Love and Be Loved

by littlemissscatterbrained

After the events of 'Sibling Rivalry,' Hotch and Seaver spend the weekend at Rossi's house. With both 'kids' sick the first day, they're off to a strong start. Part of my 'Lost and Found' 'verse. Warning: contains spanking/discipline of 2 adults by a father/mentor figure

1. Chapter 1

A.N.- This is a continuation of my previous fic, 'Sibling Rivalry,' and picks up the morning after that story ends. You don't really have to read it in order to understand this story, but it will help explain some of my choices and the background here. It exists as part of a larger universe, my Lost and Found 'verse, which encompasses this story, 'Sibling Rivalry,' and 'If you get lost.'

Warnings: This will have disciplinary spanking of adults by a mentor figure, probably corner time, and likely some other disciplinary methods too- anything different that is particularly noteworthy I'll add a warning before the chapter for.

Disclaimer: Like many others, I too merely wish to own CM but alas have no ownership.

-o-o-o-o-o-

"Being a family means you are a part of something very wonderful. It means you will love and be loved for the rest of your life."

- Lisa Weed

-o-o-o-o-o-

As predicted, Aaron Hotchner felt objectively awful as he rolled over to turn the alarm clock off. He was the boss, he could just declare everyone got the day off, right? Technically maybe, but Strauss would have his ass for it, and he'd rather suffer through paperwork than one of Strauss's dressing downs. No, he'd get up and go about his day, he just needed to close his eyes for a second more…

The second time he woke up, it was to the feeling of a hand on his forehead. He grumbled, trying to bat the limb away as he heard his mentor chuckle.

"Nope, you gotta get up," he said, "C'mon." He groaned in response, trying to close his eyes again. He just wanted a little more sleep, wasn't Rossi always telling him he needed to sleep more? He supposed he must have asked that out loud, because the next thing he heard his mentor say was "yes, and you can sleep after work, c'mon," he urged again. Hotch focused on trying to make himself look as pathetic as possible in the hopes he'd be left alone to sleep- no, not the most mature plan, but at that moment he didn't care. He was tired, dammit. He seemed to be at least partially successful in looking as pathetic as possible, given that his mentor seemed to soften as he brushed some hair back from the younger profiler's forehead. Gently, he added, "We're only gonna work a half day, the sooner we get there the sooner we can leave."

He wondered what had prompted Rossi to decide on a half day, since it seemed like he had planned on that long before he tried to wake Aaron up that morning. Grumbling a little, but slightly mollified by the promise of a half day and therefore a nap sooner than expected, he dragged himself out of bed and into the bathroom to shower and get ready. Everything felt wrong, like he was about to crawl out of his skin; his suit- and especially, his tie- only exacerbated that feeling. It was going to be a long day.

Once he finally made his way to the kitchen, he beelined for the coffee pot. He bypassed the food offerings on the table in favor of the caffeinated beverage, hoping it would jolt him into feeling less awful. Only a few moments later, Seaver joined him in the kitchen, also bypassing food in favor of coffee. The two sat at the barstools at Rossi's kitchen counter trying to wake up after mumbling 'good morning' to each other, drinking coffee with a single minded focus. Aaron checked his texts, having noticed that he had at least one unread message from his 'cousin' in New York, Mads- he didn't remember falling asleep the previous night, but it was undoubtedly mid-conversation.

"Seriously, have neither of you heard of a hairdryer?" the incredulous voice of his mentor caused him to look up from his coffee and texting, "and that food isn't decoration, you know. Coffee is not breakfast." Aaron hid a smile behind his mug as his mentor went into full 'mother hen' mode, and didn't argue with the plate of food that appeared in front of him soon after. His body's protests apparently extended to food as well, and he picked at some fruit disinterestedly.

He guessed that his mentor, fortunately, was not going to press the matter of wet hair; a few degrees colder and he was sure that wouldn't have been the case, from past experience. Instead, the veteran profiler just sighed as he told them to be sure they had hats on with their coats too, and disappeared to get his own briefcase. Aaron and Ashley looked at each other, then, and couldn't help but laugh.

