Chapter 5

The next couple of days went about the same. Hotch couldn't remember anything from one day to the next, and no matter what Reid or the doctor said, it still worried Rossi. Hotch had also continued to be in a foul mood. Rossi couldn't blame him, but it was hard on everyone who witnessed it. Rossi had told Jessica to keep Jack away because he wasn't sure how Hotch would be with him, so it was better to be safe than sorry. Rossi had to remind himself that Hotch didn't remember being awake, so when he didn't ask about Jack, it was because he thought he had just woken up, and not that he had gone several days without seeing his son.

One good thing was that Hotch was staying awake longer. The doctor said that once Hotch could stay awake for at least two hours, then they would start rehab on him. Rossi silently wished that would happen soon because he thought that would help Hotch get over the amnesia. Everyone else on the team had all but stopped going to see Hotch because they couldn't handle seeing him the way he was.

Rossi had talked to Strauss and after he threatened to take a leave of absence, she put him on stand down. He had to handle all of the consults and all of Hotch's paperwork, but he didn't have to go out on cases. He, of course, promised the team that if they needed him, he would join them. So far they hadn't needed his help, and Rossi got in the habit of stopping in to visit Hotch three times a day: once before going to work, a quick visit at lunch, and again on his way home.

Hotch was awake when Rossi got there at lunch. He eyed Rossi warily. "What's wrong?" Rossi asked him.

"You mean other than being blown up and being in the hospital? That's not enough?"

Rossi was surprised. Either someone else had told Hotch what had happened, or he had remembered from the previous day. Hotch's tone was almost normal, too. Rossi smiled. "I'd say that's plenty. Are you in pain?"

Hotch reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose, and Rossi smiled again at the usual Hotch move. "Just a headache. I can't seem to get it to go away."

"Do you want something for it?"

The stare was back. "I think I'm capable of asking for something if I think I need it, Dave."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to imply you weren't."

Hotch's stare softened a little.

"Do you remember me being here yesterday?"

"Yes, and this morning."

That shocked Rossi, he hadn't thought Hotch was even awake. "How long have you been awake?"

"I don't know. What difference does it make?" Hotch asked him in a harsh tone.

Rossi chose to ignore it. Hotch needed to know what he had to do to get better. "Because once you're awake for at least two full hours then you can start on rehab and work toward getting yourself out of here."

"Rehab? How long have I been here?"

"This is the sixteenth day."

Hotch looked shocked. He looked out the window. "Are we still in Michigan?"

"No. They brought you home after four days there. You're in Reston."

Hotch fixed him with his stare again. "Then why hasn't Jack been up here?"

Rossi thought that Hotch didn't believe him. "He has been many times, just not yesterday or today. You weren't remembering anything from day to day."

"And there's a reason he wasn't here yesterday?"

Even recovering from a brain injury and a coma, Hotch was still profiling him. Rossi smiled mentally because he knew his friend's brain was alright. "You've been in a bad mood, and it scared him."

Hotch looked shocked for a second, but the stare returned and deepened and Rossi had to fight the urge to take a step back. "What do you mean, scared him?"

"With that," Rossi told him gesturing to Hotch's face. "You been giving everyone your stare, and it scared Jack."

"What stare?" he asked, still using it.

"The one that's on your face right now. The one you used to reserve only for unsubs." Rossi was scared; he didn't think Hotch had any idea what he was talking about. "Relax your eyes and forehead, Aaron." Rossi almost laughed as he watched as Hotch tried, but it seemed like he couldn't. Finally he rubbed a hand down his face.

"Better?"

"A little," Rossi said tentatively.

Hotch rolled his eyes. "Well, if I did, I didn't mean to."

"He knows that," Rossi started and realized the stare was back. "What emotion are you feeling right now, Aaron?"

Hotch eyed him coldly. "I don't want to play your game, Dave."

"It not a game, and if we can't figure out what is going on with you, then you're gonna have a hard time controlling yourself for Jack." Rossi told him forcibly.

That made Hotch stop and consider, but he just closed his eyes and leaned back against his pillow.

