First part of Out In the Open.

***

As the alarm clock screeched to life, Hotch's eyes flicked open. Reid groaned loudly in protest to the alarm, and made a move to turn it off. However, it was on Hotch's side, so he only succeeded in draping his arm over Hotch's shoulder, yawning as he tried to reach around Hotch's body.

"I can't reach it…" Reid muttered. Hotch rolled over and silenced the alarm, and then turned to Reid, stroking his hair.

"You have to get up," Hotch asserted gently when Reid seemed to start going back to sleep. Reid let out a slow sigh and rolled away from Hotch, swinging his legs over the bed and standing up.

"Do you want some coffee? Reid asked while covering his hand with his mouth, trying to stifle a yawn.

"Yeah. Do you want to take the first shower?" Hotch asked, also getting out of bed, letting his hand rest on top of the warm spot where Reid had just lain for a second longer than necessary before getting out of the bed.

"No, you go ahead. I have to have coffee first," Reid muttered, heading out into the kitchen. Hotch walked out, and realizing he had left his bag in the hallway the previous night, he hurried out. Luckily, it was still there, so he picked it up and went back into the apartment, going straight into the bathroom. He paused on his way to the shower, studying the purpled bruise on his left cheek. He pursed his lips together and looked away, getting into the small shower cell. Once he finished, he got dressed, and walked into the kitchen. Reid was sitting at the table, holding a half-empty mug of coffee, and looking utterly exhausted. However, as Hotch approached, Reid looked up, and smiled brightly.

"I made you coffee…I wasn't sure how much creamer or sugar you like…" Reid's voice trailed off as Hotch picked up the mug and sat down, and the smile fell from his face. "I'm sorry he hit you…"

"It's not your fault, Spencer. But we can't talk about this right now, we have to go to work. We'll talk afterwards.

Reid nodded, biting his lip and then stood up abruptly, running a hand through his unruly hair. "Okay…I'm going to go take my shower now..."

Hotch watched as Reid scampered down the hall, and let out a sigh when he heard the door shut. He needed to talk to Reid about what happened, but he knew he couldn't bring it up until after work…he prayed they didn't get a case. He wasn't sure about Reid, but he knew he wouldn't be able to focus after what had happened last night.

As Reid came down the hallway, he smiled at Hotch, drying his hair with a towel. He looked a little less tired now, and Hotch forced himself to return the smile.

"You about ready?" Reid asked, tossing the towel towards the living room. Hotch nodded, and finished his coffee, standing up and setting is empty cup in the sink.

"Yeah," Hotch answered, getting his go bag and heading to the front door. Reid pulled on his shoes, and hurriedly grabbed his jacket, putting it on before slinging his bag over his shoulder. They walked out of the apartment, and Reid turned around, locking the door behind them, before pocketing his keys, and following Hotch down the hallway.

Reid cleared his throat, before asking, "any idea what the rest of the team has been doing?" He was going for a casual tone, trying to get back into 'work mode.' They took the stairs down, and then walked out into the lobby.

Hotch shrugged, and opened the door for Reid. "They haven't called me, so it must not have been too chaotic." Hotch unlocked the SUV, and they got in, heading straight for Quantico. The drive was quiet, and just a little tense, so it was a relief when they pulled into the parking garage and got out. Hotch went straight for his office, taking an Advil, while Reid headed to the break room, to get another cup of coffee. He didn't even notice that Garcia was already in there until he had taken a couple slow drinks.

"Hey Cutie-Pie! How was..." The bright smile on her face faltered, and a slight, worried frown tugged at her ruby-red lips. "Honey, what happened to your lip?"

"Hm?" Reid stared at her blankly for a moment, cup half way to his mouth before it clicked what she was asking. "Oh, that. I wasn't watching where I was going and ran into a tree branch." It was a lame excuse, but he knew it was slightly believable. Garcia had seen him do similar things. Still, the worried frown remained, and Reid shifted uncomfortably as she studied him.

"Alright…but from now on try to avoid tree branches…okay?"

Reid nodded, forcing a small smile. Garcia walked out, and Reid followed suit, heading towards his desk. With a heavy sigh, he sat down, eyeing the pile of paper work on his desk. There were at least five extra files, probably Morgan, or Prentiss, most likely both. The bullpen was fairly quiet, so he immediately began to work through the files, getting the first three done before Morgan and Prentiss got there. After that he slowed down, occasionally talking with Morgan or Prentiss as the day wore on. JJ had apparently caught the flue and was taking the day off. By the time he had finished with the files, it was late, and there wasn't a case, so he picked up his coat and bag, and went out.

From his office, Hotch watched Reid go, his arms folded across his chest. Behind him, Dave sighed, shaking his head.