"Hey," he said, remembering about the weekend, "You want to stay through the weekend?"

"Huh?" she asked, having been caught slightly off guard.

"Dave is insisting I stay here this weekend, because I 'need sleep' or something," he smiled a little, "Anyways, if you'd like to stay too, I think it could be fun." And, he didn't add, it would hopefully keep Rossi from smothering him with mother-henning if he had two children to distribute it across.

"Oh, uh, yeah," she said, smiling brightly as the request caught up with her. He wondered if she was as desperately in need of a family as he had been; probably, he supposed- he knew that he father was out of the picture, considering he had helped arrest the man himself.

"Great," he said, trying to smile as Dave herded them out to his car. He quickly filled his mentor in that Seaver would be staying that weekend, as well, and the older man smiled widely.

"Excellent! Now you kids are too skinny, so what are you in the mood for this weekend," Dave started as he began the drive to the BAU office, and Hotch managed to refrain from rolling his eyes at his mentor's 'mother-henning.' Still feeling tired and generally off-kilter, Aaron contributed just enough to the conversation to be polite, otherwise drifting slightly in and out of awareness. He caught Rossi's concerned glances every so often and smiled weakly in response every time; unfortunately, it felt more like a grimace- he just didn't want anyone to worry about him. Fortunately, Dave didn't press the issue.

He had hoped he could just work straight through the half-day, wanting to avoid any other concerned looks and sentiments of 'are you okay.' For the first hour, he managed to avoid unnecessary concern as no one stopped by his office. However, his reprieve ended once Morgan came by, needing a signature for some form. Sometimes, Hotch really hated working in an office of profilers- like when Derek stopped on his way out of Aaron's office to hover in the doorway, apparently concerned.

"Hotch, man," Derek started, "You okay? You don't look so hot."

"I'm fine, Morgan, thanks," he tried to wave off the other profiler's concern, but Derek didn't look convinced.

"You sure? I can finish the report if you want to go home and rest. Seriously man, you look sick." Hotch was touched by the offer- he truly did have the best team. Still, he politely declined and pointedly went back to writing his report, silently dismissing the other agent, who didn't seem all too happy as he exited his boss's office. Still, Hotch focused on his report, diligently dotting his i's and crossing his t's as to avoid the wrath of Erin Strauss coming down on the entire unit.

"Morgan said you looked like hell warmed over," the voice of his mentor broke Hotch's concentration on his report, and Hotch looked up with a glare. Dave held up a hand to stop Hotch before he could say anything about Derek being a tattle-tale, "I'm inclined to agree with him, kid- you look like hell."

"Thanks, Dave," he said sarcastically, which only got him a stern look in response. Sighing, he set his pen down, "Seriously, there's nothing I can do about it," he said, "I'm fine, truly."

"You're going to lay down," his mentor countered, "either on the couch in here or the couch in my office, take your pick."

"I'm fine, truly Dave, but thank you. I'm just going to finish this report now, thanks." Again, his mentor didn't deign a verbal response to Hotch's objection, instead staring intently with an eyebrow raised. The two men engaged in a non-verbal battle of wills; at some point, Aaron realized he should be smart and acquiesce to napping in his own office before Dave decided he needed to be babysat. It wasn't like he wouldn't welcome the sleep. Still, on principle, he couldn't just agree.

"Dave," he protested again, "I have work I need to finish."

"Aaron," his mentor mimicked his tone, "The couch in here or the couch in my office. Those are your only options."

"What about my report?"

"I'll finish it," Rossi waved it off casually. Hotch took a moment to consider his options before sighing.

"I'll lay down in here," he said, trying to keep the petulant note from his voice. He was an adult, and the unit chief of an elite team to boot. And, despite how not even 24 hours prior he had wished that Dave had him work in his office, from time to time, those were feelings of inadequacy and jealousy, and he didn't think he actually wanted that. He noted that Rossi didn't look all that convinced of Aaron's intentions, which he supposed was fair given that he planned to be up and working the second his mentor's attention was elsewhere. Still hoping to placate the older man, Aaron made a show of getting up and laying down on the couch, asking his mentor politely to close the door behind him- no one needed to see the unit chief napping on the job.

