Chapter Twelve

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As flights went, Rossi was sure there had been more tense ones - the flight of the Enola Gay, for instance, or perhaps the one Reid had once told him about where three people flying near Lake Manitoba in 1927 simply decided to spontaneously jump out of their plane without parachutes for no discernible reason (maybe two of them had gotten into a brawl just before take-off, he considered) - but it was a little hard to believe at the moment.

To make matters worse, the only deal his publishers were even willing to entertain in return for bribing a news station to hold his and Reid's story was absolutely out of the question. "Damnit, Amanda!" he hissed, trying his best not to shout and spill the beans to everyone on the plane, "I don't know if he's going to be talking to me in six months, but I can sure as hell tell you he's not going to want to go on a book tour with me!" Caught up in his call, he didn't notice Morgan's approach until the younger man was nearly upon him. Holding the phone against his chest and covering it with his hand, he turned and asked, "I'm sorry, is privacy not a thing we do anymore?"

Morgan indignantly rounded on Hotch. "What the hell, man? You're putting us off of talking about Reid just so Rossi can talk to his publisher?"

"Morgan…" Hotch began, then sighed. Making his way towards them, he nodded for Morgan to go back to the front of the plane.

"Hotch, seriously, what's going on?"

"Please, Morgan. I need to talk to Dave alone for a few minutes."

Morgan reluctantly did as he was told, his eyes flicking back to focus on the huddled pair every few seconds. J.J. and Blake didn't bother to hide their curiosity either, both staring back at the two men with identical expressions of confusion and worry.

Hotch took a glance back to make sure the others were out of earshot, then asked, "How's it going?"

"Amanda thinks they can get the story delayed for now - the station that has the story is some kind of subsidiary of the same media conglomerate as they are - but the best offer they're willing to make in return is to give the station an exclusive."

"Wouldn't the news station basically have an exclusive now?"

"Sure, but if they wait on the story, then it will tie in nicely with the new book my publishers want me to write about the whole situation, plus give them a heart-warming father/son full length interview just before Christmas as Spencer and I launch our book tour and do the talk-show circuit to promote the damn thing!" Dave explained with biting bitterness.

"Dave…"

"Don't say it, Aaron."

"You know he's never going to agree to that. Not to mention I can hardly spare the both of you for some weeks-long book tour."

"Aaron…"

"Dave, it would be much quicker and cleaner to let it come out now."

"For who? Spencer is on his way to Vegas at this very moment to break the story to his mentally ill mother. Do you think he's in any state right now to have reporters accosting him outside her hospital? And God forbid any of those jackals ever get inside Bennington; what do you think that would do to Diana?"

"Dave, it won't be that bad. I hate to break it to you, but you're not that famous."

"So tell me, how many reporters do you think Spencer will find acceptable?"

Hotch raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, I concede that any questions right now are going to be too hard on Reid. Do what you've got to do. I'll try to work something out if a book tour can't be avoided. But only for you. Reid'll lose his mind if you try to force him on a talk-show."

"I sense a 'but' coming here."

"But we have to tell the team, Dave. Now."

"Aaron, I promised him! I said it was his call!"

"I know, and I've tried my best to accommodate the situation, but I can't in good conscience do that any longer. Not when it's beginning to affect your work."

"How has it affected my work? Yeah, I know I kind of blew up today - "

Hotch raised an eyebrow. "Kind of blew up?"

"But the case was done," Rossi continued on as if Hotch hadn't spoken. "So name one time on this last investigation - Hell, one time in the last two months! - when this has actually affected my ability to investigate a case!"

"What your situation is affecting is the team," Hotch argued back, keeping his voice to a whisper for now. "What happened today shows just how badly this may begin to impair our ability to function as a cohesive unit."

Dave was too honest, and too much of a realist, to deny what his unit chief was saying, but he also couldn't let himself break his word to Spencer. No matter what the kid had said at the airport, he cared. His son's trust had been broken a thousand different times during his life and Dave felt that if he went back on his word now it would always be an issue between them. "Give me two days, Aaron. Two lousy days."

