A/N: Sorry to take so long to update. Muse is still missing and it's a struggle to write right now as I can't seem to put it together. But I intend to continue and finish this story as well as my other two. That said, I plan for this story to be completed in hopefully eight more chapters.

Chapter 38

The following morning found Aaron Hotchner in the same position as he had been earlier. On his back staring at the ceiling, miserable, lonely, and worthless. He had also convinced himself that Haley didn't want him, nor had any use for him anymore. How could she? How could any woman have use for a man who wasn't a real man anymore?

Why should she, Hotchner? You're not a man. You might as well be a eunuch. She's better off finding a real man. Not someone who is sexually useless. Face it, Hotchner, Haley no longer wants or is attracted to you. You have nothing to offer her. Not anymore. She's too nice a person to tell you she doesn't want you anymore.

A door opening made him turn his head. The expression on his face turned to one of sadness when a hospital attendant entered carrying a food tray.

"It's only me, Agent Hotchner," the brunette woman announced as she placed the tray with his breakfast on it on the mobile tray. She moved it closer to the bed. After elevating the head of the bed, she smiled as she removed the lid from the bowl. "Doctor Maynard okayed you having oatmeal, a fruit cup, apple juice, and tea." Hotch looked away from the food and stared at the wall across from him.

"Take it away. I don't want it," he ordered listlessly.

"Agent Hotchner, you need to eat if you're going to get back your strength."

"I said I don't want it." Hotch kept his face turned away.

The attendant exhaled through her nose. "Agent Ho…." She began before Hotch's arm struck out and knocked the food tray to the floor, startling Garcia who had entered the room quietly. She looked down at the mess at her feet, then stared worriedly at her boss who caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head away from her.

"Sorry, Garcia," he mumbled not looking at her. The last thing he wanted was for anybody to witness him break down or look defeated.

The attendant huffed and placed both hands on her hips. Out of all her years, she had never met a difficult patient. She stared at the mess and then at the patient. "Agent Hotchner…" she began, but shut her mouth when a hand touched her arm. She looked at Penelope who offered her a small smile.

"Just have somebody clean this up and bring him another breakfast tray," she said. Garcia noticed the woman's name-tag read 'DANA' on it. When the woman started to open her mouth, Garcia smiled. "Please, Dana," she added after a few seconds. The other woman shut her mouth.

"Don't bother," Hotch said sadly. Both woman looked at the back of his head. Dana shook her head. She and Garcia exchanged concerned looks.

"I'll have a janitor clean that up and bring him another food tray." She told Garcia before she left the room, mumbling to herself.

Now alone, Penelope stepped around the mess on the floor, and looked at her boss with compassion as she approached the bed. She understood why Hotch was acting this way. She also understood he couldn't find out the team had been told the truth about his most serious injury. Keeping that secret pained her greatly. All she wanted to do was hug her Unit Chief, and tell him things would be all right again.

"Sir, can I sit down, and will you at least talk to me?" she asked taking another hesitant step forward. Hotch was such a proud man, and she suspected right now he must believe himself less of a man because of his injury. Usually she had trouble keeping a secret. But this time it was important she did. So she understood she'd have to tread carefully.

Hotch swallowed the lump in his throat. He didn't want to make his technical analyst think her visit was more like an unwanted intrusion. "I'm sorry, Garcia. I'm a little down this morning, that's all."

"That's understandable, sir." She licked her lips nervously. "I mean, after what you've been through, nobody expects you to be one hundred percent hunky-dory."

Hotch turned to face her. There were tears glistening in her eyes. The corners of his mouth curled upward. "Since you're here, have a seat. I promise I won't bite."

"Are you sure, sir? I mean, Agent Rossi told us you didn't want any visitors last night, and he would tell us when it was okay to visit. I got so scared. And I really needed to see if you were okay for myself."

Hotch's chest tightened. "I'm sure, Penelope. Please, have a seat. You're acting as if you're afraid of me."

"Sorry, sir." Garcia slowly sat down in the chair putting the shopping bag on the floor out of Hotch's sight. She was wearing a bright yellow dress with a black, waist-length jacket, and black platform heels. Her soft blond hair was in twin ponytails with black ribbons. She also wore glasses with a black and yellow frame, and large matching tear-shaped earrings. She also carried a plastic shopping bag on one arm.

"I realize it's a silly question. And you don't have to answer if you don't want to, sir. I'd understand. But are you okay? I mean really okay?"

