A.N.- Thank you to literally anyone reading this story, it means a lot that people are willing to give it a chance (especially for a fandom of a show that ended!) I hope this next installation is good- let me know what you think, or if you want to see anything happen, etc. and I'll try to work it in! Also thank you to anyone who favorited, followed, and/or reviewed, it really does mean the world to know that there are people who actually want to read this, and it motivates me to continue.

As always, I still own nothing CM or CM-adjacent.

A memory long lost to Hotch bubbled back to the surface, he could hear his father's angry voice overlaid with Rossi's, "What the hell has this been about," and he could anticipate the pain he knew would be coming to him at the hands of a man who was supposed to love him, care about him, protect him.

Hotch was lost in a particularly vivid flashback, and Rossi could do nothing but watch as old terror swept over Hotch as the younger man looked around the room in a panic and let his limbic system dictate his next move.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Unfocused eyes blinked, Hotch's mind rapidly toggling between the present and the past, completely disorienting him to everything in his surroundings. One moment, he looked around the room and saw Rossi's office- couch, chairs, desk… The next moment he was back in his mother's house, hiding in his room, dreading the return of his father from work. For weeks, his father was working on a big, high profile case; it hadn't been going well, and young Aaron keenly felt his father's displeasure that commuted from the courtroom with him. He felt hands on his arms and tried not to flinch, knowing it would anger his father. He tensed, breath held, waiting for the first blow to hit. That was always the worst part; after that, there was no anticipation, just pain- and Aaron could lose himself in pain, easily. He had more than enough practice by now.

To his surprise, the expected blow never came. Instead, when his eyes next refocused, he realized that the hands on his arms were not his father's rough grasp, but rather Rossi's gentle grip. Hotch tried to remain in the moment, to avoid another flashback as he was filled with familiar feelings of self-loathing for showing he was weak. His father had always hated that, had told him he wasn't a man for showing fear, and that he was willing to fulfill his paternal duties by showing Hotch how to not be a pansy. Once again finding himself needing to reorient to the present, he took several deep breaths to try and pull himself together, refusing to think about how he was going to explain this… incident to Rossi. He knew deep down that the older man wouldn't care, he had never cared about such things in the past. Quite the opposite, actually- he instead encouraged Hotch to feel everything instead of bottling it up. The exact opposite of Hotch's biological father.

But that was back in the days before Rossi's retirement, far before Hotch was promoted to Unit Chief, and he was supposed to be strong for his team, damn it. He couldn't show any sign of weakness with them. Despite the look of concern in Rossi's eyes, Aaron couldn't show him any weakness either. After all, he was the boss and, well, he still wasn't sure if the man was his mentor or former mentor; which one it was would dictate the level of professionalism he held himself to whilst navigating feelings. That itself was enough to keep him feeling off-balance and on edge, jaw clenched painfully tightly as he fought to maintain his stoicism. He almost wanted to ask the older profiler which he was, mentor or former mentor, except he thought the answer would be too painful to hear. Not to mention it would confirm to the man he respected that he himself, Hotch, was too weak to be in command. And if- since- the other man didn't want to be Hotch's mentor anymore, he felt a little guilty, vulnerable, and weak for this particular display of emotion. He tried so hard to remain impassive, he knew not to show emotion like that; it was literally beaten into him as a child. Not to mention he felt like a fool- why did his brain have to remind everyone that he was damaged, wasn't his little… incident on the plane enough proof? Could he act like an adult instead of a petrified child for a moment?

The answer was apparently not, as he choked on air, his tense frame gasping for oxygen as his mind fought to pull him into another flashback. He tried to push the intruding memory away, his body nearly trembling with the force of his effort to try and remain stoic. There was no way he could shrug this off; no way to write it off as just taking a breath at the wrong time, setting off a coughing fit. There really was no way to disguise it, and Hotch knew that even if there was, he couldn't lie to Rossi. Sure, he might have tried, but when had that ever worked on the older profiler? In fact, usually it just ended with Aaron in more trouble than before; not like that had ever dissuaded him from trying, though. He was a man of many talents- of which self-preservation was not one.

Well, that was if Dave still wanted to deal with him at all; he was pretty sure the older man didn't, so all he should be worried about was a subordinate seeing a moment of weakness.

… Right?