"Aaron, please, talk to me."

Hotch took a deep breath. "My head hurts, Dave. I don't feel like talking," Hotch told him without even opening his eyes.

"Have you told the doctor about it?"

"No."

"If you won't, I will."

"Whatever."

Rossi frowned at that. Hotch would never have ended a conversation like that before, and it bothered Rossi more than he wanted to admit. He patted Hotch on the arm and went to go find Hotch's doctor.

Hotch doctor assured Rossi that a headache after the trauma Hotch had went through was normal, but he promised to give Hotch something for it, and Rossi thanked him and promised to be back later.

XXX

On the way to visit Hotch that evening, Rossi vowed that if Hotch still remembered everything the next day, then he would bring Jack up to see him. He prayed that whatever the doctor gave him would help, and that Hotch's mood was just due to pain. A nurse stopped Rossi before he could get into Hotch's room. She told him that Hotch spent most of the afternoon awake, and that they had removed his feeding tube. They wanted to see if Hotch would eat, but Hotch had yet to touch any of the food they had provided, and she wanted Rossi help to see if he could get him to eat. He told her he would try, and she thanked him with a small smile.

Hotch was laying back with his hands behind his head when Rossi went into his room. Rossi smiled as he looked at the food they had wanted Hotch to eat; it was all liquids. The poor man needs some steak and some pasta.

Hotch opened his eyes and looked at Rossi as he pulled up a chair next to him and sat down.

Rossi noticed him looking, and he was glad he didn't see the stare. "Nurse says you need to eat, Hotch."

Hotch gave him a disgusted look. "You eat the shit. I'm not." Rossi almost laughed. "I'll wait until I get home and eat some real food."

"You won't get to go home if you're not strong enough," Rossi told him as he got up and grabbed the bowl of broth. Hotch watched him take it to the bathroom and pour most of it in the toilet. Then he did the dame with the runny applesauce. "If they think you're eating this, then they'll change you to solid food at least," Rossi told him with a smile.

Hotch actually smiled. "Thanks."

Rossi's heart skipped a beat at Hotch's smile. "How's the head?"

"A hell of a lot better than it was."

"Good."

"Do you remember what happened?"

Hotch closed his eyes for a moment while he tried to recall his last case. He finally looked at Rossi again. "The last thing I remember is Garcia telling us about the property and storage rooms." Rossi went ahead and told him about everything that happened. "Nobody else got hurt?"

"No."

"Good."

XXX

The next morning, Hotch did remember, and Rossi promised to bring Jack up that evening. After disposing of Hotch's breakfast, Rossi stayed a few more minutes but told Hotch he would be back around five. The doctor stopped Rossi in the hall and told him they were going to try and get Hotch up and moving. Rossi smiled as he made his way to work. The team was on their way to Rode Island for a case, so Rossi worked quickly and actually got done about four. He went and picked up Jack.

Rossi was glad to see Hotch's smile for Jack. Rossi stayed back and let Hotch visit with his son. He saw Hotch trying to keep his stare off his face, and it worried him. It was almost like the stare was trying to become Hotch's normal expression. He also noticed that Hotch kept having to stop himself from cussing. Hotch was never one to cuss all the time, and Rossi realized that he had cussed the night before, too. Rossi shook his head. Maybe his headache is back and he can't focus. The nagging in the pit of his stomach and the little voice in his head disagreed. He wasn't sure what was happening to his friend, but he vowed to get to the bottom of it. He decided to talk with Hotch's doctor about it.

Jack laughed at something, and Rossi was glad Hotch was making an effort to keep his son from being afraid. After about an hour, the Hotch stare was starting to show, and Rossi told Jack that it was time to go. Jack kissed and hugged his father goodbye, and Rossi told Hotch that he would see him in the morning.

On the way to Jessica's, Rossi explained to Jack about Hotch's headaches. Jack understood and told him he was fine, that he could tell his father was getting better. Rossi walked Jack to the door and then Rossi gave Jessica an update. She said she would take Jack back up the next day after school. Rossi bid her goodbye and went home to do some research.

