Chapter 21

"Oh My God!" Rossi cried out again. "Hotch!"

He and Morgan hurried forward, both holstering their weapons, and several SWAT swarmed in behind them into the room. With Hotch so quiet and still, Rossi feared they were too late. He decided to take a chance, and removed the strip of tape covering his friend's mouth, then undid the strap of the Heretics fork, and tossed it aside. As he did so, Hotch groaned and opened his eyes a slit. He smiled weakly up at Rossi who gently cupped his cheeks in his hands, mindful of the cuts, and turned his friend's head toward him. He smiled with moist eyes as Hotch looked back at him.

"Aaron," Rossi chuckled struggling to keep his emotions in check. "Can't leave you alone for a minute without you getting into trouble, can I? You're worse than Reid."

"Dave…" Hotch said weakly with a faint smile of his own. "Knew you'd…come for me."

Rossi gently lay Hotch's head back on the table. "Keep still and let us get these wires off of you." He looked at the blood stains on the palms of his hands. Wiping his hands on the legs of his jeans, Rossi turned his attention to the wires binding his friend's ankles. His eyes fell on the grossly swollen left knee. "Morgan…"

Morgan, having freed Hotch's wrists, turned to Rossi only to notice at what the man was looking. He winced at the sight of Hotch's knee, and suspected it probably was broken or displaced. He glanced at Rossi. As the older man worked on the wires binding Hotch's ankles, Morgan looked at the wires attached to his boss's genitalia.

"Rossi, what the hell is this thing?" he asked staring at the torture device sitting on the table beside Hotch's legs.

"We can ask Reid later," Rossi assured him. He looked at one of the SWAT team. "Call for an ambulance!" he ordered.

Morgan's eyes returned to Hotch who seemed to be fading in and out of consciousness. He licked his lips. "Hotch, I need to get these wires off of your private parts. But to do that…" He knew Hotch would be thoroughly embarrassed to be seen naked in front of any member of his team, male or female. The man was not ashamed of his body. But he didn't want to have someone touch his private area other than his wife.

Hotch sensed Morgan's hesitance and swallowed. His throat was so dry and his mouth parched. "Just…do it. Can be…embarrassed…later…"

Morgan nodded and carefully started to undo the wires fastened first around Hotch's penis. He winced at seeing the burn marks left by the wires and the cattle prod. After a few seconds he had the wires undone, and felt Rossi touch his arm. He looked at the older man who picked up the leather apron, and covered Hotch's groin, mindful not to let the leather come in contact with the damaged knee. Morgan bowed and shook his head, then looked up at the ceiling, tears in his eyes and lower lip quivering. With a deep breath, he turned to the older man.

"Rossi, how's Hotch suppose to recover from this? I mean, look at 'im. He's got that bastard's initials carved into both cheeks. He's got burns on his body including his private parts, his feet have been whipped, his knee is possibly broken, and he's got fingerprints on his throat. What are we gonna do?"

Rossi gripped Morgan's shoulder and squeezed. "I'll tell you what we're gonna do. We're gonna be there for him just like always. We'll get him through this, Derek. Aaron is strong and he's not a quitter. He'll survive this and recover. You'll see."

Morgan took in and let out a deep breath. "I hope Armitage tries something when we take him into custody. One well placed bullet in that bastard's skull will save the taxpayers the cost of a trial."

"No. Mor...gan…" Hotch slowly turned his head toward his subordinate. "No re…venge. Not who…we are…"

Morgan looked at his boss and chewed his lower lip. "I can't help it, Hotch. What this bastard did to you ten years ago was bad enough. But this…" he couldn't finish. Hotch thought he understood. Hell, he'd feel the same way if this had been done to one of his team. He shifted his eyes to Rossi who nodded his understanding.

Rossi gripped Morgan by both shoulders and turned him so the two men faced each other. "Derek, listen to me. Armitage will pay for what he's done. But right now Hotch needs us." He relaxed a bit when Morgan slowly nodded his head and let out a deep breath. Just then, the wail of a siren was heard in the distance. "Go upstairs. Help Emily and Parsons. Once this guy hears the sirens, there's no telling what he's liable to do. I'll take care of Aaron." Morgan's hesitated. "Go!" Rossi added.