"If you don't get the story stopped, it'll be coming out tomorrow."

"Fine, in that case we'll gather the team together tonight and I promise I'll tell them. Garcia should be with us anyway. But if I can get this stopped, give me a chance to talk to Spencer first. If we're going to tell the others, he should at least be told beforehand so that he knows what's going on." Hotch hesitated and Rossi grabbed his arm. "Two days, Aaron, or I swear to God I'll quit the Bureau the minute this plane lands. Screw it, you can strap a parachute to my back and shove me out over Kansas if you want, but I am not about to do this without giving Spencer some kind of warning."

Hotch finally nodded. "All right, but only on one condition: you smooth things out with Morgan before this plane lands."

"I will, I swear."

"Okay then," Hotch said as he stood up. "We tell the team tonight if you don't get the story stopped, otherwise we'll let them in on it in two days. Now, you'd better get back to your phone call."

"What? Oh, Christ, Amanda!"

"Dave, one last thing," Hotch said, bending close once more. "Have you told your parents yet? Or Carolyn's brothers?"

"Shit," Dave breathed out. "I always meant to call Russ back. And my folks… I don't even know where to begin with them."

A corner of Hotch's mouth quirked up. "Try, 'Congratulations, you're grandparents!' "

Dave grimaced. "Sure, no problem, and then I can follow up with, 'But your grandson doesn't want anything to do with us.' How well do you think that'll go over?"

Hotch placed a hand on Rossi's shoulder. "I've known Spencer Reid for ten years, Dave. He'll come round. There's no doubt in my mind about that."

Dave looked at his friend; Aaron Hotchner was not one for unthinking declarations of hope and faith in happy endings. But he also recalled several of the phone conversations he'd had with Spencer over the last few weeks, learning things he didn't think Aaron knew about. "Then let's hope you know him as well as you think you do," was all Dave said.

-x-

Dave spent nearly all of the rest of the flight home on the phone, arguing with what seemed like each and every employee at 'Gotfryd and Lattimore' (his publishers for the last twelve years), at one point not entirely certain he wasn't denigrating the parentage of some poor mailroom intern who was only there to fetch the coffee, but he did take a moment to ask Morgan if he could talk to him.

"Morgan…I am truly sorry for what happened this morning."

"Save it, Dave. I don't care what about happened this morning. Yeah, sometimes two guys get into it. It's dumb-ass stupid and regrettable, but it happens. What I do care about," Derek said, poking a finger into Rossi's chest, "Is what the hell is going on between you and Reid. And don't feed me some crap that it's nothing!"

Dave bristled, but then forced himself to calm down. Morgan and Reid had been friends for a decade; of course the man was going to be concerned. "Derek…" He paused, trying to figure out what to say. "You're right. It's not nothing. And I want to tell you about it, but I gave him my word that it was up to him when you found out and right now I think it's more important that I keep that promise. I don't want to let him down."

"And I'm just supposed to take your word for it that whatever the hell is going on isn't hurting him? Just sit back and wait and see, huh? Because I tell you, Rossi, I did that once before - "

"It's not like that," Dave interrupted, trying to reassure the other man.

"So you say."

"So I say."

Derek kept him locked in his gaze for several very long, very intense seconds before backing off slightly. "Yeah, well just keep in mind one thing: if you've done something to the Kid, make no mistake, I'm going to pound you into the ground, but trust me, it won't be me you'll have to worry about. There's three ladies on this team who make me look like a pussycat."

Dave almost panicked at the sudden vision of Blake, J. J. or - God forbid! - Garcia hunting him down in vengeance. "Morgan, honestly, everything I'm trying to do is in hopes of keeping Reid from getting hurt."

"Man, I hope for your sake that's true, that's all I can say."

-x-

Many arduous hours later, Rossi's cell phone was lying out in the back yard on the grass (hurled in a fit of supreme irritation), he'd sacrificed a good part of his negotiating power for his next contract renewal and very nearly lost his agent, and his liquor cabinet was severely depleted, but when Hotch dropped by to find out how it had gone, he was able to say that it was done.