He waited for a moment, ensuring Rossi had moved back to his own office or the bullpen, before standing up and locking the door, then pulling the blinds shut. The couch called to him, and he wished that he could have followed his mentor's orders. But it was embarrassing, and he still had a lot of work left to do for the half-day. Later, after work, he'd nap happily, without complaint. For now, he took his place at the desk once more and started working on a supplemental document Strauss had asked for, quickly becoming absorbed in his work.

"That doesn't look like a nap," the displeased voice of his mentor caused his head to jerk up, paperwork momentarily abandoned as he tried not to look like a kid just caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Before he could say anything, his mentor said "uh huh," indicating that no matter how beautiful the lie he concocted was, his mentor would still know it was a falsity. He groaned, knowing there was no way out.

"That's it, you're napping in my office. C'mon," his mentor urged, but Hotch resolutely shook his head.

"Dave, no," he said, watching his mentor's eyebrow climb incredulously at being told 'no.' He continued, hoping to get the veteran profiler to see reason, "I have too much work, and I can't just slack off while the team works."

"It was the team that noticed you looked like hell, kid- it wasn't just Morgan who asked if you were feeling alright." Well, that was actually sort of touching, he'd admit; he really did have the best team members. It wasn't like the offer of a nap wasn't exceedingly tempting, either. Still, it was embarrassing, and made him feel like he wasn't doing his job while holding his subordinates to exacting standards.

"Still," he tried, though he wasn't sure where exactly he was planning to go with that statement. After a moment when he couldn't think of any protest, he thought to try to acquiesce. "Fine, I'll nap in here. For real, okay?" He tried not to wince as he heard the tone of his own voice, and Dave didn't look all too impressed by it either.

"That chance passed, Aaron." Hotch was quickly becoming frustrated, wanting to swing his already-wrapped hand into the closest wall. It was easier to swallow than his mentor's caring concern. He admittedly was still feeling nearly as bad as he did when he had woken up that day, which wasn't helping him reject Rossi's offer. Instead, he just shook his head no, and tried to pointedly return to his paperwork.

"Not gonna work on me, Aaron," his mentor chided, "Come with me, now, and rest. Please." If anyone asked, he'd say that it was his mentor's use of the word please that caused him to acquiesce, unable to refuse a (reasonable) request from a fellow BAU team member. He put up one last feeble argument for napping in his own office before following Dave to his, feeling like a kid playing dress-up as he tried to project the appearance of going to Dave's office for some important meeting- not to take a nap like an errant toddler. Before he let Hotch lay down and rest, though, he shut the door to his office and gave Hotch a few quick swats; those didn't hurt all that much, but he felt his face burn in embarrassment. Despite the fast chastisement, Dave didn't send him directly to nap after that, instead gathering Hotch into a hug. While he would have liked to protest it, it actually felt really nice, especially given how crappy he was feeling to start with. Dave's hugs were familiar and safe.

As it turned out, he didn't really have to worry about what other people would think, because he would never know who passed by Rossi's office and saw him napping- his eyes were shut before his head even hit a cushion.

-o-o-o-o-o-

In retrospect, he should have made the kid take a full sick day. However, he figured that decree would only get him more of an argument from Aaron, who never wanted to take time off work, and so the half-day was his idea of a compromise. Though, as he looked at the deeply slumbering form of his protege, he probably wouldn't have had to expend too much effort in convincing the younger man to take the day- he was clearly feeling much worse off than Dave had foreseen.

He shouldn't have been surprised, really- yesterday was a brutal assault of emotions for Hotch, who typically felt physically drained after such events. The younger man had been bottling up feelings for a long, long time, and it made sense that the recoil from the emotional response would be of the same magnitude. Still, it was his kid hurting, and he felt for him as all parents worth their salt do.