"He shouldn't be alone," Dave stated, standing up and putting his hand on Hotch's shoulder.

"I told you I am going to talk to him." Once Reid was out of view, Hotch turned to Dave, who had quirked an eyebrow at that comment.

"And once you get the answers you want, will you leave?"

Hotch frowned, pressing his lips together. "No…if he's at home alone, and Shawn shows up…"

Dave shook his head, letting out a sigh. "I get it, okay? The guy gave me a bad feeling, and I knew something was wrong, but…Reid's been acting so…well, he seemed fine, before. You'd better go and talk to him now." Hotch nodded, and grabbed his jacket and go-bag before walking out of his office. He ignored the strange look he got from Garcia, and walked out of the bullpen.

Once he was at Reid's apartment door, go-bag in hand, he knocked lightly, waiting until Reid opened the door. Reid looked nervous, but unsurprised to see him, and walked over to the couch and sat down. Hotch followed and sat next to him, unsure of how to start this conversation. There didn't seem to be many ways to do it.

"Spencer…?" Reid didn't answer, but pressed his lips together, swallowing thickly while staring at his lap. "Spencer, I need you to be honest with me." Reid nodded, but still didn't answer, so Hotch continued. "I need you to tell me about Shawn."

"I-okay…I'm not sure what you want me to tell you." Reid's voice cracked as he spoke. He took in a shaky breath and then continued. "That was the first time he ever hit me…I swear, he had never hit me before."

"That kind of violence doesn't spring up overnight."

"I broke up with him, and he was angry, it might have been a response to-"

"Spencer, you said you would be honest."

Reid took in a shaky breath, and hung his head, his shoulders shaking slightly. "I know…I'm sorry, I just don't want to talk about it." Hotch put his arm around Reid's shoulders, and Reid looked up at him, a pleading expression on his face. "Please, Aaron, I don't want to talk about it." Hotch shook his head, and Reid looked down, pressing his cheek to Hotch's shoulder. "It was my fault, I never said no…"

"It's not your fault, Spencer," Hotch whispered, running his fingers through Reid's hair. Reid pulled away shaking his head, pushing hair out of his face.

"Are you saying it was his fault?" Reid asked, glaring slightly.

"Spencer…"

"What did he do wrong? I never told him no." His voice was firm, but Hotch shook his head, unwilling to simply agree.

"Spencer, what did he do?"

"Nothing I disagreed to."

"Spencer."

"What do you want me to say? Do you want me to say that he raped me, Aaron? Because he didn't, I never said no."

"So you were completely comfortable with the relationship?" Hotch asked, incredulous. Reid shifted uncomfortable, moving away from Hotch.

"Well…no, but it wasn't his fault that I didn't say anything…I just let him do what he wanted."

"He was controlling?" Hotch asked, thought it was more of a statement than a question. Reid swallowed and nodded, moving to lay his head on Hotch's shoulder once more.

"It wasn't bad…just little things. He yelled sometimes."

"Did he ever hurt you?"

"I already told you, he had never hit me, before last night."

"I know that. I meant in other ways." Reid buried his face into Hotch's shoulder, taking in a deep breath before he answered.

"He didn't mean to…Aaron…I don't want to talk about this anymore…" Reid was shaking slightly, so Hotch pulled him close, hugging him to his chest.

"Just calm down, Spencer…." Hotch whispered, soothing. Reid relaxed, so Hotch helped him to his feet, gently guiding him into the bedroom, but then Reid stopped, forcing Hotch to stop with him. He shook his head, swallowing thickly.

"Could we stay in the living room?" Reid asked weakly. Hotch couldn't stop the frown from forming on his face. It was unhealthy, Hotch knew that. He rubbed Reid's shoulders soothingly, shaking his head.

"Nothing bad will happen to you while you're with me," Hotch whispered. Reid tensed slightly, but nodded.

"Okay…"

Hotch led Reid to the bedroom, and they sat down by the headboard. Reid curled up against him, letting out a sigh as he relaxed.

"Don't leave…" Reid muttered, curling his fingers into Hotch's shirt. Hotch nodded, and sat up a little more, taking off his jacket and tie before wrapping both arms around Reid.

***

When Hotch woke up in the middle of the night, Reid was sleeping peacefully, his face buried in Hotch's shoulder. He gently maneuvered Reid away from him, and pulled the covers over Reid's shoulder before standing. Hotch watched Reid sleep for several moments, marveling that someone could look so tense during the day, and then so relaxed and peaceful at night. Turning around silently, Hotch walked out of the bedroom, stopping in the bathroom briefly before wandering into the living room.