-o-o-o-o-o-

It actually physically pained Rossi to watch Hotch as he struggled with the past; he wanted nothing more than to help Aaron, but this was an unfamiliar dance. It shouldn't have been unfamiliar; Hotch should have known he still answered to Rossi. But the younger profiler seemed determined to ignore that fact, refute it to himself. It wasn't like Dave didn't know why- Hotch was his kid after all, and he knew a large part of his protege's current desire to push away help came from a misguided knowledge of what a leader was supposed to be. Not like he could blame Hotch, really, because he couldn't. He had gone and retired, leaving the younger man with Gideon as Unit Chief; Jason had always been sensitive, emotional, and it worked for him given his consistent rate of success in solving the hardest cases and cracking the toughest Unsubs in interrogation. Until it didn't work for him, and cases started wearing on him until he had to leave, he couldn't do the job anymore. Sure, he came back a few months later, by which time Hotch had become Unit Chief in his stead and so Jason was more than happy to re-integrate into the team as Senior Agent instead of the big boss. Seeing what the job did to Jason, Rossi knew, forced Hotch to take the direct opposite approach; he distanced his emotions from any case, preferring to wear a mask of unaffectedness. Dave knew that was what the younger man had always preferred, though he didn't used to tamp down his emotions quite so completely. The mask of complete indifference worried him, not only for Hotch's sake- teams tend to take cues from their leaders, and Rossi really wanted to make sure he didn't end up with a team of screwed up kids trying to hide any sign of being affected by the horrors they saw daily. He supposed the team was already comprised of screwed up kids, and he almost wanted to pinch the bridge of his nose thinking about that. At the very least, he decided, he would try to be an emotional buffer for the team. First up would be that Reid kid who idolized Hotch, trying to mold his behavior after that of the Unit Chief. Despite his best efforts to be Hotch-like in the face of the horrors they saw and words slung at him by unsubs, he struggled to retain the same blank emotional mask his leader did. And, considering Reid's previous role model was Gideon, this way of handling emotion was a complete about-face. The kid looked off-kilter, but Dave forced all thoughts of the lanky kid and the rest of the team out of his mind for the moment; he needed to focus all his attention to the screwed up kid already sitting in front of him.

As he watched Hotch struggle for air, he made an executive decision- to hell with giving Hotch space, it clearly wasn't working. He didn't know why he had even tried in the first place; his kid had never been great with all-encompassing emotion. The case had gone well, despite some of Hotch's more bone-headed moves, but Rossi had correctly surmised early in the case what the Unit Chief's problem was, after the third questionable decision Hotch had made regarding his safety. Remembering that the kid had made even more questionable safety decisions after that reignited the anger in Rossi, an anger born from fear. Knowing that he couldn't show Hotch any of that anger- it would just make things so, so much worse, he pushed that track of thought to the side for the moment. Instead, to hell with personal space, Dave found himself standing up and walking towards the kid, gently pulling him up from his seat and into a gentle hug that he held for a good while. It worked for a number of reasons; gentle pressure tended to relax a high-strung nervous system, for one. It also showed Hotch that Rossi still cared for him, which Dave suspected would go a long way in getting the younger man to drop his emotional walls.

From there, Rossi played it by ear- he wasn't a stranger to Hotch's panicked moments. Very shortly after bringing the younger profiler onto the BAU, Dave found himself caring for the kid with a fierceness he wasn't expecting. He knew Hotch had more than his fair share of demons, and he firsthand witnessed the lasting effects of Hotch's brutal childhood, not to mention the horrors they saw regularly as FBI agents working some of the most gruesome cases. He knew the kid had night terrors as well sometimes, he learned that after the early BAU's budget meant doubling up on hotel rooms. Hotch had, of course, been totally and completely mortified. Rossi mostly just wanted to hug him as he was doing now, though unlike now, he typically refrained from doing so- Hotch wasn't really a hugger. After the worst cases, though, Rossi had showed him that it was okay to sometimes let his guard down and acknowledge the pressure of his feelings bottled inside him. There had been more than one night in the past where Aaron had broken down at his desk when he thought no one else was around. The cases that led his protege to that state were typically the cases with abused kids, especially kids that Hotch saw his younger self in far too easily.