So instead, Dave tried to keep his office as quiet as possible as he worked to finish the BAU reports enough that Strauss would leave his surrogate son alone long enough to get a good night's sleep. He snapped a quick picture of Hotch's sleeping form and sent it to Ness; he and his best friend had curated a collection of photos in which their respective charges were sleeping in their offices; Mads was not a stranger to the couch in Ness's office either, when she was feeling sick or after she had found herself in trouble. Almost instantly, he got a text in return about making sure he took care of the BAU unit chief- Ness had apparently picked up on how poor Hotch looked as well.

Paperwork was normally a drag, but time crawled at an excruciatingly slow pace as Dave worked to complete the biggest report he had due before he told the team to pack it up for the rest of the day. The entire BAU looked like they needed naps and perhaps a few weeks of enforced vacation time, though Dave's primary concern at the moment was his own two kids. Finally, finally, he finished the massive document and emailed it to the section chief before finding his way to the bullpen; he wanted to wait as long as was feasibly possible to wake Hotch up, given how miserable the kid seemed to be feeling.

"Hi Rossi," Reid's voice piped up almost as soon as he descended the stairs into the bullpen.

"Reid," he responded, "How's your report."

"Done," the kid said, grinning broadly up at Rossi from where he was seated, "Do you have any plans for the weekend? Wolf Trap is showing Metropolis with an orchestral score, I've seen it before but I think it's really fascinating how-"

"Give it a rest, kid," Morgan groused.

"Does anyone want to come with me?" Reid asked perhaps a little too hopefully, and Dave actually felt a little bad informing the young man that he already had weekend plans.

"Prentiss?" Reid asked the team member who hadn't weighed in yet.

"Huh?" she said, seemingly distracted, picking at her fingernails as she was prone to do when stressed. Rossi made a mental note to keep an eye on her, and if the pattern persisted into the next week, he'd try to have a talk with her. He wasn't going to subject anyone to heavy feelings conversations if they were just having an off day- that would make the emotion-allergic BAU team run for the hills.

"I was saying that I'm planning on seeing Metropolis at Wolf Trap this weekend, you want to come?"

"Oh," she seemed a little taken aback, but quickly recovered, "Actually… yeah, that would be nice," she said.

"Really?" Reid's voice rose an octave in excitement, and Rossi shook his head fondly.

"Yeah, it'll be fun, right?" she said, answered by Reid's beaming smile. Then she remembered whose presence spurred the offer in the first place, and turned to Dave, "What's up, Rossi?"

"Take the rest of the day, all of you," he said, a proclamation that was met by woops of excitement from Morgan and Prentiss, "we more than earned it," he added unnecessarily. Within moments, the two agents had made plans to regroup later that evening at a bar to let off some steam, extending the offer to their other teammates in the bullpen. Reid accepted automatically, and Emily shifted her attention to Rossi.

"I'll pass, but thanks," Dave said, smiling, "Hotch isn't feeling well," was all he offered in explanation- the team was more than familiar with Rossi's need to care for them whenever one fell ill, particularly Hotch. Emily asked him to pass along well-wishes before turning to Ashley, who looked surprised she was being invited before pulling herself together and declining politely as well, stating that she also wasn't feeling well that day. Dave worried a little over that statement- was it possible that Hotch's sickness wasn't psychosomatic as he thought, but rather that his protege picked up something communicable?

Once the conversation broke up, agents drifting back to their own desks, Dave went to Seaver's temporary workspace and rested a hand on her shoulder. Once she looked up, he ignored her rolled eyes as he felt her forehead and cheeks for any sign of warmth. He didn't have a thermometer, so he couldn't be sure, but he didn't think she was spiking a fever. Still, it was flu season, and he couldn't help the vague feeling that he was going to end up with two miserably sick kids over the weekend.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Ashley thought she had been fibbing when she excused herself from the night of team barhopping; just a convenient excuse that wouldn't raise any sort of weird suspicions as to why she was staying with Agent Rossi. However, the second it left her lips, she realized just how true it was. Her eyes felt gross- grainy and bleary- and her throat hurt as well.