He couldn't sleep, and he briefly considered watching television to distract himself. Instead he found himself opening the apartment door. The hallway was empty, except for a cardboard box that sat in front of Reid's door. Perplexed, Hotch stooped down to examine it. The first thought that came to his mind as he stared at the small box was 'bomb-sized'. It was about ten by six by seven inches. Cautiously, Hotch slid the box about two inches away from the door. It wasn't nearly heavy enough to be a bomb, so he opened the top, and frowned as he peered inside. There were about six DVD's in cases placed hap hazardously inside of the box. Hotch lifted the box, and glanced at the sides, and bottom, but found no name or return address, before lifting one of the DVD cases. There was a number written on the front, and nothing else. A quick glance at the others revealed that they all had separate numbers, from one to thirteen. A couple numbers were missing.

Unsure, Hotch lifted the box and took it into the apartment, setting it down on the tea-table. It took him several minutes to make a decide what do with it, but he then picked up a DVD, number four, and popped it into Reid's DVD player, turning the volume way down before pressing play. The first few minutes consisted of footage of an unfamiliar, empty room. However, as two figures entered the room in the frame, Hotch felt his blood run cold. Four, maybe five minutes later, Hotch jabbed at the eject button, and ripped the DVD out of the player, shoving it into its case and throwing it into the box. He stood for a few moments, his hand over his eyes, before he stood up straight, and picked up the box, heading out of the apartment barefoot. He walked out into the parking lot and deposited the box in his car before heading back to Reid's apartment, practically running. When he got inside, he locked the door behind him, and went straight for the bedroom.

Reid was still sleeping, lying on his side with his arm stretched across the space Hotch had previously occupied. Suddenly exhausted, Hotch walked in and moved Reid's arm, lying down on his back. He was slightly surprised when Reid snuggled up against him, pressing the side of his face against Hotch's bicep, wrapping his arm around his stomach. Hotch turned his head and found Reid looking at him sleepily.

"You left…" Reid muttered, his eyelids fluttering closed briefly before he forced his eyes back open. Hotch let out a soft sigh, pressing his cheek against Reid's hair.

"I just went out for a minute." Hotch was surprised by his own voice; it was hoarse, and broken, as if he had been the one screaming, not the figure on the television screen…even though Reid hadn't said no, there was no way that could be considered 'consensual.' Hotch flinched, and had to look away from Reid's drowsy gaze, unwanted images springing into his head. Reid must have noticed, because his gaze turned worried, and he gently stroked Hotch's jaw.

"Hotch…Aaron? What's wrong?" Reid asked, his voice fraught with lethargy and concern.

"It's nothing, Spencer, try to go back to sleep," Hotch murmured, keeping his voice low. Reid shook his head, and shifted, propping himself up on his elbows above Hotch. His frown deepened, and he sucked in a breath, something in Hotch's expression alerting him that something was very wrong.

"Please…tell me," Reid pressed. Hotch let out a nervous sigh, and ran a hand through Reid's hair. It wasn't fair to keep this from Reid, not after pressing Reid into telling him what little he had. He hesitated for a moment before he spoke.

"Were you ever aware of Shawn…video-taping you?" Hotch asked gently. Reid's lips parted in surprise, and he sat up, sitting cross-legged next to Hotch, his expression anxious.

"No…why? Why would you ask something like that?" Hotch noticed that Reid's breathing had sped up, and his chest was heaving, so he sat up, and gently put his hands on Reid's shoulders, holding Reid's gaze.

"Spencer, just calm down, and I'll explain," Hotch said. It didn't help, however, and Reid's eyes widened, and he turned deathly pale in the dim light of the room.

"Wh-what? Hotch, explain what?"

"He left a box of DVD outside of your door…" Hotch began, speaking calmly. Reid drew in a sharp breath, and shook his head, pulling away from Hotch.

"DVDs? Of what? Wait…you watched them? What was on them?" Reid had stood up and was now watching Hotch worriedly, wringing his hands together nervously.

"Spencer, please, you need to calm down…"

"Are you out of your mind? How can I calm down? He…he video-taped me?"

Hotch stood and approached Reid slowly, and to his surprise, Reid flung his arms around Hotch, burying his face in Hotch's neck, small sobs forcing their way out of his throat. He rubbed Reid's back, and did his best to hold Reid up as Reid's knees gave out. Hotch waited until the choked sobs had stopped to address him. "Spencer…? Are you alright?" Reid shook his head against Hotch's shoulder, still leaning against him heavily.

"You saw? You saw what I let him do?" Reid mumbled brokenly, his voice muffled by Hotch's neck. Hotch hesitated, but then nodded. Reid whimpered, and then Hotch moved him, mostly carrying him to the bed before sitting him down. Reid didn't let go the entire time, so Hotch sat down also, and let Reid hide his face against his neck.