Like this case, which meant Rossi was kicking himself for not seeing this coming. It was the type of case Hotch had always reacted to most poorly- a father abusive towards his sons. This case was particularly gruesome, too; the Unsub had brutally murdered his wife and two children by beating them to the point where they were beyond recognition. Hotch had thrown himself into the case, and it wasn't hard for Rossi to see why; he didn't know what Hotch's mother looked like but the kids- one with short, dark hair and the other with slightly shaggier, sandy brown hair- were dead ringers for Hotch and his brother Sean. From the second he saw the initial crime scene photos, he had worried about Hotch, but it wasn't like he was in any position to pull him off cases anymore; he couldn't even offer to take the lead, giving Hotch the out (not that he would ever take it, both men knew that.) He was too new to the team still for Hotch to have felt comfortable with that type of arrangement. Besides, Hotch had never been good at asking for help, instead preferring to drag himself through, in Rossi's opinion, unnecessary pain. All in all, Dave felt like was stuck having to watch Aaron unravel, unable to do much of anything about it.

And Hotch unraveled. Fast. At first it was small things: using a tone Rossi would have never accepted from him, being a little too abrupt with a witness, decking a guy who was chasing them despite easier ways to take him down without the use of hand-to-hand combat where he ended up with a black eye. Things that, in the past, would have gotten him a sharp word, maybe a few swats from Rossi or a few minutes thinking quietly in the corner. But Dave hadn't reined the younger profiler in, unsure of the new dynamic that existed. Hotch was his boss, now, and the BAU worked cases as a team rather than individually. Hell, Hotch had even chewed him out the first case back, using a tone Rossi wouldn't have accepted from him in the past, however warranted the conversation had been (and he had to acknowledge it was warranted, but that was neither here nor there.) He should have checked the kid's behavior then, instead of allowing it to fester. Because, Rossi realized with a sudden sharp clarity, that was when Hotch had begun to spin out.

How could I be so damn stupid? he thought, castigating himself for not noticing sooner. If he had… well, maybe Hotch wouldn't have scared years off Dave's life that day with the hostage negotiation. With some chagrin, he realized that he really was partially to blame. He abandoned his parental duties in an attempt to not stir things up. Hotch had a point when he chewed him out, and Dave didn't want to disrupt the team dynamics more than they had already been with Gideon's sudden departure and Dave's sudden arrival. Almost audibly groaning in response to his belated epiphany, he realized that the tone Hotch took with him during that first case was the kid pushing to see where the line was. Or rather, Rossi thought, If there was a damn line at all. He continued his internal groan as the rest of the pieces fell into place. Hotch had been pushing him the entire time, trying to see if Rossi still cared, and Rossi had failed the kid's test. Miserably. However, he intended to rectify that, thoroughly. By the end of the night, Dave thought grimly, Hotch will know exactly how much he still means to me.

With that thought, and the realization Aaron was breathing normally again, Dave pulled back from the hug and debated his next move. If Hotch had been pushing to see if Dave still cared like he once had, Dave wasn't going to deny him the full show. He quickly decided to respond like he used to, the familiarity of the plan almost comforting; he wasn't in uncharted waters anymore. He had a feeling Hotch wouldn't think it was so comforting, at least not at surface level. But Rossi was willing to bet that, on some deeper level, the kid also found the familiarity comforting. Or at least he hoped that was the case, because his entire half-thought-of-on-a-plane-hugging-a-panicked-Hotch plan was contingent upon it.

Because the kid knew what he should expect, and from the way Hotch had been acting he was expecting this routine. Ever since Rossi's first case back with the BAU. Sighing internally, Dave realized that detangling this would be a long process. He didn't mind though, not at all. Hotch was always worth it.

But that meant he had to man up and get the first part of the night's unpleasantries out of the way. As always when he had to discipline Hotch, he felt the start of self-hatred creeping up into his psyche and, as always, shoved down those feelings. He wasn't like Hotch's biological father, he wasn't an abusive asshole to his son. He didn't beat him for no reason but boredom, or to take his anger out on something. He didn't beat him at all, and he knew that the pain he would inflict on Hotch's backside was for the younger man's own good; it would hopefully discourage the same reckless decisions from being made in the future. Besides, Hotch had all but screamed that he was waiting for this. Grimly, Rossi thought to himself, who am I to deny him?

He noticed Hotch's expecting stare, waiting for his sentence. Very little time had actually passed when Rossi had been lost in his own thoughts, but he had no doubt that Aaron had felt those few moments as the longest in his life; he never was much good with patience, a trait the entire team seemed to share based on their penchant for going after unsubs with no backup or any decent plan at all. Again, he pushed thoughts of the rest of the team aside; he'd worry about them later, and fleetingly wondered when they had all creeped into his heart. Redirecting his attention solely on Hotch, he had to bite back a smile when he realized the younger man was barely resisting squirming under Rossi's gaze.

