Chapter 13

Hotch moaned at the pain in his head as he started to regain consciousness. Rossi smiled when he noticed his friend finally moving. He had been afraid that the blow to Hotch's head had damaged the already damaged man. "Hotch?" Rossi asked him as he tried to scoot the chair he was cuffed to closer to Hotch.

Hotch moved his head a little more and finally opened his eyes. "Dave?"

"Right here," Rossi told him. "You ok?"

Hotch finally picked up his head and looked toward Rossi. "Where are we?" He asked as he realized his hands were cuffed behind.

"I don't know. Are you ok?"

Hotch squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. "I think so. You?"

"Just a bit of a headache."

"What the hell have we gotten ourselves into?"

"I don't know, but I have a feeling it has something to do Johnson."

"If it's the same assholes who killed those Marshalls, it doesn't look too good for us," Hotch told him seriously. He looked around the room they were being held in. It was just a bare room with no windows and one door.

"Morgan and JJ are bound to know were missing by now, but I agree we need to come up. . ." Rossi stopped as he heard the door opening. In walked Marcus Berg, the man who had killed the judge according to the Marshalls. He was suspected to be a mob hit man. Shit! Rossi thought.

"Well, well, well, looks like we got ourselves a couple of big, bad, FBI agents," Berg told the two men who had walked in behind him.

Rossi glanced at Hotch. Hotch's face was blank, and it almost scared Rossi.

Berg walked up to Hotch and backhanded him across the face. The side of Hotch's mouth was bleeding as he brought his head back to face the man. "Where's Johnson?"

"Fuck you," Hotch told him slowly. Rossi could see the anger growing in Hotch's eyes.

"You might as well tell me now. You'll tell me eventually," Berg told him with a smile. Hotch only looked at him. "No?" Hotch was silent. Berg cocked his arm back and punched Hotch in the gut. Hotch doubled over as the air escaped him. Before Hotch could recover, Berg punched him in the face. Hotch took a couple of deep breaths and finally sat back up. He was smiling. Rossi shuddered; Hotch's smile sent chills down his spine. "You think this is funny?" Berg asked him and punched Hotch in the face again. Hotch spit blood onto the floor and actually laughed. Rossi shuddered again. It wasn't Hotch's normal childlike guffaw; it was a sinister laugh that sounded like it came straight from hell. Rossi knew Hotch was madder than he has ever seen him. Berg looked at his companions. Rossi thought Berg actually looked worried. He looked back at Hotch. "You're a crazy son of bitch aren't you?"

"You have no idea," Hotch told him coldly.

"Where's Johnson?" Berg asked again.

"Go to hell." Hotch told him with another creepy smile.

Berg punched him in the gut again, but Rossi could tell that Hotch had tightened his stomach muscles. It looked like Berg hurt his hand and Rossi had to hide a smile. Berg smiled at Hotch. "Well, since you aren't going to help me, maybe your friend will be a little more cooperative." Berg walked over to Rossi and the smile left Hotch's face.

"Don't you touch him," Hotch told him venomously.

Berg raised his brows in surprise. "Would you be willing to trade Johnson's location to save your friend?"

"Don't Hotch. They're probably just going to kill us anyway," Rossi said quickly. He couldn't handle the fact of Hotch giving up an innocent man to save him.

Hotch just smiled at Rossi. Hotch didn't even look like Hotch, and Rossi wasn't sure to be afraid of him or Berg. Berg cocked back his arm and started to swing at Rossi's face. Before the blow could connect, Hotch let out a primal yell and dove into Berg. Their struggle knocked Rossi over in his chair and Rossi could tell the other two guys had joined in the fight. Rossi struggled to angel himself so he could see what was going on. Before the men could pull Hotch off of Berg, Rossi heard a sickly snap of bones, and Rossi knew that Berg's neck had been broken. Hotch jumped up and grabbed one of the guys and slammed him into the wall. The other guy dove into Hotch's back and they went down. Hotch punched him in the gut, and Rossi could hear the air leave his lungs. While that guy was stunned, Hotch leapt back at the other man. One powerful blow to his jaw and the man went down in a heap. Hotch quickly turned to the last man and with one more look at Hotch, he took off running out the door.

Breathing heavily, Hotch went over to Rossi and pulled him back up into a sitting position. "Are you ok?" Hotch asked him as he reached in his pocket for his handcuff key. Berg apparently didn't think he needed to worry about Hotch being able to get into his pockets. Hotch went behind Rossi and unlocked the cuffs holding his friend then quickly went back and knelt down in front of Rossi.

"Jesus Christ, Hotch!" Rossi yelled then grabbed Hotch's hands. The chain that held the handcuffs together was snapped in the middle.