"Now you know why I didn't want to tell you…"

"Spencer, it wasn't your fault."

"I let him do that. I never told him not to."

Hotch swallowed and closed his eyes, trying not to think about it too much. "He hurt you, Spencer. He knew he was hurting you, and he should have stopped, regardless of whether or not you spoke up."

"It wasn't that bad…"

"Yes it was. He could have broken your arm."

"Oh god…you saw that…" Reid muttered, letting out a shaky breath. He was trembling slightly, so Hotch hugged him tighter, not sure what else he could do. "What else did you see?"

"I only watched a couple minutes…I couldn't watch more."

"Oh…don't watch anymore."

"Why did you tell me he wasn't violent?"

Reid pushed away from Hotch, putting his face in his hands. "He didn't hit me, he just…manhandled me, is the term, I think…"

"It was violent manhandling then."

"I don't want to talk about it."

Hotch let out a frustrated sigh, getting a little tired of that particular phrase. "Okay…maybe you should get some more sleep then," Hotch suggested. Reid nodded and pulled his hands away from his face, revealing red-rimmed, puffy eyes. He shifted his legs up onto the bed, and crawled under the covers, curling up on his side. A slightly panicked expression crossed his face as Hotch stood up.

"W-where are you going?" Reid asked, sitting back up. Hotch sat down next to him, and ran his fingers through his hair, gently coaxing him to lay back down.

"I'm just going out for a walk, I'll be back," Hotch promised. But Reid shook his head, and sat back up.

"I'll go with you…"

"No, you need to get some sleep."

Reid frowned, his lips pressing together tightly, a dark emotion that Hotch couldn't quite decipher flaring up in his eyes. "Why don't you want me around?" His tone dripped of suspicion, and his eyes narrowed. Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a soft sigh.

"Reid, I just need to be alone for a minute. I'll come right back."

Reid responded by laying down and rolling over with his back to Hotch, curling his body in a way that away brought his insecurity to view, making Hotch feel guilty. Hotch hesitated before turning around and walking out of Reid's apartment, heading out to his car. He drove home, and took the box of DVD's inside, stowing them away in the attic. Not because he planned on watching them some time, but because of a strange paranoia that someone else would get a hold of them if he simply put them in the trash. It was almost irrational, but it was enough to keep him from throwing them in the dumpster. The drive back to Stafford and Reid's apartment seemed to take a little longer, probably because he was anxious to get back to Reid. The entire time he had been gone, he'd tried to think of some way to make Reid feel better, and take away the hurt, but had failed to come up with anything.

Once back inside, Hotch tip-toed to the bedroom, hoping not to wake Reid, but as he entered, he found Reid already awake, sitting up in bed, his knees pulled up to his chest. He was oddly still, staring at Hotch as he walked to the bed. Hotch paused, and then sat down next to Reid, leaning against the headboard. Reid continued to watch him, and then bit his lips together, looking apprehensive.

"Hotch?" Reid asked, his voice small.

"Yes?" Hotch asked, the exhaustion he felt creeping into his voice. Reid flinched slightly, his shoulders hunching, and then shook his head.

"N-never mind…you're tired, maybe we should just go to sleep." His voice broke while he spoke, sending a fresh wave of guilt through Hotch's mind.

"No, I want to hear what you were going to say first, Spencer," Hotch murmured, wrapping both arms around Reid. Reid leaned into the embrace hesitantly, taking a deep breath.

"I don't want him near me anymore…"

"I'll get you a restraining order, if you want," Hotch suggested, gently kissing Reid's forehead. Reid nodded, shifting so he was using Hotch as a pillow rather than leaning against him. Before Hotch knew it, he was asleep.

As Hotch woke up, he found himself alone in the bed. When he heard the shower running in the bathroom, he relaxed a little, and went out to the kitchen, where a pot of coffee was already out. Pouring himself a cup, Hotch pulled out his cell phone and spent the next few minutes arranging to have a restraining order set up against Shawn. Reid emerged as he finished up with what he could do on the phone, drying his hair with a towel.

"After work we have to go to the courthouse to finish getting your restraining order."

Reid nodded slightly, tossing the towel. "Are you coming with me?" He asked nervously, pouring himself coffee. Hotch raised his eyebrows.

"I did say 'we'. Of course I'm coming with you. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't?" The was a light note to his voice, and the statement had the desired effect on Reid. A shy smile broke out on Reid's face, and he blushed, ducking his head and focusing on his coffee. Hotch smiled and walked to the bathroom for his shower.

Once he was out of the shower, they were both ready, so they drove to work, each heading to their respective spots once they'd made it to the bullpen. Hotch had only started to arrange the files on his desk when a sharp, insistent knock sounded on his door. Hotch frowned, and looked up.

