he answered.

"There was a confrontation, and it ended violently. But the situation has been resolved and there is no longer a problem."

Garcia's eyes narrowed dangerously. It was disturbing how she suddenly seemed very scary. "Hotch, don't skirt around the issue. What the hell is going on?"

Hotch took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. His headache was coming back. "Garcia, I told you as much as I'm allowed to. You have to realize it's not just about me here. I can't talk to you about this."

Garcia's eyes widened as if she had suddenly had an epiphany. "Oh…so I should talk to Reid?"

Hotch couldn't stop a look of horror from crossing his face briefly before he was able to mask it, but it was obvious she had seen it. "Garcia, I don't think that's such a good idea…I'm sure you understand why he wouldn't want to …talk about this at work."

Once again, realization dawned on her face. "Oh! Right. Of course, Sir."

"So you're going to leave him alone?" Hotch asked wearily. Garcia nodded.

"Yes, sir. I'll just go straight back to work."

"Thank you."

Garcia nodded once more and then turned and left Hotch's office, dutifully going back to her bunker. With a sigh of relief, Hotch slumped into his seat, putting his forehead in his hands.

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Getting the restraining order didn't take as long as they had thought it would, and they didn't even need to confront Sean. Soon, they were out the door, headed home.

As they made it back into Reid's apartment, after a quick stop at Hotch's house so he could pick up more clothes and some supplies, Reid slumped onto the couch, fatigue etched onto his face. Hotch slumped next to him, gathering the thin form into his arms, hugging him close. It seemed like a reoccurring theme, him simply trying to hold Reid together, hoping it would be enough. He hadn't been enough for Haley, and he was beginning to wonder if he could be enough to help Reid through everything. He was broken out of these thoughts by Reid's warm breath on his neck. When Reid's soft lips started pressing against random spots on his exposed skin, he hummed slightly.

"You okay?" Hotch asked softly. Reid shifted, so he was mostly curled in Hotch's lap, and continued to kiss his necks softly.

"Yeah…I'm okay. You have a headache." He paused, and then moved up, kissing Hotch's temple.

"It's going away."

"How can I make it better?" Reid was smiling slightly. Hotch smiled back, but just shook his head.

"What's gotten into you?" Hotch asked, a slight teasing note to his voice, but that didn't quite mask the serious tone.

"I want to make you feel better…" Reid murmured, pouting. Hotch ran his hands up and down Reid's back, soothingly.

"I do feel better, I-"

Hotch stopped as a knock came at the door. Reid frowned, and stood up slowly, but before he could go to the door, Hotch gently took his wrist, guiding him back onto the couch. Reid sat down, looking up at Hotch with wide-eyes. Hotch just stood and walked to the door, hand on his gun as he opened the door. Instead of Sean's tall, menacing frame, Hotch was greeted by a mass of blonde curly hair and frilly clothes.

"Garcia?"

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A/N: Short but I have an excuse. It's two. In the morning. Hope you like it though. Bleh, I don't. Tell me what you think.