"I'm okay, Penelope. I'm sorry if I gave you the impression before that I didn't want you here."

"You don't need to apologize to me, my liege."

"Is everything all right with you?"

"Yes, sir," Garcia stammered as she slid the fingers of one hand under her frames to wipe away her tears before they fell down her cheeks. It was so like Hotch to worry about others other than himself. "I just…that is…I was worried about you, sir. Worried and scared." Tears started to run down her cheeks and his heart broke. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to…" she began wiping the tears away. The last thing she wanted to do was make her boss feel guilty. "I was just so scared, sir. Especially when we were told not to come yesterday."

Hotch swallowed the growing lump in his throat. Garcia always knew the exact way to brighten his day. Also, he was thankful for the company. "There's no need to be scared, Penelope." A small smile appeared on his face. "I'm going to be fine. So there's no need to cry. I'll be my old self in no time. I promise."

Garcia smiled despite her tears. "Yes, sir. And you'll be sure to tell moi if you need or want anything?"

"I promise." His eyes shifted to the shopping bag. He suspected it was too early for the stores to be open.

"What's in the bag?" he asked. "You find a store that was open this early?"

Garcia chuckled as she reached into the bag. "I brought you a few things to brighten up this otherwise dull room, my liege." She pulled out a large tan stuffed bear wearing a black suit, white shirt, and black tie, and had a stare like Hotch's. She sat it on the foot of the bed near Hotch's leg, facing him. "When we found out we couldn't come, I went shopping. I saw this guy in a display window and his stare reminded me of you, sir. So I bought him. I call him Hotch the Second." She chuckled as she looked at the bear, stroking its head. "The only thing he's missing is the dimples."

Hotch winced as he looked at the stuffed bear. I've been called a lot of things, but never a teddy bear. Then again, I suppose it's better than being called a eunuch. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Garcia again reach into her bag. She pulled out a large 8x10 envelope and handed it to her boss.

"It's a get-well card from me. You can read it at your own leisure if you want."

Hotch felt his eyes become misty. "I'll read it later, Garcia. I promise." He laid the envelope on his stomach. He opened his mouth to say something, but shut it when the door opened. A janitor with a mop and pail walked inside, and quickly cleaned up the spilled oatmeal and tea. As the fruit cup and apple juice were in sealed containers, they were tossed into the waste basket against the wall. Moments after the janitor left, the attendant returned carrying another tray. She placed it on the mobile tray.

"I expect you to eat everything on this tray. If you don't, Doctor Maynard will probably insert a feeding tube. She glanced at the colorfully dressed woman.

"Make sure he eats everything."

Hotch rolled his eyes and exhaled through his mouth. He knew he couldn't bully Garcia about the food as he had the attendant. She would stuff the tray down his throat if need be.

"I'll make sure he eats everything including the tray if you want," Garcia said with an amused grin.

The attendant smirked. She liked this woman in the bright colored dress. "Just the food will do," she added. She started to leave when she noticed the stuffed bear and stared.

She glanced back at Hotch, and back to the bear. Lastly, she looked at Penelope, shook her head, amused, and left the room.

Alone again, Garcia removed the lid from the oatmeal. Yuck! She thought with a look at the bland cereal. But no matter what she thought, she didn't echo her sentiment aloud as it would not get her boss to eat. She picked up the plastic spoon, tore open the plastic wrapper, and held up the spoon. "Eat, boss-man," she ordered.

"I'm not hungry," Hotch explained.

"Oh no, sir. You don't get off that easy. Now eat. All of it." She saw her boss's reluctance. "You need to keep up your strength if you're gonna get well."

Hotch rolled his eyes again. "Garcia, I appre…."

"Don't make me hurt you…sir."

Hotch didn't respond. Instead, he sighed and looked away. But Garcia refused to be deterred.

"Sir, if you refuse to eat everything on this tray, I will have no choice but to call that adorable little boy of yours, and squeal on you. Do you want to set a bad example for Jackers?"

Hotch turned his stare on her. "You wouldn't?"

"Try me."

"You would." Hotch saw Garcia smirk at him, and knew his tech analyst had him exactly where she wanted. His weakness was Jack, his five-year-old little boy. Hotch understood the only way to get Garcia to stop pushing him to eat now, would be to hurt her feelings. And that was one thing he just could not, and would not do. Hotch ground his jaw, took the spoon from her, and ate a spoonful of the oatmeal. He stared at her hard as he made a face at the tasteless substance.