No, not Aaron, Rossi thought as he read over the words on his computer screen: even a minor traumatic brain injury can cause changes in personality and emotions, either temporary or permanent. My God, I hope it's temporary. Rossi went on to read about how changes in personality can lead to changes in relationships, jobs, friends, and depression because the hurt person doesn't understand why he is being treated differently. They don't realize that they are different and don't know how to act like their old self because they think they are their old self. Shit! So he's acting stranger because we're acting strange. Why, God? Couldn't him getting hurt and almost dying be enough? Rossi felt anger like he never had. Aaron was of the best people he had ever met. The man was good in every sense of the word: a good man, a good father, a good friend, a good profiler, a god human being. Rossi didn't know what to think if the 'good' in Hotch was gone. NO! Hotch is still good, damn it! Rossi turned off his computer and went to bed after downing a glass of scotch. The Aaron I know and love is not gone!

XXX

After five days, Hotch was ready to go home. Rossi noticed that Hotch was more Hotch-like every day, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He also noticed, though, that when his head was hurting the 'mean Hotch', as he was starting to call it, would show up. Hotch had never had a problem handling pain before, and it scared Rossi to think that Hotch may have to fight the headaches for the rest of his life. Rossi also noticed Hotch studying him more, like he was gauging how to act based on how Rossi was acting. Hotch was a very intelligent man, and Rossi was worried that it wasn't just the headaches, but that Hotch was smart enough to fake his way into fooling Rossi that he was still the old Hotch. Rossi wasn't sure of anything anymore when it came to Hotch.

Rossi mentioned that the team wanted to come by his house to welcome him home, but Hotch flat out refused. He didn't want attention. While that wasn't new, the old Hotch would have gracefully accepted it. Rossi bit his lip as he drove his friend home. "Alright, Aaron, but you must understand that they care about you. They just want to know you're home and doing well."

"I'm sure you can handle telling them that." Hotch studied Rossi face. "Maybe once I'm more up to par," Hotch added when he saw the concern Rossi was trying hard to hide.

Rossi nodded. "Jessica is staying with you?"

"No."

"Do you think it's best to be alone right now?"

"I think I know what's best for me, Dave."

"I'm not saying you don't. I'm just worried you'll need help with something and no one will be there to help."

"What would I possibly need help with? I may be a little weaker than before this all started, but I'm not helpless."

"Is Jack coming home today?"

"No."

Rossi could tell Hotch was getting mad, so he let it drop. Maybe some time alone might help him sort things out. They pulled into Hotch driveway and Hotch got out and went to his door without another word. Rossi sighed heavily. Hotch may have been closed off to most people, but he always opened up to Rossi before. Rossi carried Hotch bag inside for him. "You want me to stay?"

Hotch's look told him he didn't, but he shrugged and turned to go into the house. Rossi shook his head. Rossi went into the kitchen and smiled as he realized someone had stocked Hotch's fridge with meals for Hotch to warm up. Rossi figured it was Garcia from the colorful labels that were attached to the containers. Rossi went into the living room and found Hotch pouring himself a drink. "Do you think that's wise?"

Hotch sat the bottle down roughly and closed his eyes and then fixed Rossi with his stare. "Are you going to second guess every damn thing I do?"

"I will if I think I need to." Hotch huffed. "Aaron, you're on pain meds. You're not supposed to drink with them."

"Maybe they aren't enough." Hotch told him harshly and picked up the glass of scotch and walked over to his couch and sat down.

And enter, mean Hotch. Rossi followed Hotch to the couch. "Is it just your head?"

"Yes," Hotch told him without looking at him.

"How long has the medicine not helped?"

"For a couple of days."

"Why didn't you talk to your doctor about it?"

Hotch took a long drink of the scotch and didn't answer him.

"If it's not helping, there's got to be something else they could try."

"Just go, Dave. I don't need a babysitter."

Rossi looked at his friend, bit his lip, and sighed. "Alright, Aaron. I'll be back tomorrow after work."

Hotch just sat there. Rossi shook his head and let himself out.