Chapter 2
Reid didn't know what was going on with Hotch.
To start at the beginning, the team had flown to a city in Nevada to help with a triple-murder, committed by a man who'd had a psychotic break when his teenage daughter died. Ultimately it had been Prentiss pointing out that even the girls were late teens to young adults and beautiful, there was no sexual assault, which had led to the break in the case; he wasn't interested in them sexually, he was caught up in half-revenge, half-reverence. Killing these girls preserved them, made them so they'd never lose their hair or grow old or weak or ill due to a terminal disease like the Unsub's own daughter had. This reverence wrapped up in a haze of fury that these girls had been allowed to live while his daughter had been taken away from him.
There was this one local detective, Handel, who'd been hitting on Reid but Hotch had… intervened. He'd pulled him into an office and then, sort of, just… Reid didn't know how to describe it. Pushed him against a desk and given him a hickey. Well, several. And they would last a lot longer than a few days. Hotch had been rough. His eyes had been dark and stormy, like black clouds moving within his pupil. Something *definitely* moving. When Reid had been hurt, he'd stopped. He'd even kissed him three times. Reid had counted.
It had come out of nowhere.
When the triple-murderer had gone for Reid when they'd confronted him in his house, Hotch had attacked the man. With his bare hands. It was sort of reminiscent of Foyett in a weird way. Morgan had shouted, confused and shocked by his superior agent's actions. Hotch had seemed to have forgotten that he had a gun, or hell, than Reid had a gun.
But Hotch had tackled the man and proceeded to hit him. The man was in hospital, as the irony of fate would have it, the same hospital his daughter had slowly declined in. He was in a coma. Brain trauma. Brought on by Hotch's fists.
It was scary. Hotch could be brutal when he wanted to be; violence backed by incredible strength alongside years of training. Flesh, bone and muscle as dangerous as any other weapon.
They'd been walking as a group through the local airstrip to the jet, ready to leave Nevada and return to Washington. Hotch was a little distance behind, but Reid could feel the weight of his gaze on his back.
"What was that?" Prentiss whispered to the group.
"Something must have triggered him," JJ pointed out.
"Guys," said Reid disapprovingly.
"Maybe it's because the young girls looked like a young Haley? About the same age that they'd met?" Morgan asked.
"There was definitely something," Rossi said. "I'll talk to him later and see what I can-"
"Guys!" snapped Reid. He whispered, "No inter-team profiling!" everyone looked at him in varying degrees of surprise and shame. "Leave him alone," Reid muttered and kept his head down.
Hotch was silent the whole trip back to DC.
They arrived at six in the evening back in their city and after jotting down some notes for their case reports, headed home. They deserved it.
Hotch's strange behaviour continued; he didn't stay later than all of them, his paperwork as team leader stacked high by his elbow. He left just after JJ who'd run home to Will and her bub.
Reid had been walking towards the train station when Hotch's car pulled up alongside him. Hotch wound the window down. "Reid."
"Hotch?"
"Let me give you a ride home," Hotch insisted.
"I don't-"
"Please," said Hotch. "Let me make it up to you. I-I feel bad about what happened earlier."
"Umm."
"Re- *Spencer*."
"Oh, okay," said Reid. He walked around to the other side and slid in. The car, a dark sleek blue on the outside, was a lovely cream on the inside. "This is nice."
"Thank you."
"So how's Jack?"
"He's fine. He's with his babysitter until tomorrow afternoon."
"Are you going to get him back sooner?"
"No," sighed Hotch. "This- the last few days- I." He rolled his shoulders, trying to ease tension. "I just need some time to… sort things out."
Reid nodded. They travelled in silence for a little while, heading out of the CBD and towards the suburbs.
"You still in your old place?"
"Yeah," said Reid. He watched Hotch's hands move over the steering wheel as he drove. His hands were pretty beat up, some knuckles split from the earlier violence he's unleashed on the UnSub while protecting Reid.
"So…" Hotch gusted out a breath.
"About what happened," Reid said quietly, speaking of the hickeys, not the man in the coma. "Umm."
"I apologise sincerely for that," Hotch said. "I hope one day you can forgive me, Spencer."
"No, no," said Reid quickly. "It's fine."
"Fine?"
"It's just… it was unexpected. And I don't think I'm gay. And you were… a bit rough."
Hotch coughed awkwardly. "I was more than… a bit rough."
Reid winced, rubbing his wrist. "Yeah. I might have bruises for a few days." Reid watched as Hotch's fingers tightened on the steering wheel.