She couldn't help the soft whine that escaped as she felt Dave's palm gently press against her forehead- as much as she rolled her eyes at the gesture, she had to admit that the amount of care the veteran profiler showed her was soothing. He stayed standing next to her for a moment, gently stroking her hair as she relaxed a little bit.

"Pack up," he instructed quietly, but still stayed with her a moment longer, "Do you want to meet me at the car, or at my office once you have your stuff?" he asked.

"Car," that was an easy answer, given that waiting for him and Hotch at the car didn't project the same vibes of 'in trouble' as having to report to Agent Rossi's office would have. He nodded in response, and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze before disappearing back up to his office. It was then she realized she hadn't seen the unit chief all day, and voiced the observation out loud.

"Yeah," Morgan, still hanging out by Prentiss's desk, was the team member who responded, "Hotch looked awful when I went to get his signature for a form," he explained, "I think Rossi made him lay down." Well, that would explain Rossi's easy concern over what she figured he would also read as a fib, "Come to think of it, you don't look that good yourself kid." She knew that she had just announced it as an excuse to bail on the team activities of the night, but Derek seemed to have forgotten that already. Plus, it was different saying it as an intended fib than it was hearing it from a legitimately concerned teammate, and it made her already flagging energy levels further dip.

"Let me help you to your car," Prentiss offered as Morgan went back to teasing Reid over something unknown to her, ruffling the younger man's hair as he playfully yelped. The scene was enough to distract her, Emily's words taking a moment to register.

"It's okay, but thanks," she said.

"Seriously, I'm headed to the garage anyways," she paused, giving Ashley a critical look, "And Derek is right, you really don't look like you're feeling great."

"Any chance I'll get you to back off on this?" Ashley asked, knowing when she'd been beat but refusing to fully acknowledge it.

"Not at all," Prentiss offered her a smile, "Come on." Not seeing another option, Seaver followed, and the two made their way to the elevator. Ashley perhaps leaned a little hard against the wall of the appliance to support her weight, feeling slightly dizzy. "Where's your car?" the older woman asked as the two departed the elevator into the cool underground garage- she begrudgingly admitted that the colder air felt great against her skin.

Prentiss's question, however, left her with a conundrum. She could tell Prentiss the location of her car, and then once the profiler left, she could find her way to Rossi's. However, she knew that Dave parked nowhere near where her car was parked- not even on the same level of the structure. That left telling Emily that Dave was driving her, which she thought made her look like a kid being driven to and from school by a concerned father. Rossi's car was closer, though, and she wouldn't have to embark on any extra walk from one vehicle to another. As much as she wanted the BAU to see her as a competent agent, she really just wanted to make it to Dave's car and lean against the side until he showed up with Hotch, her legs starting to protest carrying her weight.

"Actually I carpooled with Agent Rossi," she said, pleased with the fact that her half-truth made it seem like she was concerned about the earth, not like she was a fifth grader in trouble.

"Oh," Prentiss recovered from her surprise quickly, not commenting further as she helped Ashley make her way to where Rossi had parked that morning. "Are you okay waiting here?" she said, "Do you want me to wait with you? You don't look too good…" she trailed off, waiting for Ashley's reply. However, before she could reply, the voice of Agent Rossi sounded from behind Prentiss.

"Thanks Emily," he smiled, "I got it."

"Feel better," Prentiss said easily with a small wave as she departed Dave's parking spot.

"Thanks," Seaver replied as she felt Dave's arm rest across her shoulders as he guided her to the car, opened the door, and helped her in. She was pretty sure that, had she not batted his hands away, he would have happily buckled her into the back seat like an actual child. She squirmed as he rested the back of his hand against her forehead and cheek again, checking her temperature like a child. He frowned but said nothing as he got into the driver's seat, making sure that Aaron had also buckled in before pulling out of the space and starting to drive towards his home.

It was only once the car stopped and she found herself blinking slowly that she surmised that very early on in the trip back to Agent Rossi's house, she had slipped off into sleep. Now, a soft hand was gently caressing her cheek, and she vaguely registered some soft and encouraging words. She groaned as she woke up more fully and her body started to register aches and pains that weren't unfamiliar when she was sick.

