Chapter 8
Hotch couldn't help but see the hurt on Rossi's face. "Shit!" Hotch said as he slammed his beer on the table and went after Rossi.
He caught up with him on the sidewalk in front of the bar. "Dave!" Rossi turned and Hotch saw the tears in his eyes. "Dave, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."
"It's alright, Aaron. What you do with your time is none of my business," he told him in a flat tone.
"I'm sorry," Hotch told him again.
Rossi studied him for a moment. He thought Hotch was being sincere, but he couldn't get over the shock of what he had said. "It's fine. I'll see you at work in the morning," he told him, went to his car, got in, and drove away.
"Just fucking great, Hotchner!" Hotch yelled into the street and slammed his fist into the side of the building. The dented metal siding didn't faze him and he stomped to his car.
XXX
The next morning, the whole team could sense the tension between Rossi and Hotch. JJ actually teared up as she talked to Morgan and Reid. "If he's pushed Rossi away, there's no help for him."
"They've been mad at each other before, JJ. They'll work it out," Reid assured her. They watched Rossi walk to his office from the break room.
"He looks like a dog that's just been kicked," JJ told them. They agreed, but they weren't sure what to do about it. It hadn't escaped anyone's attention that Hotch's left hand was bruised and swollen, either.
After the case presentation, they were on their way to Texas. Somebody was killing one woman every day for the last four days. The unsub was being especially brutal, too. They did their initial assessment on the jet, and everyone noticed that Rossi only spoke when spoken to. Morgan was getting more and more pissed. JJ and Reid were getting more and more upset, and Blake tried to shoot the breeze with them all to defuse the tension. The whole ride to Texas was miserable for them all.
They hit the ground running and even with the tension, they narrowed down their list of possible unsubs within a day, and by the third day, they were getting really close. Bodies were discovered every day, but that led to more evidence. By the fourth day, they knew who their unsub was. When they approached the local police with the evidence, the local cop's face blanched. Apparently, Thomas Jones, the young man they thought was responsible, was the son of a very prominent judge. He had been in a lot of trouble all growing up, but he had never faced any consequences for his actions because his father had gotten him out of it every time.
"We can call in the state police. We have the jurisdiction to make him face state charges," JJ suggested.
"God, I hope that works," the local cop told them.
"Now all we need to do is find him," Blake pointed out, and they all went back to work to try and locate the monster.
After not having any strong ideas where he was, Hotch sent the team to the hotel for the night and fresh eyes in the morning. When Reid asked him if he was going, too, Hotch told he would be along shortly, for them to go get something to eat. With a shrug, Reid followed everyone else out of the conference room.
By the time the team had finished eating, they realized Hotch was already at the hotel. They all eyed his room door as they passed it, but no one wanted to stop and talk to him. Morgan noticed Rossi hesitate, shake his head, and then go into his own room. Morgan sighed deeply and went into his room.
At 1:00 in the morning, Hotch quietly left his room and went down the hall to the exit. He got in the SUV and headed to where he thought Jones was. In all of the paperwork, no one noticed that Jones' grandfather had owned a cabin, and Hotch knew it was secluded enough for Jones to use to torture his victims. There was a full moon, so Hotch turned off the SUV's lights as he approached the cabin. He parked the SUV a safe distance away and walked the rest of the way on foot. He quickly looked through one of the windows and saw Jones cleaning blood off himself with a smile. Hotch's face showed all of the anger he was feeling as he made his way to the front door.
Hotch brought up his left foot, and kicked the door in with ease. Jones was so surprised that he just stood there in shock at the sight of the lone man holding a pistol on him. Jones glanced at a knife sitting on the table about four feet away from him. Hotch smiled. "Go ahead. Try it." Hotch told him as he put his pistol back in its holster. Jones looked back toward the door suspiciously. "There's no one else. I'm alone," Hotch told him as he looked at the body of another woman who had died at the hands of the sadistic bastard. Hotch crossed his arms across his chest; he had on a pair of black leather gloves.
"You think you can take me in?" Jones asked and then laughed. "My old man will get me off!"