"Satisfied?" he asked.

"C'mon, sir. Keep going."

As Hotch forced himself to take another spoonful, Garcia opened the Styrofoam cup and fixed the tea. Finished, she removed the lids from the fruit cup and the apple juice. She sighed, and with both hands in her lap, she continued watching her boss eat. After a few more spoonfuls, the oatmeal was finished, and Hotch tossed the spoon onto the tray.

"Happy now?"

"No, sir." Garcia pushed the fruit cup closer. "I guarantee this tastes better than the oatmeal looked. Down the hatch, sir."

Hotch exhaled through his nose and picked up the plastic spoon again. He finished the contents of the fruit cup in less than five minutes.

"Good boy….uh, sir." Garcia pushed the apple juice closer. "Almost done, my liege. You can wash everything down with the apple juice."

With a sigh, Hotch drank the small container of apple juice. That left only the Styrofoam cup. He hated tea.

"That's okay, sir," Garcia said with a chuckle. "I know you're a caffeine fanatic. But since you don't have any, you can drink the tea at your own leisure."

Hotch continued to ignore the Styrofoam cup. Instead, his eyes fell on the shopping bag on the floor. He shuddered as he thought about what else she might have in there. He didn't have long to wait. Seeing his curiosity, she reached inside and removed a full handful of little trolls. They wore suits and dresses with different hair colors. She went about placing them on the mobile tray, the night table, and even sat one on his stomach.

Penelope chuckled. "There, sir. Now your room looks much more friendly and decorative." She turned the little female troll with hot pink hair in a bright red dress on Hotch's stomach so it faced him. "This is Betsy. She will watch over you day and night, and keep you company when Haley isn't here, or you're alone. She's also your personal bodyguard." Hotch winced hearing his wife's name, and fortunately Garcia missed it as she was reaching again into the bag, and removed another armful of different hair-colored trolls. She got to her feet, and after walking over to the window, proceeded to line them up on the window sill facing Hotch's bed.

"These guys will also keep an eye on you day and night, sir." The tech analyst turned away from the window and walked back toward the bed. She folded the shopping bag, and tucked it into her over-sized pocketbook. She then sat back down in the chair, and gripped Hotch's fingers so she wouldn't touch the IV in the back of his hand. "Has Jack been by to visit you yet, my liege?"

"He's supposed to come by this evening. I can't wait to see him. It's been too long and I miss him so much."

A small smile appeared. "I'm sure he misses his daddy just as much as his daddy misses him." She tilted her head to the side. "Sir, what's wrong? You can tell me."

Hotch arched an eyebrow. "Nothing's wrong. I'm just tired. Tired and bored. You know how much I hate hospitals."

"Don't think of it as being in a hospital, my liege. Think of it as a long overdue vacation."

Hotch snorted. "Yeah. A vacation with physical therapy. Just what I always wanted."

Garcia shook her head. "You are a grumpy thing this morning, sir. Is this how you are when you don't have your coffee?"

"You wouldn't by chance have a cup of black coffee in your pocketbook, would you? That thing's big enough to hold a whole pot."

"Sorry, sir."

Hotch sighed. "That's okay. Maybe I can con the doctors into letting me have coffee. I'm not a tea drinker." He glanced at the Styrofoam cup with a frown.

Garcia folded her arms across her chest and feigned anger. "Mon Capitan, if the doctors wanted you to have coffee they would give you coffee. They obviously don't want you to have any so you better behave yourself or I will ruin your personal credit history. So you better do what they tell you, mister, and don't make me hurt you." She glanced at her watch. "Oh, sir, I'm gonna be late! Oh, they're gonna kill me!" She jumped up, leaned close to Hotch, gave him a slight hug, and kissed the top of his head. "I'll come back later, sir! I promise! Tootles!" She nearly ran out of the room.

Hotch watched her disappear from the room. It amazed him how fast Garcia could move with those heels without losing her balance. He laid his head back on the pillow, and exhaled through his mouth. He was depressed and lonely again. As he looked around the room, he shook his head at all the trolls staring at him. His eyes fell on Betsy.

"What are you looking at?" he asked the troll knowing it wouldn't answer him. "What do you see when you look at me?" Too bad you can't talk.

He let out a deep breath. At least you didn't reject me, or tell me I'm not a real man. Face it, Hotchner. You're better off as the troll can't talk and tell you what she really thinks about you and what a loser you are.