"Into the kitchen," he said gently, and she made her way inside to the room that she was quickly beginning to associate with feelings of warmth, safety, security… of family. At Rossi's instruction, she and Aaron both took seats at the kitchen counter; she crossed her arms in front of her, using them as a pillow for her head until a gentle shaking of her shoulder caused her to stir once more.

She took a sip of the mug of tea that was placed in front of her, and only barely resisted spitting it out. She had the good grace to look down and blush as she caught Agent Rossi's disproving look, and tried to take another sip, nearly gagging as she swallowed.

"Come on Dave," she heard Aaron weakly protest, "you know this is the worst flavor."

"It's the most effective one, too."

"I'll drink two cups of the lemon crap instead?" he tried to barter.

"You're not really in a position to debate, Aaron," Agent Rossi pointed out, which reminded her to choke down some more of the vile liquid before he could give her the same disproving look he was currently giving Hotch. The two were locked in a battle of the wills, and Ashley wanted to be nowhere nearby when Agent Rossi won- and she was sure he would win, because he could be extremely firm when he wanted to be, and she didn't think that medications and the like were something that the veteran profiler would yield to.

"I'm done with my tea," she said as she choked down the last of the beverage, "Can I go to bed now?" she asked, hoping not to sound like too much of a goody-two-shoes, "and can I have water for the aftertaste?" Dave shifted his attention from Aaron long enough to tell her that her plan sounded good, and handed her a water bottle from the fridge.

Gratefully, she made her way to her room as quickly as she thought she could handle and immediately downed half the bottle of water, trying to rid her mouth of the taste of the gross tea. Then, she changed into the soft, worn clothing she had slept in, crawled into bed, and was out like a light, ignorant to the battle of wills still ongoing in the kitchen.

-o-o-o-o-o-

"It always helps, you know that," his mentor tried to reason with him, but Aaron seemed to have lost contact with the adult part of his brain. Instead, all he could think of was how genuinely gross the tea in front of him was, and how unfair it was that his mentor was forcing him to drink it. Yet all his objections were calmly met by Dave, who was unbudging on this issue. The taste was so gross, though, and he was still emotionally wrung out from the previous evening that his objections devolved from rational to childlike.

"I'll be good, I promise," he offered earnestly, his mind getting partially stuck in his childhood as was its tendency whenever he felt poorly or was emotionally wrought. "Please, I promise I'll be good," he continued to try to beg, not knowing what he did wrong. That was okay, though- he rarely knew what he did to bring about his father's harsh discipline; it was okay he didn't know why he was being punished this time, either. He just wished his punishment didn't come in the form of gross tea that coated his mouth in a slimy, gross-tasting substance, no matter how much that substance also helped his pained throat.

"Hey, this isn't punishment," his mentor's soft voice repeated a few times, until he was sure Hotch had registered the words. "Your throat hurts, and this helps. I wish it tasted better, kid," Dave actually sounded almost apologetic.

"I'll drink two mugs of the lemon tea?" he offered in exchange.

"Sorry kid," his mentor, annoyingly, actually sounded genuine in that statement, "the lemon tea isn't as effective, you know that. And I bet you don't exactly enjoy the feeling of your throat in pain, huh?" he asked gently, and miserably, Aaron shook his head.

"I'll make you a deal, okay?" His mentor tried a different approach, and he looked up curiously. "This is the only cup of the slippery elm flavor that I'll make you drink, just to get your throat less raw as quickly as possible. But, after this, if you're good about drinking the other teas I give you, this is the only time you need to drink this flavor. Okay?"

Aaron silently considered his options, before realizing that the offered deal was likely the best deal he'd get. It wouldn't get him out of this gross mug of tea, but at least it was a promise that this was the last time he'd have to down the slippery elm stuff. Miserably, he nodded and reached for the mug of vile liquid- it had gone cold, and was somehow even grosser when not steaming hot. He said as much, and Dave obligingly microwaved the mug to warm the tea once more, before watching Aarown down it with a moue of distaste.