Hotch laughed, the sound strained. "Don't say such things."
"Sorry. It's just, you know. I'm *covered* in them. And I bruise so easily it'll take at least a week before they start fading."
The car jerked slightly, as if Hotch didn't know which pedal he wanted to be compressing.
"Sorry! I didn't mean to make you feel guilty. If it ever happens again, maybe you could be not so rough?"
Hotch stammered. "If it- it happens again?"
"Oh, right, sorry. No, no, I didn't mean. Of course. I spoke without thinking. I'll just sit here." Reid clasped his hands in his lap and looked out the window. "Um. Hotch, that was my right turn…"
"Oh." Hotch swallowed. Sweat beaded on his forehead. "I'll take a left up here. There's a short-cut. To come back around."
Reid nodded. "Okay." It didn't make much sense to him, turning left to get right. But he trusted Hotch, and Hotch was driving so he'd just enjoy the ride. He gave Hotch a small smile, letting him know Reid didn't mind.
Hotch made a sound like he was in pain.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine." Hotch twitched. "I think I just…" he pressed the button for his window to go down. "Some fresh air. There we go." Hotch breathed deep and slow.
"I've never been around here before," Reid said. Funny how a different direction could take you somewhere so unrecognizable when your own home was only minutes away. Where turning right took them into a suburb of apartment complexes and trendy shops, left had them going down a road with houses spaced further apart. Trees grew in the spaces between, the spaces widening. Dark fell, faster with the trees overhanging the road and the density of trunks meaning light couldn't slip through from the horizon.
"It's so strange out here," Reid breathed. "It reminds me kind of like a fairy tale."
Hotch switched the lights on and made a 'hmm' noise.
"You could expect to see Little Red Riding Hood running through the trees."
Hotch chuckled, seeming to finally unwind.
Reid took it as a sign and kept going. "With a big bad wolf after her, chasing her down, trying to eat her."
The car jerked as Hotch accidentally slammed on the brake pedal before moving forward again. "Sorry," he muttered.
"I always used to love the Little Red Riding Hood when I was young," Reid continued. "Although the wolf terrified me, with the way it pretended to be the grandmother. There was Red Riding Hood, with no idea, and all this time, just inches away, licking its chops was this great big dangerous beast. Waiting for the second to strike. It still sends shivers down my spine. Imagine being that close to something so massive and wicked and not knowing. Like with victims and unsubs," Reid said.
"Indeed," said Hotch. He sounded and looked like he was three seconds away from a heart attack.
"I always wondered what would have happened if the lumberjack hadn't have shown up. If the helpless girl had been all alone with the wolf, and all of its plans for her, with no-one to save her. Makes you think."
"Think what?" Hotch asked, eyes fixed manically on the road ahead.
"If you were Red Riding Hood."
That seemed to shake Hotch. His eyes skidded over to Reid's, eyes meeting. "Huh?"
"It's sort of like what we do when we pretend to be the victims or unSubs when we recreate the scene. When I hear that story, I always pretend I'm the person the wolf is about to attack. In my mind, it's me, with the wolf inches away, plans to attack me while I'm defenceless, devour me whole-"
The car slammed to a stop. This time it seemed deliberate. Reid's seatbelt caught him across the chest, momentarily winding him.
"Why on. *Earth*. Would you. Think. That," Hotch demanded.
"I don't know," said Reid. "I like the horror genre, and fairy tales. I guess the thought of being in that position just… tickles me."
"*Tickles* you?"
Reid shrugged self-consciously. "Yeah…"
"Reid," snapped Hotch. "Get out."
"What?"
"Get out!" roared Hotch. His voice was deep and forceful, vibrating the air inside of the car. His fingers were so tight on the steering wheel the fleshy rubber covering was bunched up between his fingers. Reid had never seen that before.
Reid pushed his door open, remembered his seat belt and then stumbled onto the curb. Reid steadied his breathing. What had he done wrong? Why was Hotch so angry?
"I… I'm sorry," Reid stammered, leaning an arm on the roof of the car and bending down.
"Reid. Shut. Up," said Hotch through gritted teeth, staring out the windshield.
Reid pinched his lips together and stood up. They waited a tense minute, Hotch's fingers and jaw slowly unclenching.
"Reid, Jeez, I'm sorry," he sighed. He let his head thump onto the steering wheel.
"Did I do something?" Reid asked. Nervous about upsetting his boss, but more importantly, nervous about upsetting *Hotch*.
"Reid-" Hotch's tone warned.