He softened a little, knowing how hard all this was for Hotch, it always had been. Pitching his voice low again, aiming for something somewhat soothing despite his words, which were clearly an order, "I need to finish up my case report. You need to go occupy a corner and think about what you did this last case that was irresponsible and/or reckless."

"Really, Dave?" Hotch had managed to collect himself enough to throw his emotional barriers up as far and as fast as he could, his voice having returned to its normal state; it seemed like a knee jerk reaction though, based on how quickly his eyes flew back to the ground. Still, Rossi waited a moment to see if the kid would relent and do as told, or if he would stubbornly refuse as he was currently doing. After a moment, Dave decided Hotch was unlikely to continue on his own, and so he spoke instead.

"Yes, really. Go. Now." It was an unmistakable order, and Dave hoped the kid would come to his senses. But Hotch never did anything by halves, and so he wasn't entirely surprised when Hotch spoke next.

"No."

Rossi sighed, knowing that Hotch was still pushing him to see what he would do, how far he would go. How similar it'll be to the past, he mused, and it made perfect sense; this had all been about Hotch trying to see if Dave was the same father figure as he'd been in the past, really. "I'd reconsider that answer," he said, the words coming automatically; this wasn't unfamiliar, and he could think of countless other incidences where he'd said the same thing to his surrogate son.

"I don't need to reconsider. I said no."

Time to fall back on the past, Rossi thought as he spoke next, "I'm sure you remember how I feel about you telling me no and disobeying me."

Hotch had enough self preservation to duck his head, at least, a bright red flush creeping onto his face. But still, he repeated, "No."

"Do you need help getting to the corner?" Dave asked, though it was a loaded question. Hotch knew exactly how he would "help" direct him, and Rossi waited to see if the younger man would acquiesce or if he was going to play this as far as he could.

The answer, it seemed, was the latter as once again he repeated, "No," without moving a muscle except to scowl at Rossi.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Hotch was pissed at himself, feeling out of control as he refused to obey Rossi's command. It's not that he wanted to disobey per se, but he found himself unable to follow the older man's orders. It felt like he wasn't the one moving his body, not the one speaking, almost. And it was a feeling that was absolutely terrifying to Hotch, who quickly found himself nearly falling apart again.

Everything was too confusing. First, Rossi hadn't given a damn what Hotch did, and he had almost come to accept the fact that the man no longer wanted to be his mentor (he still couldn't admit to himself that his relationship with Rossi surpassed mentor and was something instead very much like what Hotch had imagined normal father-son relationships to be like.) Now, Rossi was pretending like he cared again, and that was destabilizing his tenuous hold on accepting the new relationship between the men. He didn't know which one it was- did Rossi actually care? Maybe, Hotch thought, maybe Rossi was just pretending to care again so that the younger man would start to conduct himself in a manner more befitting of a Unit Chief. After all, Hotch's poor decisions hurt the whole team- maybe Rossi was just trying to minimize future damage?

But if that was all he cared about, would he have hugged Hotch the way he did earlier when he was in the throes of a flashback? Or kept the nightmares at bay on the plane for as long as he did? But then again, he hadn't seemed to care much personally when Hotch did something exceptionally reckless during this last case. But… he looked like he wanted to say something, maybe? But maybe he didn't actually want to say anything he used to in those types of moments; words about how Hotch couldn't do something dangerous, he wasn't allowed to risk his life. Maybe, maybe Dave was concerned only with the fact that the team would be down a member if he hared off and got himself killed. Maybe there was nothing personal about it now. But then again, Rossi had instructed him to come to his office, he hadn't just yelled at him from the doorway about some boneheaded stunt. And, Hotch had to admit, he doubted Rossi would tell just anyone to go stand in a corner. But what if Rossi was only doing that because he knew Hotch would, because of their history? Maybe he was just waiting to finish his paperwork to yell at Hotch.

Yes, that was the likely explanation. He just didn't want Hotch leaving until he could ream him for being a terrible Unit Chief.

His realization, however, did not mean that he was acting any less possessed, watching almost in curiosity as Rossi responded to his final assertion of "No." The older man pushed himself up from where he had been leaning on his desk, calmly walked over to Hotch, and in a matter of seconds had pulled Hotch up by the shoulder and was pushing him towards the corner. Hotch remembered what Rossi's "help" in getting to the corner looked like, and wasn't surprised when a moment after he found himself situated in the corner, he felt a stinging sensation across his backside. He heard the smacks too, but they felt far away as he remained stuck in his own head.