"It's open," he called before looking back down at his paperwork. The door swung open, almost hitting the wall, and an irate, flustered Penelope Garcia walked in, closing the door loudly behind her. Hotch looked up, his eyebrows raised, trying to maintain a calm facade.

"Is something wrong, Garcia?" He asked gently. Garcia's eyes narrowed.

"I know you're my boss and you have supreme control over what goes on in the workplace…but this is NOT okay." Hotch had to force his expression to remain neutral as he tried to keep up with what she was saying. When he didn't respond, she continued, speaking a little slower. "I know something's wrong, sir. You had me look up that guy, Reid's ex, Shawn, and then the two of you come into the office with 'battle wounds' and you expect me not to say anything."

***

Reid took a long, grateful drink from his coffee, the corners of his lips curling up as he swallowed the too-sweet drink. Sitting down at his desk, Reid relaxed for a moment, enjoying his coffee, before he set out to conquer the paperwork that was currently stacked on the corner of his desk. Morgan came over and leaned against his desk, folding his arms across his chest, and Reid smiled slightly, not bothering to look up at Morgan, since his universe currently revolved around the steaming mug in his hands. However, when Morgan didn't immediately greet him with some mildly teasing remark, Reid frowned, feeling something shift in the atmosphere. He glanced up reluctantly, and found Morgan's concerned gaze on him.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Reid asked suspiciously, clutching his cup of coffee tighter. He still hadn't forgotten the time Morgan and Garcia had tried to get him 'un-addicted' from caffeine after he'd missed a couple nights of sleep while on a case with the help of several cups of coffee.

"Because I'm worried about you, kid." Morgan's voice was low, and he shifted towards Reid, the frown on his face deepening. "Wanna tell me what happened to your lip?"

Reid stared at him blankly for a moment, but then laughed slightly, shaking his head. "Morgan, I ran into a tree." Reid turned back to his coffee, taking a drink, and was surprised when Morgan didn't walk away, giving him some warning to avoid trees.

"What was the trees name?" It sounded like a joke, but Morgan's voice was dead serious. Reid frowned, and grudgingly looked away from his coffee, frowning up at Morgan.

"I believe it was a Sycamore Maple, also known as Acer Pseudoplatanus."

"Same tree that punched Hotch in the face, right?"

"I-no…that was my fault…" Reid muttered, suddenly sounding guilty as he looked away, staring fixatedly at his coffee again.

"How is it your fault?" Morgan asked, incredulous. Reid took a slow drink of coffee, and then shook his head.

"I don't want to talk about it. You should probably get back to work."

"Reid, I'm not done talking to you. Somebody took a swing at you and Hotch, and I want to know who the bastard is so I can-"

"Morgan, stop it. I can't talk about it, so just drop it…please?" Reid looked up at Morgan now, his eyes pleading. Morgan took a deep breath in through his nose, tensing as a bitter look came over his face.

"Reid, you can't just let shit like this go on and not do anything about it."

"Hotch is doing something," Reid muttered, looking away as a pout settled onto his face. He slumped in his chair, biting his lips together for a moment before he continued. "Hotch isn't stupid, Morgan. He isn't going to make the same mistakes that I did."

Morgan's brow furrowed, and he leaned away from Reid, studying him intently. "What happened, kid?" he asked, his voice gentle. Reid just shook his head.

"It doesn't matter. Hotch is taking care of it."

Morgan squatted down so he was eye level with Reid, putting a hand on Reid's knee. "Come on, kid , talk to me."

"Nothing to talk about," Reid muttered, looking away. "Go back to work, Morgan. Please? I have work to do."

Morgan let out a slow sigh, and stood, turning away. He glanced over his shoulder. "If you ever need to talk, I'm here for you. You can talk to me anytime you need to."

Reid just nodded minutely and turned to his desk, pretending to focus on a file.

Hotch stared at Garcia, an incredulous expression on his face. Did she just refer to a split lip and a bruised cheek as 'battle wounds'? Well, she was Garcia, which somehow gave her permission to label anything how she wanted to label it. He took a moment to think, and then answered her in a low, steady voice.

"Garcia, I'm not sure what you think, but there is no correlation between me, Reid, or his ex-boyfriend, so if that was all, I think you should be getting back to work."

This formal, carefully composed statement did not have the effect on Garcia he had desired. Instead, she gawked at him, seeming insulted by the comment. After staring at Hotch, indignant for a couple seconds, gaping at him, she set her lips determinedly.