"I never said I was here to take you in," Hotch told him casually.
Jones eyed him and took Hotch's casualness to mean that Hotch wasn't a threat to be worried about. He thought wrong. Jones lunged for the knife, but Hotch's foot caught his face before he could reach it. As Jones stumbled backwards, Hotch grabbed the knife. Within seconds Hotch was on him and had him backed against the wall. "Is this what you wanted?" Hotch asked him, his voice full of anger. "Here!" Hotch yelled as he stabbed Jones in the stomach. "How?" he stabbed him again. "Does" And again. "It" and again "feel?" and again. The man was begging him to stop. Hotch let him go and Jones sunk to the floor. Hotch knelt down and put his face inches away from Jones'. "Is that what they did? Did they beg for their lives?" Jones didn't answer as he breathed heavily. Hotch fixed him with his stare, and the young man actually yelped. "Tell Satan I said 'hi' when you see him!" Hotch told him with a wicked grin and plunged the knife into the man's chest, striking his heart.
Hotch stood up, his teeth clenched and breathing heavily. He gave the dead man one last look and pulled off the blood soaked gloves as he walked out of the cabin. He stripped off his shirt and put it on the ground with the gloves. Then he poured some paint thinner on top of them from a can he found on the cabin's porch. He took out a match, lit it, and dropped it onto the bloody garments. Once the fire was going good, he also dropped the can onto the fire. He watched as the little fire consumed all the evidence that he had ever been there. He smiled and waited to make sure everything was destroyed. He took a deep breath and realized that he actually felt good. All of the anger that had been burning away inside him was gone. Once the fire had done its job, he spread the ashes around and kicked dirt on top of it. With another smile, he walked back to SUV and then put on the extra shirt he had brought with him.
On the way back to the hotel, Hotch stopped and bought himself a coffee. It wouldn't be good to be caught out if he didn't have a reason to have left the hotel. He quietly made his way to his room, cleaned his shoes, put his dirty clothes into his go bag, took a shower, and then finally laid down. He fell asleep quickly.
The next morning everyone grabbed a quick breakfast, and Hotch even joined him. Rossi was surprised at how Hotch was acting. He could tell he was trying to actually be like his old self, and Rossi thought that maybe there might be a chance that Hotch would eventually make it back to who he was before. Hotch hurried them up and they all went to the station to try and figure out where Jones could be hiding. They got one report that he was staying at a friend's house, so they grabbed their vests and raided the house, but Jones wasn't there. At about two that afternoon, they were all thinking that the young man had just disappeared.
The station got a call at three, someone had spotted Jones car at a cabin in the woods, so they suited up again. They followed a police cruiser to the cabin and prepared to enter the cabin. Hotch, Rossi, and JJ took the side door, and Morgan, Blake, and Reid took the front. Within seconds they had found another victim and Jones.
"What the hell?" the detective exclaimed when he took in Jones' body.
"This is Sarah Collins," Blake told them as she looked over the dead woman's body.
"So he killed her, and then someone came in and killed him?" Rossi wondered aloud.
Hotch and Morgan were examining Jones' body. "That knife looks to be the same length that he used on his victims," Hotch pointed out.
"Yeah. Somebody sure was pissed. You think it might be one of the victim's family?" Morgan asked Hotch.
"Wouldn't surprise me," he told him and then leaned in closer to him. "We are in Texas," he whispered.
Morgan nodded and gave Hotch a small smile.
"Well, I think we can handle this one boys," the detective told them. "Though, I can't say I'm sorry for him. He got what he deserved."
They all eyed the detective warily but didn't say anything.
"They probably won't even look for the killer, will they?" JJ asked on the ride back to the station to wrap everything up.
"Probably not," Rossi told her.
XXX
Hotch's good mood didn't last for very long. Two days later, mean Hotch showed back up. Even though he was working hard to hide it, Rossi saw it sticking its ugly head out every once and a while. They were on a case in Oregon, and Hotch snapped at a young officer nearly scaring the poor boy to death. Hotch quickly apologized, but the whole team saw it. Within three days, the unsub was caught and they were on their way back home. Hotch sat in the back of the jet staring out the window. They could all feel the anger coming off of him in waves, and none of them were brave enough to ask him what was wrong. When they landed, he was the first to jump up and leave. The team looked at Rossi as they watched Hotch's car pull out of the parking lot. Rossi sighed.