"Give me the particulars of done," Aaron demanded as he sat down at Rossi's kitchen table.

"The story will be delayed six months. The trip through talk show Hell will be endured by me alone and will be contingent, of course, on how the story ends. The media is populated by cold, heartless bastards, but you can get through their thick skulls with business acumen at least."

"Meaning what?"

"That even they know that a my-long-lost-kid-came-back-to-me story is a downer right before Christmas if the kid doesn't actually come back, and that that, in turn, suppresses sales."

"Lovely. But what guarantee do you like have that whoever at Hughes, McCauley and Broadbent leaked the story isn't going to go to another news outlet?"

"Carrot and stick. Carrot: he gets an extra bonus if he waits because the timing will supposedly generate bigger tv ratings and more book sales, which means more profit for everyone. Stick: he tries to leak this again and he'll get his legal ass kicked from here to Doomsday. Not only from Hughes's law firm, but now from the network he originally sold the story to as well, because he signed over the exclusive rights to them. Personally, I thought he should have been strung up anyway, but my desperation to hide the story gave him a little bargaining chip. That and the deal to keep the Bureau out of it as much as possible."

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," Dave said, handing him a cup of coffee. "Anyway, as to the book itself, that too depends on how things work out."

"They don't seriously expect you and Reid to sort things out, then for you to write an entire book by Christmas?"

"No, they finally saw sense there. Getting it printed alone could take longer than that. Though they did make noises about an e-book… Anyway, what they're demanding for now is a series of articles. Maybe a blog. God, and Twitter! Can you believe they seriously want me to update random strangers on 'the ups and downs of my heartfelt reunion with my son' every freaking minute of the day? 'My kid will never meet his mother' hash tag 'heartbroken'. Jesus."

"I take it you refused?"

"What do you think?" Dave asked.

"Right, silly question."

The two men sat in silence for awhile, each dreading what had to be dealt with next.

"So how do you want to tell the team?" Hotch asked finally.

"Aaron…"

"Can I infer it from your tone just now that you're wanting to back out?"

"What do you want me to say? It's complicated."

"Dave, you gave me your word."

"Yeah, well I also gave it to Spencer, didn't I? And I made him his promise first."

And he's more important now, was what wasn't said, but it hung there between the two men just the same.

"Dave, I'm afraid I have to insist. If you don't tell them, I will, but they must know."

"What if I quit? Seriously, Aaron, I'm not saying this as a threat, but what if I handed my badge and sidearm over to you right now?"

"You'd really do that?"

"I would."

Hotch thought about it. "I'd tell the team anyway."

"You're kidding me?" Dave shouted, leaping to his feet, his chair skidding back behind him. "How would it be your - or the team's - business any longer if I'm not part of the Bureau?"

"Rossi, get yourself under control," Hotch ordered.

Dave slammed his hands down on the table. "No, explain this to me! Tell me what goddamned business my personal life is of yours if I'm no longer on the team?"

"Because Reid still would be and his state of mind is very important. Distracted like he is, he's a danger to himself and others."

"Bullshit! One case of not letting Morgan push him around and suddenly he's a danger?"

Hotch got to his own feet and squared off against Rossi. "And the rest of the team will now be distracted as well! Do you think they don't care? Do you think they're not going to worry about Reid, and about you, every damn minute until they're sure you're both all right? In the state they're in now, I'm not sure I want any of us in the field!"

"Do you really feel like that, or is this just guilt for the last secret you kept that nearly blew the team apart?"

"Where's this coming from, Dave? You tried digging up the past at the airport too, so tell me, is Emily's death a belated show of support for your new son or are you so intent on getting me to handle things your way that you'll hit me with whatever weapon is nearest to hand?"

Rossi pulled back a bit. "You think I don't feel my own anger over what happened?"

"Do you? Because at the time you seemed to be content to leave Reid hanging out to dry as the one being emotional and childish."

Dave shook his head. "Aaron, you son of a"

"Took you awhile, didn't it?" Hotch asked, more calm now. "You figured out that Emily wasn't dead, so you didn't get hit with the same shock as the others, but you must have felt something at being lied to for so long."