With a last glance at Hotch, Morgan knew Rossi was right. Hotch didn't teach them to be vigilantes. He taught them to be upholders of the law, and not let their emotions dictate their actions. Morgan nodded and headed toward the door Armitage had used earlier. After he had gone, Rossi turned his attention back to Hotch and gently stroked his dark hair as a father would his young child. The siren got louder indicating the ambulance was getting closer. Rossi looked at one of the SWAT team.

"Go back the way we came, and show the paramedics the way down here." He turned back to Hotch. "Listen to me, Aaron," he said in a soothing voice. "You're gonna be as good as new in a few weeks. Just give yourself the time to heal."

Hotch's smile came out more as a grimace. He was so tired he found it difficult to keep his eyes open. "Promise?"

"I promise." Rossi's attention was caught by three paramedics as they entered the room, two of them pulling a stretcher with a backboard on it between them. They approached the table on which Hotch lay, now barely conscious.

"Be careful with him," Rossi advised. "His knee might be broken and his feet have been whipped badly. I don't know if they're broken or not."

"We'll take good care of him, sir," one paramedic told him as they rolled the stretcher beside the table. "We have a team standing by at the hospital." He and his partner prepared to slide Hotch onto the backboard so they wouldn't jiggle his injured knee.

"Good," Rossi said, showing a stare that would rival Hotch's. "When you're ready to transport him, I'm riding with you, and it's not up for discussion."

Armitage heard the wail of the siren and understood at once what it meant as the sound grew closer. It told him an ambulance was approaching his home. In other words, the gig was up as they say. He smirked as he now looked at Parsons and Prentiss.

"What's so funny?" asked Prentiss, her face serious. She found herself not liking this man at all.

"You, Agent Prentiss," Armitage said. "This was all a stall tactic, wasn't it?"

"What makes you say that?" asked Parsons.

Armitage glanced at the detective and chose to ignore him. Instead, he turned his full attention back to the brunette woman. "You think a hospital is going to keep me from your precious Agent Hotchner, Emily? May I call you Emily?"

Prentiss' face remained impassive. "It's Agent Prentiss to you, Armitage."

Armitage chuckled as he slowly got to his feet as did Prentiss and Parsons, their eyes focused on the man.

"So you found out who I am. Bravo. Too bad you didn't figure that out before Aaron endured so much pain. Though I must thank you for giving me that time alone with him. I so enjoyed it." He let out a deep breath. "So you got here before I finished with Aaron. But he'll never get over what I've done to him. He'll never be the same man again. I've seen to that." He reached a hand into his pocket.

"Don't do that," Parsons suggested as he and Prentiss both drew their weapons and aimed them.

"Take your hand out of your pocket," Prentiss ordered. She hoped to take the bastard alive, but if not, she was okay with that.

Armitage never removed his hand from his pocket. "You think you can keep me from Agent Hotchner?" He chuckled. "You can't. I will never stop coming after him until he's dead. You can't save him. Nobody can."

"I'd rethink that if I were you," a voice said from behind Armitage. The man smirked but didn't turn around as he already figured out who it was.

"Agent Morgan. How nice of you to join us. Tell me, how's Aaron? Is he in much pain?"

Morgan ground his lower jaw in anger. "You know he is, you bastard! Now put up your hands where we can see 'em!" His finger tightened on the trigger.

Armitage didn't move. He grinned deviously keeping his back to Morgan. "Can't do that, agent. I will never leave Aaron alone. Never. I will get to him in the hospital. He will never set foot outside…" his fingers dug further into his pocket and a shot was fired. Armitage smirked at Prentiss. "I'll see Agent Hotchner in hell," he said before his knees buckled. His body collapsed in a heap on the floor, blood pooling around his body.