"Whatever it is I did wrong, tell me, and I'll fix it," Reid said. Hotch's head turned towards him, eyes fixed on some middle point in the distance. "Let me make it up to you," Reid begged.
Hotch was out of the car in an instant, his door slamming shut. He rounded the car quickly. Reid did a little nervous-step dance as Hotch advanced on him.
Hotch stooped a foot away from him, breathing heavily. "You didn't do anything wrong," he growled. "Now be quiet. And don't move." He stepped closer, Reid flinching back a bit, leaning back to reclaim space. "And for the love of- just, just, promise me," pleaded Hotch, eyed fixed on Reid's shoulder, "you won't run."
"Wha-?"
"Do. Not. Run," Hotch breathed. "The consequences will be… unfortunate. Promise me."
"I won't run."
Hotch's eyelids fell shut and he breathed out. "Good." They were basically nose to nose. "Shhh," purred Hotch, hands sliding up to run over Reid's arms.
"What are you doing?" The rubbing felt nice over the white material covering his arms.
"No questions," Hotch seemed to be in a trance. He reached forward and wrapped his arms around Reid. Reid felt a moment's panic, the incident in the Nevada office coming back to him but it subsided as all Hotch did was hug him. He turned his face into Reid's neck and seemed content there. The older man's nose brushed over his pulse and the hickeys from earlier, calming him.
Reid waited a moment as all fear subsided. He rarely got hugs from Hotch, just like everyone. If Hotch had decided he was okay for touching, Reid was okay with that. He let his head come to rest on Hotch's shoulder, facing outwards so their faces weren't too close together, and brought his arms around Hotch's waist.
"What are you doing?" rumbled into Reid's ear.
"Returning- I mean… hugging you back."
Hotch's arms tightened around his waist, squeezing air out of him. "Why?" Hotch rumbled, still with his face in the crook of Reid's neck. His voice was deceptively calm.
"I don't know."
"Why aren't you scared more?" Hotch picked Reid off the ground and swung him, pressing his back and legs to the car and leaning up against him. He raised his face, their eyes crossing slightly to meet each other's eyes. "Why aren't you scared *at all*?" Hotch laughed, the sound slightly hysterical. "What is wrong with you?"
Reid blushed and tried to duck his head. Lips brushed his neck and Reid's breathe hitched, a tongue lapping over his pulse point, flattening and rubbing over it solidly. There was the slickness of saliva, but his tongue felt… odd. Maybe rougher than usual? Not that Reid would know what Hotch's tongue usually felt like…
"You smell so delicious," Hotch said, but it didn't sound like Hotch. It was Hotch's voice, deeper and more gravelly than normal. But something was… off.
"Hotch are you okay?" Reid asked.
The tip of Hotch's nose ran lightly over Reid's jaw as Hotch looked up again. Something swam under his eyes like a large fish in a small pond. It was hypnotizing. "Run, little rabbit," purred Hotch.
"I thought you said-" sputtered Reid.
"Changed my mind," breathed Hotch, gaze roving all over Reid's face. "*Reid*." He said the name like a caress. Reid shivered and strong hands stroked down his spine. "Now. I want you to run."
"Run?"
Hotch stepped back and half-turned, leaving a clear path for Reid into the woods. "Run, Reid."
"I don't…" Reid swallowed and tried to press back into the unyielding metal of the car.
"You could not run," suggested Hotch. His eyes sparkled, darker than normal. "You could get back in the car. But that would be… *less fun*."
"What happens if I get back in the car?"
"Less space for you to get away," murmured Hotch, one hand reaching out stroke over the inside of Reid's closest wrist. Reid snatched his wrist away. "Run!"
Reid took a few unsteady steps away from the curb. He looked over his shoulder at Hotch and the car. "You won't just drive off and leave me here?"
Hotch's head tilted, a motion of confusion although one Reid had never seen on Hotch before.
"You won't leave me?" Reid asked again.
"I'll be behind you every step of the way," Hotch said. He grinned, teeth on display. That was not a reassurance.
That's when Reid realised, properly, with startling clarity… that was *not* Hotch. His eyes, his posture, his gestures and body language, the way he spoke, what he said. That was not Hotch. Reid wasn't sure what was going on; psychotic break of Hotch's own, multiple personalities, Reid's mind even briefly touched on brainwashing. His mind tickled at the dark corner that thought of superstitions, something not natural, but he ignored it.
There was nothing he could do. He wasn't getting back in the car.
Reid turned and ran.