Dave didn't say anything.

"You know, I knew you were starting to get mad when you yelled at J.J. over the dessert at your cooking lesson."

"She was getting pissy. I know she was feeling guilty and I feel bad for her because I think her time away at State was worse than we even know now, but so what if the kid was picking at his food? He still showed up, didn't he? He still willingly sat down at a table with people he was none too fond of at the moment. So maybe she could have cut him some slack and accepted that he was there at all, instead of trying to withhold dessert from him until he ate his meal like she would for Henry."

"So you shouted at her and told her that this was your house and he was your guest and if he wanted some goddamned cake he could have some."

"Was I wrong? Hell, that kind of manipulative condescension is considered abuse in some circles. And it was my house."

"Maybe, but it did put a damper on the rest of the night. And he was sulking."

"Oh, for Christ's sake, Aaron, he wasn't eating because he hates Italian food!"

"What?"

Rossi shot Hotch an exasperated look. "I have no idea how I'm going to tell my folks that, but it's true. Think about it. Whenever the team has gone to Cargnelli's or Estella's, have you ever seen him order an entrée? No, he fills up on salad and garlic bread. Now ask yourself if you've ever seen him eat a salad anywhere else? Ever?"

"Look, we're getting off topic," Aaron said.

"Right, the topic was secrets and how you were fine with keeping one but now seem hell-bent on not keeping another."

"What about you? You're mad at me for one, but think keeping yours is perfectly all right."

"Because mine doesn't involve causing four people seven months of grief! And if it were up to me, it wouldn't be a secret at all. I'd have been shouting it from the rooftops for the last two months if I wasn't so worried about scaring the kid off for good. But I told him it was his decision and goddamnit, that kid is going to be able to trust at least one person on this team if it kills me."

"What do you mean?"

"You made it clear we couldn't talk about it at the office, but you didn't stop him from confiding in anyone after hours, did you? But what do you want to bet he hasn't told anyone about this, not even Blake who seems to be his confidant of choice lately?

"Maybe… maybe, Aaron, this team has never healed as completely as we wanted to believe."

Hotch sat down again and regarded his friend sadly. "Is that why you're suddenly so mad about something that happened three years ago? Because you blame me for eroding Reid's ability to trust, and believe that's why he's afraid to get close to you?"

Dave pulled his chair over and sat back at the table. "Aaron, we've known each other, what? Seventeen years?"

"Roughly that, yes."

"I could sit here and argue with you all night why I think how you handled Emily's situation was… well, let's say misguided. I think the first mistake was hers, but you, and then the team as a whole compounded it. Through our actions, Emily, ourselves and especially that little boy she was trying to save, might have been put in more danger rather than less - Senator Cramer may have been a pompous asshole, but he was right about one thing at least: we should have called Baltimore PD or the Harbour Patrol.

"However, I accept that your decisions were made out of concern and love. But no, the team hasn't healed completely. And yes, I do wonder if that rift is causing Spencer to have a harder time trusting me, and I hate that, but I know that our problems can't really be put down to that." Dave looked pointedly across the table at his closest friend, "But if your telling the team creates a problem between my son and I, then you and I have a problem, Aaron. One that I don't think can be easily fixed."

Hotch's expression was unreadable. Stoic bastard, Dave thought.

"So you're saying the choice is between telling the team and keeping your friendship. Is that it?"

"Pretty much."

Hotch rose to his feet. "You have your two days, Dave. Talk to Reid. But the team is going to be told. If this team can't work together, not only do I put all of our lives in added danger, I also take the risk that we'll be slower to stop the next Unsub, and that is a risk I simply will not take."

With that, Hotch left, leaving Dave alone in his kitchen to worry about the future.

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Sorry for the long wait. I had such a lot of trouble with this chapter. (Maybe I'm too eager to jump ahead and get to the... well, I won't spoil it for you.) Anyway, my thanks again to all of my loyal readers!

P.S. - That thing about the plane flying near Lake Manitoba actually happened.