As Prentiss and Parsons warily stepped closer with weapons pointed downward, Emily glanced up at Morgan. There was a faint puff of smoke emanating from the business end of his Glock. His eyes were hard and cold as he glared at the body. Prentiss knelt down and pulled Armitage's hand from his pocket. Clutched in his hand was a small caliber weapon. She picked up the weapon and handed it to Parsons, then pressed two fingers against Armitage's throat. She looked up at Morgan and shook her head indicating the man was dead. Prentiss wouldn't swear to it, but she believed Morgan had a smile on his face hearing the news.

"Did you find Hotch?" Prentiss asked tucking her weapon in her holster looking at Morgan, concern on her face.

"We did. He's in bad shape," Morgan replied. "To be honest, Prentiss, I don't know if he's gonna recover from this." As he described their boss's injuries, a look of horror appeared on Emily's face as she listened. He could tell that she wanted to go to the hospital and be with Hotch as did he. But somebody had to stay and help the police with the details of what happened. "Emily, go. They're downstairs. I'm sure Rossi's gonna need somebody to be with him right now. I'll be there as soon as I can."

Prentiss smiled her thanks and headed toward the door Morgan had come through earlier. "I'll contact JJ and Reid when we're on our way. You'd better call Garcia and let her know we found Hotch."

"I will…after we find out what condition he's in," Morgan assured her.

Prentiss nodded and disappeared through the door and hurried downstairs. By the time she reached the room, Hotch was secured to a gurney with a white sheet covering him up to his shoulders. There was a cervical collar around his neck to keep his head still. He appeared to be unconscious. Two paramedics were pulling the stretcher toward the door which would lead them back to the outdoors where an ambulance was waiting. She saw Rossi was behind the stretcher.

"Rossi!"

The older man turned to see Prentiss hurrying toward him. "How is he?" she asked.

Rossi bit his lower lip and wrapped an arm around Emily's shoulders. "He's hanging in so far, kiddo. But it doesn't look good."

"Morgan told me what happened. Hotch will be all right. He's strong and he's tough. He'll recover from this. You just got to have a little faith."

"Sir, are you coming?" asked the paramedic who was pushing the stretcher from behind while the one in front pulled.

"We're right behind you," Rossi told him. He gripped Emily's shoulders tighter as the two of them followed the paramedics out of the room. Try as he might, his quivering lower lip didn't escape Emily's observant eyes.

"I've never seen you scared before," she said gently. "Is Hotch's condition worse than what Morgan told me?"

Rossi let out a deep breath. "I don't know," he replied. "But his knee and feet injuries worry me the most. It's possible he may lose the full use of his knee and be crippled for the rest of his life. Or, the injuries to his feet may put him in a wheelchair for the rest of his life." They followed the stretcher outside to where the ambulance was parked. They watched as the paramedics started to load the stretcher inside the vehicle.

"You can't think like that. And whatever happens, he's alive and he's safe. Also, Armitage will never hurt him again. He's dead. Morgan shot him."

"Good," Rossi replied in a low voice. Right now, the older man didn't care if Morgan shot Armitage on purpose or not. He couldn't deal with that right now. All that mattered at this moment was Aaron Hotchner. Once the stretcher was loaded in the back, the two paramedics climbed inside and tended to their patient. Rossi looked at Emily as she pulled away from him.

"You go on ahead. I'll follow you in the car. Hotch doesn't need everybody hovering over him in the ambulance."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"You coming?" asked one of the two paramedics. "We need to get going."

Rossi glanced at Prentiss one last time before he climbed inside the back of the ambulance and closed the door behind him. He sat beside Hotch but kept out of the way of the paramedics so they could work on his best friend. Rossi reached out and gripped one of Hotch's hands in both of his. He ran both thumbs over the back of his friend's hand as the vehicle pulled away and headed to the hospital.

"You're gonna be okay, Aaron. Trust me. And no matter how long it takes, I'm gonna be right beside you all the way. The entire team will." He didn't want to tell Hotch about Armitage's death yet. His friend would want…no, demand, to be told if Morgan shot the man in cold blood. And that would only impede in his recovery. "You have to keep fighting. And if I suspect you're giving up, I will personally kick your ass myself. You can count on it."