Rossi's voice felt almost distant too, and Hotch only minimally registered the message of "Now, stay in this corner while I finish my report, and think about the unacceptable stunts you pulled on this last case" before the older man went back to sitting at his desk, leaving Hotch standing in the corner.

The stupid, awful corner. The corner of this office that Hotch was intimately familiar with; it had been Dave's office from when the BAU moved out of the "bunker" until his retirement, and Aaron had frequently found himself staring at it. He was more reckless as a younger agent, had a sharper tongue and an even worse sense of self preservation. Needless to say, he had become accustomed to staring at the junction of these two particular walls. Then Dave had retired, and for some reason Jason decided that he wanted to move offices instead of just staying in his; something about a better window for bird watching, or some equally Gideon-like reason. Though he found himself in trouble with Gideon far less frequently than with Dave (in part because Jason didn't care quite as much, and in part because Hotch didn't feel the need to push Gideon quite as much as he had Dave,) it wasn't like his tenure with this corner had ended with Dave's retirement. There were more than a few instances, especially in the months immediately following the retirement of Hotch's mentor, that Jason had hauled him into his office immediately after returning from a case and placed him in the corner to "calm down." Hotch, more often than not, got himself worked up in the corner instead of calming down, at least initially.

This time was no different. The familiarity of the walls almost comforted Hotch for a moment until his brain caught up again; didn't he just determine that Rossi only wanted him in the corner so he could make sure he wouldn't slip away before he could be chewed out by the older agent? But… as much as the thought made him blush, Hotch wondered if the fact that Rossi had finally spanked him meant that the other man actually did still care, because you wouldn't do that to someone you just wanted to be quiet until you were able to yell at them. Right? He wanted to turn his head to glance at Rossi, see if he could profile what the older man was thinking, but refrained from doing so, knowing how Dave in the past had considered that to be a sign of disobedience. The conflicting thoughts continued to agitate him as he shifted on his feet in the corner, pain and anguish unknowingly written across his face as he tried to mentally detangle the situation.

-o-o-o-o-o-

The kid was doing his hardest to make him feel like a colossal asshole, Rossi concluded (halfheartedly, because he knew Hotch wasn't even aware of the miserable array of emotions he was projecting.) He truly wanted nothing more than to let the kid out of the corner, hug him, and maybe give him a good dinner- the kid was looking a little thin. But he knew Hotch, sometimes better than Hotch knew his own self, and he knew that right now the younger agent needed the sense of security coming from firmness. Still, Dave found himself rushing to complete his report. It was hardly his greatest work, but it wouldn't flout Erin's standards and they could all avoid her wrath.

Looking up as he packed the last of his things into his briefcase, he noticed that Hotch's frame was still tense; clearly, the time spent in the corner didn't make him repentant. Well, one could hope, right? He wasn't really expecting the corner to make that much of a difference, not when Aaron was like this. He, however, was not expecting that the corner would wind the younger man this much. Once again he briefly wondered if he was doing the right thing by treating Hotch the same as years ago; maybe this was just a preview for how the younger profiler would react to everything Rossi had planned. Or, more likely, Rossi mused, it was just him dragging his feet, afraid of hurting Aaron. Then again, he remembered, his lack of action last time seemed to prompt this particular episode of self-destructive behaviour rather than curtail it. He needed to get over his reservations and find the confidence he needed, it wasn't fair to Hotch that he give him anything different than what he was originally planning. Still, Dave didn't have to like the intended events of the evening. He did, however, have to start; it wasn't fair to make Hotch wait that long either. He sighed internally, readying himself for the long night ahead, and gave himself a moment to breathe, because he had a feeling Aaron was going to fight him every step of the way.

Well, except for leaving the corner. He was pretty sure that Hotch would readily agree to that, and proved himself correct as he softly called to Hotch, releasing him from the mandated time in the corner. The kid startled when Dave spoke at first, and he wondered what the younger man had actually been thinking about in the corner, because he doubted that Hotch's recollection of this past case would pull him that deep into his own thoughts. Hell, he doubted Hotch even thought about what Dave had instructed him to. He leaned on the front of his desk and crooked his fingers to signal the younger man; Hotch looked wary as he approached the older profiler, which Rossi supposed was justified considering the "help" he provided in helping the kid to the corner initially. Once Aaron was standing in front of him, Dave continued, "Okay kid, you're coming home with me tonight. Do you have everything from your office that you need?"

