Chapter 40

Rossi still suffered residual guilt over what had happened to Aaron Hotchner, and decided to make it his personal mission to see that Hotch recovered completely emotionally. And he swore to do so even if it permanently destroyed their friendship. Anybody else would have told him he was being ridiculous blaming himself for what happened, but he didn't see it that way. Not by a long shot. He had been the last to leave the office that night leaving Hotch there alone. If he had been there, he would have accompanied Aaron to the bar, and his friend might not have been slipped the date-rape drug. Or if he had, Rossi would have brought him to a hospital right away, and then home with him, and Hotch never would have ended up in that damned alleyway. For not doing any of that, Rossi would never forgive himself, no matter what anybody said. And it was this guilt that kept eating away at him day and night. He shook his head as he pulled open one of the Plexiglas doors and walked into the BAU.

The day went from bad to worse from Hotch's point of view. Fifteen minutes later, Hotch's depression hadn't improved. In fact, it seemed to have gotten worse. Once back in his room after his disastrous appointment with Amanda Carson, Hotch found himself being stared at by the two agents in his room.

"What the hell are you looking at?!" Hotch didn't realize he was raising his voice. His eyes hardened as he looked at one young agent. "You have something you want to say to me, agent?!"

"No, sir," the agent said nervously. He quickly wilted under the harsh glare from the older man.

"Good. Then I suggest you and your friend stop staring at me. I don't like it, and I'm not going to put up with it anymore! So you either can knock it off, or get the hell out of my room!" Not waiting for a reply, Hotch grabbed the television remote, and after turning on the television, stared at the screen not caring what was playing.

He was also struggling with other things, like how dare Amanda Carson refuse to sign his return-to-work papers! Who the hell did she think she was? He knew himself better than anybody, and didn't need her telling him how or what he should feel. But he understood he needed to come to terms with what happened to him if he had any hope of possibly returning to the BAU. But it was that impatience to return to the BAU. That and the denial of what had happened to him, which shoved his acceptance of things to the furthest part of his mind. What bugged him the most was a woman expecting him to talk about what he suffered. I'm sorry, Dave. I realized I made a promise. But I just can't do it. I can't talk about being raped and sodomized by a man with a woman, or anybody.

When JJ arrived at the hospital shortly following breakfast time, it was an irritable Aaron Hotchner who greeted her. But fortunately for her, she was prepared. A nurse had stopped her on her way to Hotch's room, and warned her that Agent Hotchner was in a bad mood. So she might want to reconsider visiting him right now. If JJ was anything, it was determined. No, she refused to change her mind. She had seen Hotch in plenty of bad moods at work, so how bad can his mood be this time? He needed his entire team, and they were going to be there for him no matter what. The blonde quietly pushed open the door and stuck her head inside the room.

"Hotch?" JJ said softly so as not to upset or startle her boss and friend.

Hotch didn't acknowledge her presence, or that he had even heard her. In fact, he didn't even glance in her direction. He kept his face turned away so as not to look at her. "JJ," he said flatly.

Uh oh, the blonde told herself. He was like this when Haley died. He's shutting himself off from me. Perhaps from all of us based on what little Rossi has told us. "I can come back later if now's not a good time for you."

Despite his bad mood, Hotch didn't want to upset or scare away the woman he considered his little sister. "It's okay. You can come in for a visit." He turned a harsh glare on the two agents. "Frankly, I'd rather look at you than these two smiling faces," he said sarcastically."

The two agents exchanged nervous looks between them, and glanced at JJ before they exited the room, relieved, and she entered. Now alone with her boss and friend, JJ sat down in the hard chair beside Hotch's bed. The older man turned off the television, and sat the remote beside the empty breakfast tray. But he still avoided looking at the blonde.

"How are you doing, Hotch?"

"Just peachy," Hotch replied, still sarcastic.

"Want to talk about it?"

"Not really." Hotch took a long moment before he replied to JJ's question. It wasn't that he didn't want to not answer her, but he was afraid to hear the answer she'd give him. He hoped by not looking at the woman, JJ would take the hint and leave. She didn't move an inch.

"Hotch? Please don't tell me you're blaming yourself for what happened?"

There it was. When he turned his head toward her, Hotch's deep brown eyes finally met her blue ones. "JJ, I really don't want to talk about it. Not with you. Not with anybody. Now I don't want to be rude, but can you please leave me alone?" He turned his head away again. But JJ had seen the pain etched in his eyes and on his face.