Quiet praise from his mentor rewarded him, as did a bottle of water that the older profiler handed him so he could rinse the taste of the tea from his mouth. Begrudgingly, he'd admit that it did make his throat less intensely painful, but he wasn't sure it was worth the taste.

Not long after, his mentor was tucking him into bed with instructions to rest.

"If you're not tired, that's fine," he said, "You have your phone- no doing work, though- or a book, or music," he offered, "but you need to let your body rest." Ordinarily, Aaron would protest the childish treatment, though he felt objectively awful enough to want to rest. Not sleep, though, after his nap at the office. No, he was too awake to nap, but the bed was soft against his achy body and he pulled out his phone to text his 'cousin.'

Do I have your mom to thank for the gross tea? He had learned long ago that at least 80% of the things Dave did or gave him that he found abhorrent was actually at the recommendation of Ness.

Cass, actually, the text came moments later, Maddy apparently having no questions as to what he was referring to.

It's the worst.

Tell me about it. U OK?

I thought I was feeling emotionally bad, he found it easier to admit over text, turns out I might be actually sick.

Ooooooooooof. The simple text stands alone for a moment until it's quickly joined by another message. New cousin?

Poor kid got to experience the horrors of gross tea early.

Ooooooooooof, yet another message reads, and it's a longer moment until his phone vibrates again. U doing okay with that, BTW? Sometimes, he felt like he needed Urban Dictionary to decode messages from Mads.

With what? He's not being deliberately obtuse, he legitimately has no idea what she's asking about.

No longer being an only child.

To be honest, I haven't thought much about it. That was decidedly true, but the text did cause some of his repressed worry to reawaken. He knew Dave had told him to stay in bed and get rest, but his mentor had never been angry before if he tried to seek the other man out for emotional support, regardless of whatever it was he was supposed to be doing.

Here 4 U.

Thanks, he quickly shot a text back, legitimately grateful to have a friend and 'cousin' like Mads. Then, after a moment more of deliberation, Aaron slipped his phone in his pocket and ventured out of his bedroom, in search of his mentor.

-o-o-o-o-o-

After ensuring Aaron was at least resting, if not outright sleeping, Dave left the younger man's bedroom and found his way back to his living room. Fishing out his phone, he saw he had never responded to Ness's earlier message instructing him to care for the BAU unit chief. Instead of responding via text, he tried calling her instead; if she was at work, she would call back later, he knew, but he was really hoping for his old friend's advice as he found himself with two sick kids. It wasn't like he thought he couldn't handle it- he definitely could, especially after the year where everyone but he and Garcia had come down with the stomach flu- but some moral support would be appreciated.

"Dave," his friend's subtle drawl sounded unsurprised, "Those kids run you into the ground, yet?"

"Thought Aaron might, with the tea earlier," he snorted.

"How'd you resolve that one?"

"Bribery."

"Dave!" his friend sounded scandalized, and he couldn't help but chuckle a little.

"Hey, nothing drastic. I just promised I wouldn't cram more of that slippery elm tea stuff down his throat if he stayed on top of drinking the other soothing teas."

"Do you need tea advice?" She asked; Ness was capable of two types of tea advice- medicinal herbs that would make anyone gag and a southerner's strong opinion as to what makes a legitimate sweet tea and the best method of preparation. He thought he was fine on both fronts and said so with a small chuckle of his own. "Suit yourself, but if you ever need advice…" The words hung in the air a moment as Dave processed the fact that Ness was reminding him she was there for more than just advice on tea.

"I know," he reassured her, "and thank you, seriously." Fortunately, she took the heavy moment and derailed the conversation entirely with one of her more recent work tales. The BAU saw some wild things, but he was frequently reminded that Ness's department of the FBI- intelligence branch- was also often engaged in some truly wild operations. It didn't take long for him to get caught up in her story, then Ness remembered something similar that happened during their Academy years, when they first met. Before he knew it, the worry for his two sick charges, while still present, was a more manageable feeling.

"Give me a second, Dave," the voice on the line said, interrupting herself in the middle of some tale. He heard muffled voices, then his friend's voice could be heard clearly over the line once more as she said, "Mads says be on the lookout for Aaron."

