Chapter 8

When Morgan heard that Strauss had called him into her office, he held off going for as long as he could.

Garcia met him in the hallway outside the office after the meeting.

"Did she?" she asked hesitantly.

He nodded, feeling torn.

"You're looking at the Acting Unit Chief of the BAU, but only until Hotch is found."

He leaned against the wall. "I didn't want it this way, Penelope." he said with a sigh.

Garcia frowned slightly, moving over to the wall, their shoulders touching.

"I know, I know you didn't want the role this way, but what if she went outside the team? Then Boss man might never get his job back when he returns. It's kinda good that she wanted you in the position, you know? Keep it in the team…plus you being the badass super-agent that you are my chocolate prince…with you in charge...we're bound to find Hotch any day now."

She turned to Morgan, eyes shiny with unshed tears but with a smile on her face; she nudged his shoulder playfully with hers.

"Come on, let's go tell the others."

"You were never much of a beer lover."

Hotch smiled and swallowed down the last of his whiskey as he looked around the packed bar.

"I don't mind beer...just wanted something a little stronger."

"Yeah, well you've already had five of the "little stronger", you puke in the truck, I'm gonna kill you." muttered Mason.

Hotch grinned as he gazed around the room searching for a flash of blonde.

Ever since they dumped the body in a river a town over a few days back Hotch found he was having dreams of a laughing blonde woman. He couldn't see her face but the anger he felt every time he thought of her made him curious. When he told Mason about it, his reply was a sly grin.

"You've broken a lot of hearts and bodies, brother. You're probably flashing back, that's all. You know that anger you feel? Hold onto it; it's empowering and will protect you if anyone decides to come after you."

"Come after me?"

"Yeah, remember...the FBI pigs?" replied Mason sarcastically, his eyes narrowing watching for Hotch's reaction.

Hotch's mind suddenly flashed to an image of two faceless men grabbing hold of him as he struggled, a fire blazing in the near distance, his face dropped, his dark eyes grew intense.

"No, I won't let anyone take me again."

"Good...good, glad to hear that. Looks like you need another drink, more whiskey?" Mason stood.

"Nah, I'll take a beer this time…but I'll get it." Hotch stood. "…and one for you too." he finished glancing down at Mason who had returned to his seat, a small smile on his face.

Hotch started towards the bar when a large drunken man bumped into him, the three beers the man was holding splashed onto Hotch's shirt as the mugs fell to the ground with a crash.

"Look what you made me do!" slurred the man. He shoved Hotch who was about to shove him right back when all of a sudden a blur whizzed by him.

It was Mason who was suddenly barreling into the unsuspecting drunk throwing him off his feet, landing punches that slammed the man's head into the ground. Hotch could hear soft grunts coming from Mason and could just make out some words.

"No one…

…touches….

….he's m'brother…

…no one touches him."

Hotch stood in shock for a moment, then stepped forward and pulled Mason off the unfortunate drunk.

"Okay...okay...enough." Hotch said, looking at the moaning, writhing, man on the ground whose face which was covered in blood, his nose most likely broken.

The crowd in the bar had grown silent and he could see two more very large drunk men making their way over.

Probably the idiot's buddies.

"Okay, Ali…time to go." Hotch turned towards the exit pulling a swaying laughing Mason with him.

"You look like hell."

It was the next morning and Hotch had his head down on the kitchen table, his eyes shut tight in pain.

"You shoulda just stuck with beer."

Hotch slowly sat up with a groan, swallowing multiple times trying to quell the continuing urge to throw up.

A bottle of Tylenol and glass of water were pushed towards him.

He glanced up at Mason who shrugged. "Don't say I never do anything for you."

Hotch shook two tablets out and swallowed them followed by some water.

"Thanks." he whispered. "For this...and for yesterday, looking out for me like you did. You should put some ice on that." he said pointing at Mason's bruised knuckles.

Mason glanced down at his hand and smiled remembering the thrill of the first punch; it worked out to his advantage, a "loyalty" box checked on the, that's-what-a-brother-would-do list that he kept handy in his mind.

"You've always watched out for me, ever since we were little and dad...well you know…thought I should return the favour." smiled Mason.

He noticed Hotch flinch slightly and he paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing then continued.

"Just wanted to say, I appreciate it."

A pained smile from Hotch.

No, Dad..I'm sorry!

Please, stop..stop!

Mason watched as Hotch's face turned a tinge of green.

"You gonna ralph, go do it in the crapper...not here."

Hotch slowly shook his head and swallowed heavily.

"Our father...hurt us? Hotch frowned as an image of someone standing over him, a belt in hand entered his mind.

Daddy issues huh? Thought Mason. Figures...let's see where I can take this.

"Some of your memory coming back, Cullen? Yeah the old man knocked us around; you got the brunt of it though. As I said, you've been watching out for me for a long time; but enough about that. I was thinking it's time again for a little more fun."

"You mean…" Hotch saw the grin on Mason's face. "So soon?"

"You never had a problem with that, before. Before, I'd have to get you to space out the fun; you were pretty much ready to go every day. I was thinking this time we'd have a little fun before we had our fun; if you know what I mean."

"Skin and screams, blood and bone." murmured Hotch, his expression flattening out.

"And sex...we gonna get us a hooker." grinned Mason.

-TBC-

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