Despite having already informed Hotch of this earlier in the evening, the younger man still seemed surprised at his decree. That set Dave on edge a little, because the look on Aaron's face was suspiciously similar to the skeptical looks that he had gotten when he first took the younger man under his wing and told him that he cared about him. That fact quickly caught up to his theory, giving him more evidence that he was correct in thinking that Hotch was unsure of his place in Dave's life. Regardless, Aaron slowly nodded as he stared at the older man with puzzlement written all over his face, and Dave realized that the night was going to be even longer than he initially foresaw. Hell, no one could, in one night, fix the amount of damage he had inadvertently done- this was an uphill battle, and it would take a while for Dave to get Hotch used to the idea that he was still cared about.

"Alright," Rossi said, giving the kid a once over- Hotch looked miserable, like sleeplessness and anxiety had worn through his last defenses. He jerked his head towards the door before making his way over to it, locking it behind them as the two men exited the bullpen and then the building. Hotch, for his part, was compliant. Wary, but still compliant, and Rossi wanted to praise the kid for that but couldn't figure out how to do so without Hotch finding it terribly embarrassing. Then again, that had never stopped him in the past, though the younger Hotch was so eager for Rossi's praise, more than the current Hotch was likely eager for it. Still, he offered a quiet "Thank you for not fighting me on this" with a small, genuine smile, and internally grinned when he saw Hotch duck his head in embarrassment, hiding the small, pleased smile on his face, again reaffirming to Rossi that he was doing the right thing. Realizing that he really needed to stop doubting himself if he wanted to help Hotch through this rough patch, he strengthened his resolve to continue following his gut as they pulled out of the parking garage.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Hotch, for his part, kept his head down and quiet the entire way back to Rossi's place. The ride over was giving him a massive sense of deja vu, having taken this same trip with an equally irate Rossi many, many times ago in the past. He wanted to let himself hope that this time would be much the same, and would end with an absolution of guilt and the comfort of the older Italian. He felt silly, childish and small for wanting those things, thinking he didn't deserve them or that, as Unit Chief, he was unable to accept them. His mistakes were firmly his, and he'd have to live with that. As much as he wanted the same comforts he was allowed in the past, he wasn't a rookie agent anymore, and he needed to conduct himself as such. His resolve was fully strengthened by the time they reached Rossi's expansive property.

Until they got inside, that is. Because once inside, Rossi's next move completely knocked Hotch off-balance and rapidly made him reconsider his worldview when it came to Rossi no longer caring for him. Because the instructions to go change into something more casual than his suit included the words, "You should still have some clothing up there," making Hotch's eyes widen and his heart simultaneously soar and plummet. This was yet another action in a stew of mixed signals, and Hotch didn't know what to do with that knowledge. So he went up to one of the guest rooms, the room that used to be unofficially his. Countless trips to the same room- being told to change, being grounded, when he was sick and Rossi ordered him to bed, when Rossi was being unusually gentle with him and even went so far as to basically tuck the younger profiler in- made the trip muscle memory, which was fortunate because Hotch was once again lost in a confusing array of thoughts and emotions, hopes and fears.

Still on autopilot, Hotch closed the door to his old room and locked it, looking around. He was surprised to see nothing had really changed; the room looked exactly the same as it once did. Following that logic, he pulled open a drawer of the dresser- sure enough, a handful of pairs of jeans and flannels, plus a handful of tees and sweatshirts were all still in there. Hotch grabbed a pair of flannel pants and a t-shirt, before snagging a sweatshirt after a moment's consideration. He didn't realize which sweatshirt he had grabbed until he was putting it on; he had grabbed an old FBI sweatshirt that he had "borrowed" from Rossi years ago. Though he knew it was silly and childish, the sweatshirt had always made him feel safe, and the profiler in him knew that he didn't just randomly grab that particular sweatshirt. Still, he didn't want to dwell on those feelings, feeling the need to prepare himself to be emotionally closed off again. Rossi still having his stuff meant nothing, even if it was still in "his" old room; maybe the older man just forgot about the items of clothing, or maybe he couldn't figure out what to do with them. It didn't mean he still cared, as much as Aaron hoped that would be the reason for retaining his belongings and not changing his- no, not his, but the- old room at all. Once he felt like his emotional walls weren't about to crumble, he stood up from where he was seated at the edge of his- the- bed, and took a deep breath as he prepared to face Rossi's wrath over his more stupid stunts.

Padding back downstairs, Hotch quickly located Rossi in the kitchen with a glass of scotch, and a fresh wave of guilt hit him as he noticed how tired the older man looked. It wasn't fair that Hotch was ruining his night off, he could use the break- the entire team could use a break, after the last case they handled. But instead of letting every member of his team rest, Hotch was at Rossi's, ruining the man's chance of some relaxation before the next case called them into the office.