"When are you two gonna patch things up?" Morgan asked him.
"Yeah, at least when he wasn't mad at you, he seemed at little more like old Hotch," JJ pointed out.
Rossi had never told them about his encounter with Hotch at the bar. "I'll try to talk to him tomorrow after work, but I can't promise anything."
They all accepted that, and they all made their way to their cars and home. Rossi was only in the car for five minutes when Jack called him. "Hey Buddy," Rossi answered worried that Hotch had done something.
"Hey, Uncle Dave. Can you do me a favor?"
"Anything for you, Buddy."
"Can you check on Daddy?"
"What do you mean?"
"He called and said that I had to stay with Aunt Jess, and that's fine. I know he's tired, but. . ."
"But what, Jack?"
"He seemed mad. I don't want Daddy to be mad."
Rossi's heart sank. "You want me to go over and check on him?"
"Please."
"Ok, Buddy. Don't worry, Jack, he'll be fine."
"Thanks, Uncle Dave. I love you."
"I love you, too."
Rossi ended the call, turned his car around, and headed to Hotch's.
Rossi let himself in with his key. A stereo was playing the Beatles' White Album very loudly. Rossi winced at the volume as he went to the stereo and turned it down. "Hotch?" Rossi called. He didn't want to accidently walk in on Hotch doing something he didn't want to see. Before, Rossi knew there would be no way Hotch would bring a woman home, but after seeing the woman at the bar, Rossi wasn't so sure anymore. Hotch didn't answer, and Rossi started to get worried. "Hotch?"
Finally Hotch's office door opened. "Rossi?" Hotch called back as he made his way to the living room. He was breathing heavily and his face was flushed. Hotch quickly put his hands in his back pockets as he stood there looking at Rossi.
"What the hell, Hotch?"
"What are you doing here, Rossi?" Hotch snapped.
"What were you doing?"
"None of your business. Why are you here?" Hotch asked again. Rossi decided to ignore him and went to walk down the hall towards Hotch's office. Hotch stepped in front of him to block him. "What do you want?" Hotch asked him coldly. Rossi went to step past him and Hotch stopped him by putting his hand on Rossi's chest. "Don't"
Rossi noticed Hotch's bloody knuckles. "What are you doing in there, Aaron?" Rossi asked suddenly very worried.
"Nothing. Just go, Dave."
Rossi studied him for a moment and pushed past him. Hotch grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. Rossi looked at Hotch's left hand; it had balled into a fist. "Jesus, Aaron. Are you going to hit me?" Rossi was actually scared he might.
Hotch suddenly realized what he was doing and a look of fear crept onto his face. He let go of Rossi and his hands went to his head as he turned away from him. "What the hell is wrong with me?" he screamed and fell to his knees.
Rossi's eyes watered and he went up to his friend. "It's gonna be ok, Aaron," he told him as he put his hand on Hotch's shoulder. Rossi's heart was breaking as he watched Hotch break down and cry. Rossi moved and got down on his knees in front of him. "Aaron, talk to me. What's going on?"
Hotch looked at him and Rossi could see a mixture of emotions in his eyes: fear, pain, and anger. "I don't know. Everything's fine for a while and then. . ." He broke down crying again.
Rossi pulled him into a hug and rubbed his hand in circles on his back. "It's ok. It's ok," Rossi kept telling him. After a few minutes Hotch settled down and pulled away from Rossi. "It's going to be alright, Aaron."
"Really?" Hotch laughed. "Cause I don't think so. I feel like I'm losing my mind, Dave."
"We'll get this straightened out," Rossi told him.
Hotch wiped his face. "You may not be so sure when you look in my office," Hotch told him quietly.
Rossi looked past Hotch to the door down the hall. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what was in there now, but he got up and went to the room. Hotch stayed on the floor.