"Huh?" he asked, truly confused as to the total non-sequitur before he saw the form of his surrogate son, "Nevermind, I think I know what you mean. I'll call you later?"

"You better."

"Say hi to Mads for me," he tacked on, "and Cass. Love you."

"Love you too, Dave. Now, go see to that boy of yours," she said, and Rossi could hear the smile in her voice- she always did have a large soft spot for Hotch.

Speaking of, his son was standing awkwardly in the doorway, looking like he was about to face an executioner- Dave chalked it up to the kid's assumption of consequences for leaving bed in addition for his emotions to tend to magnify in times of sickness.

"C'mere, kid," he said gently, patting the sofa cushion next to him, and Aaron rapidly approached. Once he was standing beside Rossi, he hovered, no doubt half assuming his mentor would draw him over his lap to dole out consequences for not resting. Instead, Dave shook his head with a small smile, and patted the seat next to him again. "No trouble," he said, pitching his voice low, "Come sit." A relieved look broke out over the kid's face, and he sat down next to Dave with no indication that he had been spanked multiple times only a day prior.

"You okay?" he asked his surrogate son gently. Hotch nodded, but didn't say anything just yet, and Dave decided to wait him out. It never took long for Hotch to spill his feelings to Dave, something the older profiler was inordinately proud of, and this was no exception.

"Are we okay?" he asked softly.

"Why wouldn't we be?" Dave replied mildly, wanting to see where Hotch was going with this path of inquiry. His immediate response was a shrug, and Dave again waited patiently for the younger man to speak.

"I don't know," Aaron admitted quietly, "I just needed to make sure?" he sounded frustrated, but Dave knew from experience that Hotch's frustration was typically pointed inwards. So, once more, Dave waited. "I don't know," Hotch reiterated, "Am I too much work? I'm emotions-sick plus normal-sick, and now you have two kids to take care of, and one of them is normal-sick too and I don't know about emotions-sick," the words came tumbling out all at once, and Dave wrapped an arm around Aaron's shoulders in a way the younger man typically found comforting.

He couldn't say he was surprised by this rush of insecurity from Aaron, but the kid had a tendency to try and blame himself for anything and everything, regardless of how rational the argument for his involvement was.

"You're fine," he said, rubbing his protege's back gently, "It's alright. It's not a problem, you're not a problem. You're never a problem, Aaron, understand?" The small snort Hotch gave was an indication that the man wanted to give a smartass response, and before the younger man could say anything, Dave firmly reiterated, "I don't know what incident you're no doubt thinking of. I don't want to know what incidence you're no doubt thinking of. It doesn't matter, Aaron. No matter how hard you try, I'm staying around, and you're not a problem."

In retrospect, he probably should have expected the tears in response to such a forceful declaration of his care.

-o-o-o-o-o-

A.N.- This chapter is brought to you by the fact that I'm presently sick and have a tendency to heavily project (can you tell I think slippery elm tea is the grossest, haha?) It is not brought to you by RNAPII loading, which is what I'm supposed to be studying right now. School is brutal right now, and I'm not having a great time- writing helps keep me sane(ish, because I'm convinced no one truly sane willingly signs up for graduate school.)

Hopefully it won't be too long until I'm able to update, though next on the list of 'things to write' is the next chapter of 'If you get lost.' I'm still working on the Hotch and Gideon story- I'm finding that Gideon is exceedingly difficult to write accurately. I want to write a story where Ness and Mads have a slightly larger role, too, but I'm trying to keep the number of active stories I have manageable.

As far as this story, specifically, it's sort of a free-for-all right now where I have the barest hint of a plot planned in advance- if you have any ideas or scenes you want to see, let me know and I'll see what I can do (within my capabilities.) Currently on the docket for this story at some point is Seaver and Hotch verbally arguing and, as a result, Ashley gets introduced to the idea of getting her mouth washed out (and we all know poor Aaron has experienced that more than once before,) but that's all I've more-or-less definitively planned. So, if you want to see something, let me know!

Until next time…

-lms