"I should," his voice faltered before he strengthened his will, "I really should go, Dave. You deserve a break after this last case, we all do. I'll get out of your hair, but I appreciate all you've done," he said, a steady stream of words as he backed his way towards the door, the idea of shoes totally forgotten in the tidal wave of guilt that had hit him. He started close to the door, but didn't realize he had actually backed his way outside until two things hit him. First, his feet were cold. Second, Rossi very quickly caught up to him, one eyebrow dangerously raised.

"Are you trying to evade consequences, Aaron," he asked the younger man in a quiet, steely voice.

Hotch almost broke down there; he was trying to do the right thing, he really was, but everything he did seemed to be the wrong thing to do, and now Rossi was angry again. Wanting nothing more than to correct Rossi's misinterpretation of the situation- trying to evade punishment was childish, not to mention that he actually felt badly about all that had happened, and wanted- no, needed, desperately- to affirm to Rossi he was planning no such thing. "No Dave, no!" his voice came out in a panicked rush, the quality of it making the man internally flinch- he sounded desperate even to his own ears, "That's not it at all! It's just this last case was brutal, and the entire team deserves a break. You don't deserve having to put up with me and deal with my stupid mistakes. I am sorry, I promise. Rest assured I will think through my decisions more in the future. Have a good night, Dave," he said, impressed with the quality of his voice, which didn't reflect the feelings of fear and guilt that were threatening to consume him.

Dave gave him a funny look then, head slightly cocked to the side as he studied Hotch for some reason unbeknownst to the younger man. Despite saying he was leaving, Hotch found himself stuck to the ground in front of Rossi, squirming as the man said nothing but instead seemed to see right through Hotch's defenses.

Finally, the other man spoke, a simple "No" that booked no room for argument. Hotch was about to open his mouth, enraged and ready to go on a tirade, when Rossi held his hand up in a 'stop' gesture. "No, you're not leaving," he said again. "You, however, will go find a corner and you will stand there until I tell you otherwise. Got it?"

Hotch bit his lip, considering his options. He could be more mature and just do as Rossi said. But still something in him felt the need to fight back, to see if the line was where it always was or if he'd have to learn a new routine. Maybe Rossi cared a little, but not as much as he once did; maybe he was willing to be some of what he used to be to Hotch, but would avoid the full extent of caring for the younger man. Not like Hotch could blame the older man, really. Aaron knew his flaws, and he was surprised Rossi had cared about him as a junior agent despite all those flaws. But those flaws were now deadlier, far less excusable. They weren't anything that could be fixed with some time spent in the corner, a few smacks, and then a hug. So Rossi's decree that he better find himself a corner seemed pointless, and he said as much to the older man.

Apparently unimpressed, Rossi had taken a few steps forward, spun the younger man around, landed a half dozen swats to his backside (and Hotch really didn't remember it hurting that badly in the years since he had come to his senses and stopped acting out at work,) and gently nudged him back through the door, into the house, and towards a corner. "Go," he said, his tone leaving no room for any of Hotch's objections. Not that he wanted to object, anyways- everything was catching up with him, and he felt tired. Everything still seemed to reinforce his confusion, but another half dozen sharp smacks to the seat of his pants made him momentarily forget his confusion while he scurried to the corner, trying to avoid any further damage to his ass. Fat chance, but a man could dream, right?

-o-o-o-o-o-

The kid had finally done what Rossi instructed, he realized as he entered the living room to see his protege shifting on his feet in a corner. He wasn't planning on leaving the kid there that long, but after his half-hearted escape attempt fueled by what Rossi knew to be very real guilt, Dave knew that at least having the younger man stand in the corner would curtail any other escape attempts he had planned.

At least the guilt seemed to catch up with him, if his dejected posture in the corner was any indication. It wasn't as if Dave liked seeing the younger profiler looking so forlorn, but he was secretly relieved that Hotch was able to see the error of his ways, at least partially. It was harder to have to convince someone their actions were wrong when they thought it was completely justified. Then again, Dave mused, Hotch very likely never believed his actions to be completely justified. Instead, he hid his uncertainty and fear behind anger and weak justifications for his actions.