"Sir, I may not be a brilliant profiler like you and the others, but I'm not stupid. Something's going on and I'm going to find out whether you like it or not, so you might as well tell me." She stopped to take a breath, before she continued. "And I know Reid didn't run into a tree, and I know it's more than a coincidence that you come in with a big o' bruise on your face on the same day, after asking me to look up an ex boyfriend, who just so happened to have a record." She ran out of breath and stopped, shaking her head. "Don't lie to me, Hotchie. What's going on?"

Hotch stared at her blankly, trying to think of what he could and couldn't tell her. He took a drink of water, looking away briefly before he answered.

"There was a confrontation, and it ended violently. But the situation has been resolved and there is no longer a problem."

Garcia's eyes narrowed dangerously. It was disturbing how she suddenly seemed very scary. "Hotch, don't skirt around the issue. What the hell is going on?"

Hotch took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. His headache was coming back. "Garcia, I told you as much as I'm allowed to. You have to realize it's not just about me here. I can't talk to you about this."

Garcia's eyes widened as if she had suddenly had an epiphany. "Oh…so I should talk to Reid?"

Hotch couldn't stop a look of horror from crossing his face briefly before he was able to mask it, but it was obvious she had seen it. "Garcia, I don't think that's such a good idea…I'm sure you understand why he wouldn't want to …talk about this at work."

Once again, realization dawned on her face. "Oh! Right. Of course, Sir."

"So you're going to leave him alone?" Hotch asked wearily. Garcia nodded.

"Yes, sir. I'll just go straight back to work."

"Thank you."

Garcia nodded once more and then turned and left Hotch's office, dutifully going back to her bunker. With a sigh of relief, Hotch slumped into his seat, putting his forehead in his hands.

Getting the restraining order didn't take as long as they had thought it would, and they didn't even need to confront Sean. Soon, they were out the door, headed home.

As they made it back into Reid's apartment, after a quick stop at Hotch's house so he could pick up more clothes and some supplies, Reid slumped onto the couch, fatigue etched onto his face. Hotch slumped next to him, gathering the thin form into his arms, hugging him close. It seemed like a reoccurring theme, him simply trying to hold Reid together, hoping it would be enough. He hadn't been enough for Haley, and he was beginning to wonder if he could be enough to help Reid through everything. He was broken out of these thoughts by Reid's warm breath on his neck. When Reid's soft lips started pressing against random spots on his exposed skin, he hummed slightly.

"You okay?" Hotch asked softly. Reid shifted, so he was mostly curled in Hotch's lap, and continued to kiss his necks softly.

"Yeah…I'm okay. You have a headache." He paused, and then moved up, kissing Hotch's temple.

"It's going away."

"How can I make it better?" Reid was smiling slightly. Hotch smiled back, but just shook his head.

"What's gotten into you?" Hotch asked, a slight teasing note to his voice, but that didn't quite mask the serious tone.

"I want to make you feel better…" Reid murmured, pouting. Hotch ran his hands up and down Reid's back, soothingly.

"I do feel better, I-"

Hotch stopped as a knock came at the door. Reid frowned, and stood up slowly, but before he could go to the door, Hotch gently took his wrist, guiding him back onto the couch. Reid sat down, looking up at Hotch with wide-eyes. Hotch just stood and walked to the door, hand on his gun as he opened the door. Instead of Sean's tall, menacing frame, Hotch was greeted by a mass of blonde curly hair and frilly clothes.

"Garcia?"

***

Hotch heard an odd squeak coming from Reid's general direction, but ignored it in favor of staring confusedly at Garcia, too shocked at seeing her to hold up his usual mask, his every emotion playing out on his face. And, for her part, Garcia looked just as confused, squinting at Hotch as if he were an illusion that was bound to disappear. Once she realized that he was, indeed, very real, she had the sense to look apologetic.

"Oh, um, sir, I didn't know you were here," Garcia began, sounding dazed. She glanced over Hotch's shoulder, looking at Reid briefly before looking back to Hotch, her mouth slightly open, her face going momentarily blank. Hotch wondered if her mind had simply shut down, but then something seemed to click, and her eyes widened, both hands flying up to cover her mouth. "OH! Oh, ohmygod…ummm, I'm sorry. So, so sorry. I didn't realize that you two were an item, I-"

"That's not what's going on here," Hotch interjected, his voice firm, finally taking on his usual authoritative mask and voice. "I was just talking to Reid. What did you want?" Hotch asked, attempting to sound casual, and firm all at once. Garcia only looked more confused, but tried to control her voice as she spoke.

"I wanted…to talk to boy-genius…you know, like you said."

"What?" Reid squeaked from the living room, sounding surprised and irritated all at once. Hotch scrubbed a hand over his face, shaking his head.