"I'm sorry I knocked you down. Are you ok?" Hotch asked frantically.

"I'm fine! Are you?"

Hotch nodded as he pulled Rossi into a standing position. "We better get out of here before he brings back help," Hotch told him as he went to the side of the door and quickly looked to see if anyone was coming.

Rossi just stood there in shock over what he had witnessed. He couldn't believe what Hotch had done. Rossi looked at Berg and then to the unconscious man lying not far from him. Son of a bitch!

"Dave? Come on."

Rossi took a deep breath and nodded. He followed Hotch into the next room. Rossi realized they were in some sort of basement. Two more rooms and they found their guns, badges, and cell phones. "That was nice of them," Rossi said with a small smile as they both put their holsters back where they belonged; they kept their pistols in their hands.

"And stupid," Hotch told him as he led the way out of the room. They soon found some stairs and eventually found their way out onto the street. They finally put their guns away and Rossi took out his phone to call Morgan.

Within ten minutes, Morgan pulled up and so did the local police and Marshalls. Rossi told them what had happened and eventually Morgan took them to pick up their SUV at the restaurant. They went back to the hotel and Hotch said he was going to take a shower. Rossi watched him go to his room.

"Hotch has turned into one scary dude," Morgan told Rossi.

"Yeah, I was pretty sure we were going to die in that room."

"I'm not saying it's a bad thing, it's just. . ."

"Yeah, I agree," Rossi told him and headed to his own room. Rossi wasn't sure what to think of it all. A few days before when he thought Hotch might be a vigilante, Rossi tried telling himself that Hotch couldn't physically do some of the things the killer had done, now he wasn't too sure. Rossi sat down on his bed heavily. And now he has just saved your life, and you're still thinking bad things about him? Rossi shook his head and got out the bottle of scotch he had brought with him. He poured himself a stiff drink and sat in the chair, sipping it as he tried to get a handle on his thoughts.

The next day, they tracked down the man who had escaped from the basement, and he led him to the mole in the Marshall's office. Johnson didn't need protecting anymore as Berg was dead, so they all got on the jet Friday afternoon for the quick ride home. Hotch looked like his face had been hit by a truck. The whole right side of his face was swollen and bruised and the left sides of his lips were fat and bruised. The team had never seen him look so bad.

Hotch hadn't been angry, but he had been overly quiet since the fight; and that bothered Rossi, so he went and sat down beside him at the back of the jet. "Why are you so quiet?"

"Dave, I'm so. . ." Hotch shook his head and looked out the window.

"Talk to me, Aaron."

Hotch turned back to him and looked him in the eyes. "I can't believe I did what I did in front of you. I am so sorry, Dave."

Rossi didn't like that Hotch added 'in front of you' onto that statement, but he gave Hotch a small smile. "I think you saved both of our lives, Aaron. I should be thanking you, not you apologizing to me."

"I honestly didn't think there was any negotiating with that man, and I couldn't handle the thought of him hurting you."

"He hurt you, too." Rossi told him as he looked at the bruises on Hotch's face, and Rossi was sure there were a couple bad ones on Hotch's stomach, but Hotch didn't complain about them.

"After the first hit, I was so mad I didn't even feel them."

"Do you feel them now?" Rossi really wanted to know.

"Oh yeah, I think he might have cracked one of my ribs," Hotch told him with a grimace and adjusted the way he was sitting.

Rossi gave him a shocked look. "Jesus, Aaron. You should have gone to the hospital!"

"It's just a little uncomfortable to breath too deep; I'll be fine."

Rossi shook his head. "When I woke up and realized we had both been knocked out, and you weren't waking up very fast. . . I was worried."

Hotch gave him a small smile. "I'm fine, Dave, really. I'm just worried about Jack when he sees me. He's going to freak out."

Rossi laughed. "Yep."

XXX

The team got home to find out they had the next day off and as long as no pressing cases came up they could have Sunday off, too. They all hurried through their case closing files and went out for a drink at their usual bar. To everyone's surprise, Hotch even joined them. They would have thought Hotch wouldn't have wanted to go out in public with the way his face looked, but he just smiled lopsidedly and said he didn't give a shit what anyone thought. Hotch didn't stay long, though, because he said he was getting Jack and since they actually had a Saturday off, that he wanted to get to bed early and spend as much time with Jack as possible. Rossi smiled at him and they all told him goodnight.

XXX

Garcia called them Sunday afternoon with a case. Rossi frowned but got ready and drove to the BAU. He was the last one to show up in the conference room and when Garcia started the presentation, Rossi choked on his coffee. Local police wanted help to catch the killer the press had dubbed 'The Dealer of Justice'.