It was all about testing to see if Dave cared. And, though he had failed the younger man's earlier tests, the more experienced profiler planned on rectifying his protege's misconceptions, pronto. By the end of the night, he intended for Aaron to know that he still had a prominent place in Dave's life, including consequences for when he spun out. He glanced at his watch, noting how late it already was; he knew that they were in for a long night, and he was beyond grateful for the fact that it was Friday- barring any extremely urgent cases, the two men would be able to sleep in the following day. Rossi was also very aware of the fact that one night would not fully repair his protege's psyche, and knew that they were likely in for a long weekend. Grimly, he tucked the heavy hairbrush he had procured behind a pillow on the couch and strengthened his resolve. It was always in these minutes that he panicked- what if this time, his correction hurt Hotch just as his abusive biological father had hurt him? Knowing he had no room to entertain such notions and do right by the kid, he took a few deep breaths and steeled himself for what was to come.

"Alright," Rossi said, thoroughly not looking forward to the next… Well, the amount of time it would take largely depended on the attitude Hotch would take, he figured, "Come here" he said, but made no move to stand up from the sofa himself.

Hotch looked like he couldn't decide if he was almost happy to leave the corner or if he would have preferred it to what he knew would come next; whichever it was, he regardless made his way to Rossi in a timely manner without fighting, a clear sign that he did regret the actions that led them to this moment. "Over the sofa arm?" he surmised, staring at the ground, again betraying his feelings of guilt to the older profiler.

"Not this time kiddo," Rossi responded, trying to keep his voice gentle in deference to Hotch's known hatred of what those words implied. Sure enough, he watched as Hotch's head flew up to give him pleading eyes, and the younger man took a few steps back, to Rossi's slight- very slight- amusement. The younger man opened his mouth, presumably to argue, but Dave held his hand up in a 'stop' gesture, effectively cutting off any protest. He almost felt bad, knowing how much Hotch detested being put over his knee, but he needed Hotch to feel like this was personal; he needed to know, in no uncertain terms, that Rossi still cared about him as family, not just as a colleague. Plus, earlier experience had told him that despite how Hotch might feel about the childish position…

"After earlier this evening? Not a chance in hell kid." Dave knew his protege would know exactly what he meant by that. Sure enough, Hotch flushed, looking like he was about to start arguing with Rossi. No doubt the younger man was still embarrassed from any number of moments previously that evening that Dave knew his words would have elicited.

Sure enough, Hotch did know exactly what Dave meant, but was unwilling to acquiesce. "I'm a grown man, Dave," he ground out through clenched teeth instead.

"Sure you are," Rossi agreed easily, because it was mostly the truth, though sometimes Aaron apparently threw caution to the wind and reverted back to a tantruming toddler. Not today, though; Hotch didn't look like he was about to throw a tantrum, but he also looked like he was ready to put his old lawyer skills to good use arguing with Dave. "But you still were reckless today, you put your life in danger, and you know I can't ignore that. And, well, I don't think it's the safest option for you to bend over a table right now."

-o-o-o-o-o-

Hotch wanted to be angry, he really did, but instead he couldn't decide what he was feeling. Part of him was relieved at Dave's sentencing- and part of him was still angry, another part uncertain yet, and a few other unidentified emotions bothered him as well. However, anger seemed to win out- the easiest of his tangled emotions. "Safe?" he tried to laugh coldly, though he didn't think he was all that successful at the task. "Dave, we get shot at. Regularly. I don't think you have to concern yourself with my safety during…" He trailed off, still embarrassed after all these years to even say the word out loud. The rest of the sentence, he figured, Dave could easily surmise. He dropped his head as he was saying it, fully staring at the floor by the end of it.

Hotch could hear his mentor's sigh. "This isn't about that, and you damn well know it," he said, sounding tired. At least he seemed to not be truly angry at Hotch's balking, though both men knew he wasn't pleased, either.

And Hotch did know. He really, really knew. And was acutely reminded of why as his mind pulled him into another memory- albeit a less traumatic one.

A.N.- What a rush; seriously, I've been writing fanfiction for at least half of my life, and I never understood what other authors meant when they said the characters talked to them and revealed their motivations, etc. Then that happened to me, writing this. Hopefully I understood what they were trying to tell me and that reflects in a plot that hopefully makes some sense.

Up next is an old memory from Hotch's rookie years, and we'll see what Dave meant by it wasn't "safe" to let Hotch bend over an impersonal table for this one. I'll put Hotch back together again, but I need to break him a little more first.

I hope you liked it- please review and let me know what you thought and if there's anything you might want to see in the future! No flaming, please (like anyone ever listens to that request lol.)

-lms