"Garcia, this isn't quite what I meant…"

Garcia's eyes narrowed, and her lips parted. She stared at Hotch for a moment, this incredulous expression lingering on her face until she finally spoke. "When you said, Reid wouldn't want to talk about it at work, what you really meant was to butt out." It wasn't a question, and she sounded furious. When Hotch didn't answer, she continued in a low voice, "Hotch, I know something is going on, and I know it has something to do with that scumbag Shawn." Her gaze flickered to Reid briefly before resettling on Hotch's shocked face. Her voice was softer when she continued. "I need to know what's going on, Hotch…"

Hotch let out a sigh, and stepped out of the way. Despite her severe tone, Garcia had been speaking in a hushed voice, and Hotch was sure Reid hadn't caught a word. His suspicions were strengthened by the confused look on Reid's face as Garcia stepped in past Hotch. The confusion slowly turned to worry as Garcia sat down next to him, glancing up at Hotch as if to ask if it was okay for her to continue. Reluctantly, Hotch nodded.

"I'll be right outside. You two go ahead and talk."

Guilt twisted in his gut at the panicked look Reid shot him, begging him to stay for support, but Hotch didn't hesitate as he turned and walked out, closing the door behind him. He wanted to stay and comfort Reid, but he hoped that maybe Reid would trust Garcia with something he hadn't been able to tell him. He walked around the block a couple times before slowly walking up the stairs to Reid's floor. Garcia was walking to the elevator, looking both shocked and confused. Hotch paused and watched as she went into the elevator. Garcia didn't offer any information as to what had been said, but just stared at Hotch until the elevator doors slid closed. With a heavy sigh, Hotch turned and walked to Reid's apartment door, opening it cautiously.

"Why did you leave?" Reid murmured as the door opened, sitting on the couch, looking stiff and uncomfortable.

"You were always closer to Garcia…I thought I'd let you two talk."

Reid pressed his lips together, looking away, as if trying to calm himself. Hotch waited patiently until Reid looked at him again, his face neutral, but a strange sort of anger evident in his eyes.

"I didn't want to talk to Garcia alone." Reid paused, and looked at the floor, his brow wrinkling. "You should have stayed."

Hotch froze, slightly taken aback by Reid's word choice. He had known Reid would be upset, but the way he said it, 'you should have stayed' did more than stir up the guilt in the bottom of his stomach.

"Spencer, I didn't want to be in the way-"

"I didn't want to talk to her." There was accusation in Reid's voice, and Hotch knew he deserved it. He should have just answered Garcia's questions in his office, instead of dragging Reid into it. Reid looked at him, and his face softened, in some response to Hotch's expression. Before Hotch could apologize, Reid turned his body to face Hotch, brushing Hotch's forehead.

"You still have a headache."

Hotch couldn't stop the frown that formed on his face. Reid said it like he'd completely forgotten what they had just been talking about, all of the anger and accusation gone from his voice, replaced by a sort of tenderness he wasn't used to hearing in Reid's voice.

"Can't you stay mad long enough to yell at me?" Hotch asked darkly. Reid pursed his lips, and slouched away from Hotch, leaning against the armrest.

"I shouldn't have been mad in the first place. It's not your job to explain my mistakes. And I'm tired of being mad at you."

"I'll try harder not to make you mad."

"Hmmm, good." Reid leaned over, nuzzling his face into Hotch's chest. He suddenly went tense, curling up against Hotch's side. "But what about the tapes?"

"Don't worry about the tapes. No one's going to see them," Hotch murmured, petting Reid's hair. Reid let out a soft, shaky sigh, and shook his head against Hotch's shoulder.

"I'm sure he still has copies, at least," Reid muttered, his voice breaking in the middle of the sentence. He sighed again, sounding frustrated this time. "Maybe if I just talk to him…"

"No. You're not going anywhere near him."

Instead of getting frustrated, or irritated with Hotch, Reid simply nuzzled closer, nodding. "Okay. Are you coming to bed with me?"

Hotch thought about it for a moment. With a reluctant sigh, he nodded, and Reid disentangled himself before getting up, standing awkwardly, waiting until Hotch got to his feet. They walked to the bedroom together, slowly, tiredly, and sat down, but didn't turn off the lights or lay back.

"He has copies…" Reid murmured, tension radiating from him as he stared fixated at the ground.

"Don't think about it," Hotch stated firmly. He gently tilted Reid's chin up, forcing him to make eye contact. "Don't worry about it. I'll take care of it."

"No. You're doing too much for me. I can take care of it. You don't need to go through all of this trouble."

"Spencer, don't make me ask you to shut up. I'm not going to let him hurt you." Reid glared, and pursed his lips, but didn't argue. Hotch got to his feet. "I'm going to get ready for bed. Try to lay down and relax. You need some rest." Reid rolled his eyes as Hotch walked out. Grabbing his go-bag, Hotch went into the bathroom and got ready, changing before heading back into the bedroom. Reid had changed into pajamas, and was already curled up, a large lump under the covers. Quietly, Hotch flicked off the lights, before carefully climbing in the bed on his back next to Reid. When was the last time he'd slept in his own bed? He found himself not caring as Reid curled up against his side.