The blonde bowed her head for a briefly and sighed. When she looked up again, her eyes, bright with unshed tears, stared at the back of her boss's head. "If that's what you really want, Hotch, I'll leave. But before I go, I need to say something to you. I… that is, we won't let you blame yourself. We won't stand by and watch you self-destruct. You aren't to blame in any way, and I know you realize this. You had no way to predict what was going to happen."

"I wish I can believe that," Hotch said.

JJ's eyes narrowed as something just occurred to her. There was something else going on with her friend. But what? She put a hand on Hotch's good arm, and he tensed, but she was grateful he didn't pull away. She understood what she was prepared to say was risky given Hotch's current state of mind, but his emotional well-being made the risk worth it.

"Hotch, I know besides you blaming yourself, something else is bothering you. Please tell me. Perhaps I can help somehow."

A full five minutes went by in silence. During that time, Hotch squeezed his eyes tightly shut and muffled sobs were heard by JJ causing her heart to break for her boss. Hotch didn't deserve what happened. None of it. He was a good man who deserved only good things. The muffled sobs became slightly louder.

"Hotch….."

"JJ, please. I…I can't talk about it. I can't discuss it with you. Not with you. Not with anybody."

The media liaison sadly shook her head as she considered Hotch's words. It was killing her to see her normally stoic, in control boss so broken. So broken, so lost, and so scared. She pursed her lips. If Hotch won't talk with her, here's hoping Rossi can help him and that Doctor Carson, she told herself. With a sad smile, JJ stood up and looked down at Hotch. She patted his good shoulder.

"I should go, Hotch," she explained. "I'll visit you again when you're up to it." JJ turned and walked toward the door.

"JJ, wait…."

The blonde paused and turned with her hand on the door handle. "Hotch?" she asked seeing her boss's tear-streaked face now looking at her directly.

"I…I'm sorry. Please don't hate me."

JJ smiled affectionately at the man. "Hotch, there's no need to be sorry. And I could never hate you. Nor do the others. You didn't do anything wrong. Just remember that we're all here for you. And finally, you aren't on your own, Hotch, and we will get you through this. It's what families do for a member. Bye."

Hotch watched her walk out the door and close it behind her. He turned away again and closed his eyes. He didn't even react when the door opened again, and his two bodyguards returned.

As he needed to check on a few things before questioning the prisoner brought in the night before, Rossi walked into his office, sat down behind his desk, and paused. There, in the middle of his desk, sat a box wrapped in plain brown paper, addressed to David Rossi and the BAU. Rossi's eyebrows knitted together as he stared at the box, wondering what was inside it, and who might have sent it as there was no return address. To protect any fingerprints he doubted were there, he removed a pair of Latex gloves from an inside desk drawer. He then picked up the box and turned it around in his hands, examining it from every angle, with careful attention on the wrapping paper and finding nothing. He believed the box was too small to contain a bomb, but one could never be absolutely sure. Still, Rossi was confident the box did not contain an explosive device. He started ripping off the plain brown paper wrapping.

"One of your exes send you a present?" joked Prentiss as she stepped into the Senior Agent's office.

"I guess we'll soon find out," Rossi said as he continued to rip the wrapping paper. He suddenly paused and looked up at Prentiss, puzzled. "I thought you and Reid were gonna pay Doctor Caswell a little visit this morning?"

"We are a little later. The hospital says he isn't due in until this afternoon. We checked his home, and several other places he's been known to hang out, and he wasn't at any one of them. And he's not with his girlfriend either. In fact, we can't find him anywhere. But I asked Garcia to check and see if he has any other places he likes to hang out." Oh, Morgan left this morning on the earliest flight he could catch to Detroit. Said he'll call you before he heads back here. And JJ said not to be angry, but she went to see Hotch."

"Sounds good," Rossi replied as he finally managed to get the box open and froze.

"What is it?" Prentiss asked, now worried seeing his face change.

Rossi's eyes narrowed as he reached inside the box, and removed a white envelope on which was printed 'TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN.' But it was what lay under the envelope that caught his attention next. He removed a curly strand of blonde hair, and held it up for Prentiss to see as he examined it himself. "I have a sick idea as to whose head this came from," he said before placing it back in the box. He slid open the envelope, and removed a single sheet of paper.

"What does it say?" she asked.

"It says…NEXT TIME IT WILL BE A FINGER." He looked up at the woman and could tell by her eyes she was thinking the same thing he was. Their UnSub was sending a message to them and to Wheaton.

"That strand of hair is from Alana," Rossi explained. "Seems our friend is getting nervous, and is also telling us he's in charge."

Prentiss folded her arms across her chest. "Rossi, we have to find that little girl before this bastard decides he doesn't need her anymore."

"I know." The older agent stroked his goatee. "And we still haven't got anything on Hemminger or the good Doctor Caswell other than suspicion, or any idea who the Rohypnol rapist is, or where he's holding Alana Wheaton. Also, Hotch is still in danger." He looked up at Prentiss with a grim expression. "I told him the rapist is after him again. Needless to say he didn't take it very well. In fact, I just hope the news doesn't set him back."

"We can only hope for Hotch's sake."

With a new determination, Rossi put the note back in the envelope, and put it back in the box. He got to his feet. "I'm gonna drop these off at the lab and have 'em checked for prints even though I'm positive we won't find any. Then I'm gonna pay a visit to Garcia's office. When JJ gets back, she and I are gonna have a little talk with Agent Sizemore. But in the meanwhile, after I leave Garcia's, I'm gonna put the fear of God into our Mr. Scanlon. In terms of this rapist, it's time we get ahead of this jerk off and put an end to him completely."

Jason Hemminger swore loudly as he sat in the front seat of his green Datsun. He was parked in the parking lot outside a coffee shop near the hospital. He was drinking from a large Styrofoam coffee container. He was fuming. Fuming that he had been unable to successfully tamper with the slide connected to the swimming pool outside the Brooks' house the other night. Failing at that, he then tried to tamper with the chain to one of the swings of the swing set without success. Damn that sugar daddy of Hotchner's sister-in-law! Both the woman and her sugar-daddy had left the house, and stood on the front steps engaging in conversation. What did they possibly have left to discuss after several hours talking inside the house? Hemminger had no choice but to duck behind the foliage, and make his way to his car and drive away without accomplishing anything.

Unable to cause Hotchner's son to have an 'accident' on either the swings or the swimming pool slide, and Scanlon arrested, Hemminger was now at a loss. He had no idea as to what to do next to prove Hotchner was an unfit parent. Maybe I'll go back to the Brooks' house and wait and see if CPS shows. Who knows? I might get lucky and watch them taking Hotchner's screaming brat away from his aunt and his perverted daddy. Could be fun.

Now with a smirk on his face, Hemminger sat his coffee cup in its holder, started the car, and pulled out of the parking lot.

Hotch lay on his back, the head of the bed slightly elevated so he could sit up comfortably. He was tired of being flat on his back. It only reminded him of…no! He wasn't going to go there. His emotional state had been deteriorating slowly as the morning progressed. His depression was deepening, and he had no idea how to rid himself of this continuous feeling. And to make matters worse, he now added guilt over how he had treated JJ. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. The pounding behind his eyes was like the beating of a bass drum in his head.

Letting his arm drop listlessly back on the bed, Hotch let out a deep breath. She hadn't deserved his rude treatment when she made the time to come and visit. He chuckled, believing she even had, to him, a look of relief on her face when he ordered her to leave his room. JJ was just too nice a person to tell him to his face what she now thought of him. But that was okay because he already knew the truth. JJ blamed him; the others probably did as well. Dave he wasn't sure about yet.

Even the two agents in his room were now avoiding even looking at him. Hotch was already aware of how they felt about him and didn't really care anymore.

The door slowly opened and a blonde head peeked inside, looking in his direction. He turned his head to see who it was, but had no reaction when he saw it was Garcia. The two agents glanced at the tech analyst.

"Garcia, what are you doing here?" he asked flatly. "Shouldn't you be at the BAU doing whatever?"

Penelope hesitantly stepped further into the room. She watched the agents step out into the hallway, and closed the door behind them. Alone now, she focused her eyes on her boss.

"I asked Kevin Lynch to fill in for me for an hour or two while I came here. Sir, you look so down right now. Are you okay?"

Hotch mulled over her question as he studied her behind her red-framed eyeglasses. She was wearing a red, white and blue stripped dress with a short black jacket with a large saucer sized blue plastic flower pinned above her left breast. She also wore dangling black tear-drop earrings. Rings adorned her fingers, along with several bracelets on both wrists.

"Garcia, I'm very tired and wouldn't be good company right now."

But Garcia took a few steps forward despite Hotch's protests. "Sir, I spoke with JJ a little while ago." She pulled out the visitor's chair and sat down on it. "She's worried about you, sir. We all are."

"You don't need to worry about me. None of you do. I'm fine."

Garcia' lower lip trembled, and even behind her eyeglasses, the tears in her eyes was visible. "No you're not. You're not fine, Hotch. I may not be a profiler like you guys, but I know when someone is lying to me. And you, Mon Capitan, are lying to me."

If his thoughts had been clearer, Hotch would have called Garcia on her insubordination. But right now he just didn't care. In his opinion, he deserved to be called anything people wanted to call him, even his own teammates.

"Garcia, I told you I'm all right, so you…."

But the tech analyst cut him off before he could say anything else. "No, sir. You are going to listen this time. You are not all right at the moment. Well, not physically at the moment, but you're getting there. But emotionally you need help to be made whole again."

"I don't need help, Penelope," Hotch replied more sternly. "I told you I'm all right! I wish you and everyone else would just leave it alone!"

But Garcia was determined to stick to her guns after having spoken to JJ earlier. It was breaking her heart seeing this great man disintegrating before her eyes. She might not be as smart as Doctor Reid, but even Garcia realized Hotch was heading for a breakdown from which he might not recover.

"No, Hotch!" Garcia would never consider raising her voice to her boss and friend. But somebody had to get through to him and make him understand he needed professional help. "I'm sorry, my liege, but you are not all right. The Aaron Hotchner I know and love may not show much emotion, but he doesn't run from a challenge either. He faces them head-on because that's who he is. He also isn't rude to strangers, or push away people who love and care about him." Garcia paused to get control of her rampaging emotions. Her lower lip quivered and her voice shook as she continued after a few seconds. "Sir, we all understand. You were hurt, very badly, by someone who shouldn't be allowed to live among decent people. And if I had my way, after my Chocolate Adonis was finished with him, I'd make sure the body was never found. Or maybe I can see to it he's buried alive somewhere and never found." She looked a bit excited by that prospect. But a look at Hotch's seemingly shocked face ceased that line of thinking.

Hotch, despite his depressed state, had to chuckle. He understood his tech analyst was very protective of her team, her 'family', and that included him. Garcia might ramble on occasion, but never exaggerate or sugarcoat things, even to make somebody feel better. But she was honest with people.

Garcia leaned closer and put a hand on his good forearm. "Hotch, don't leave us. We need and love you. Also, we don't care what was done to you. What I mean is…we care about you. It's just that we would never think any less of you because of it. So don't you think less of yourself, or that you brought what happened onto yourself somehow. You didn't do anything to deserve what happened. You're a good, decent, and loving man, a great boss, and a great father to Jack. So if you don't come back to us, then come back to Jack. He needs his daddy as much as we need our liege. Please, sir."

Hotch was considering how best to respond to Garcia. He looked at his hands and played with his fingers. Unable to find the words, he kept his mouth shut. But after several minutes of silence he raised his head, and looked directly into Garcia's face, and saw no sign of her lying in them. Hotch looked totally miserable and defeated.

"Penelope, I'm sorry," he said softly.

She gave him a sincere smile despite the tears rolling down her cheeks. She ran her fingers beneath her eyeglass frames to wipe at her eyes.

"It's all right. Forget it. But sir, we all need you to talk to your shrink about everything that happened. It's the only way you're gonna work through it, get well, and come back to all of us."

Hotch remained silent for a few seconds. "I don't know if I can," he whispered, despondent.

"It's the only way, Hotch."

Hotch nodded slightly. "Okay," he whispered barely audibly.

Garcia jumped out of her seat, wrapped her arms around her boss's neck and hugged him mindful of his injuries. She was so excited by his response. In fact, she pressed her lips to his cheek.

"Now that's my Boss-man," she exclaimed happily. She pulled back and looked into his dark brown eyes. "And we'll all be beside you the whole time, Hotch. You'll see. We're all gonna get you through this, I promise."