***

Groggily, Hotch forced his eyes open, only an hour after he'd fallen asleep. He sat still, his head tilted away from the light coming in from the hallway, trying to find out what had made him wake up. Slowly, he became aware of the faint ringing of his cell phone from where he'd left it in the bathroom with his go-bag. Groaning, Hotch stood, being careful not to wake Reid. As he walked down the hall the ringing stopped, and then started again before he even made it to the bathroom door. With a sigh, Hotch bent down and picked up the insistent device, flipping it open and pressing it to his ear.

"Hello?" Hotch grumbled, slumping against the wall.

"Are you okay?"

Hotch stood up straight at the panicked tone of Garcia's voice. "I'm fine…Garcia, what happened?"

There was a pause on the other line. "You're….not at home?"

Rubbing a hand over his face, Hotch kept in a sigh. "Garcia, just tell me what happened."

"I'm not really sure…I got a call that the cops were sent to your apartment." Garcia still sounded confused, and Hotch could almost see the way she was pouting, even while frantically trying to pull up the police reports and anything else pertaining to the incident.

Hotch was still groggy, but began to frantically get changed, throwing his clothes on hap-hazardously. "Could you try to find out what happened for me?" Hotch asked as he pulled on his shoes, his voice laced with irritation.

"Uh…right, yes, I am…just-just give me one second." Hotch could still hear the faint clicking of keys, but as he began to walk out of the apartment, the sound of the bedroom door opening caught his attention. He spun around, and felt a rush of guilt as he took in the sight of Reid staring at him, confused and half asleep, looking somewhat like a little kid. Hotch paused, looking away from Reid. "Garcia…just call me back later, I'm going to head over there." There was a slight sound of protest on the other end of the line, but Hotch ignored it, and snapped his phone shut.

"Aaro-Hotch?" Reid squeaked, doing his best to look awake-and failing completely. "What's happened? Why are you leaving?" The way his lip stuck out in a pout added to the little kid image, and Hotch hurried to Reid, gathering him into a hug. Reid slumped against him, and yawned, already half-asleep on his feet.

"I just have to go by my house and get something," Hotch assured, turning Reid around, and half-leading, half-dragging him back into the bedroom. Reid let out a soft moan of protest, letting Hotch set him down on the bed, but curled his fingers into Hotch's sleeve, and pulled him down next to him on the bed.

"Hotch, something happened, you were talking to Garcia. Please just tell me Hotch." Even though Reid couldn't quite get his eyes to stay open, he managed to give Hotch a beseeching look, pressing his cheek against Hotch's shoulder.

"It's nothing, really. Garcia got a call that the police had been sent to my apartment. I'm just going to go check things out." Reid sat up straight, his eyes narrowed, a dangerous scowl setting onto his face.

"You have no idea what's going on over there, and you were just going to run over, alone?" Reid growled, voice scratchy with sleep, but alert enough to be angry. Hotch resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and brushed a curled strand of hair off of Reid's forehead, tucking it behind an ear.

"It's not as bad as you make it sound, Spencer. The cops are already there, and probably have everything sorted out. I'm just going to go and find out what happened."

Reid made a face, his brow crinkling and his lips pursing, and Hotch cringed slightly at the thoughtful, calculating look on the genius' face. "You were just going to leave without telling me? What if something had happened?"

"If you are trying to give me a guilt trip, it's working," Hotch sighed, twisting his body away and standing. Reid stood also, and clumsily began gathering clothes from the dresser. With a sigh, Hotch rubbed a hand over his face. "Spencer, what are you doing?"

"I'm going to get dressed, and then we are going to go and find out what happened at your apartment." There was a stubborn edge to his voice, but Hotch ignored it, walking over and grabbing Reid's hands as Reid began to unbutton his pajama top.

"Please, just go to bed, and I'll be back in a few minutes," Hotch pleaded. Reid responded by yanking his hands away, and then pulling the top up over his head, and then tossing it onto the ground. Without thinking, Hotch turned to give Reid privacy as he undressed the rest of the way.

"I don't understand why you don't want me to go. Like you said earlier, the cops are there, and probably have everything straightened out. I'll be safer there, with you and some cops, then I will be here, alone." And of course, Reid made perfect sense, but that didn't relieve the uneasy feeling in the pit of Hotch's stomach at the thought of Reid going to his apartment with him. Hotch turned when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Reid was fully dressed, minus shoes, and looked a little guilty. "I'll stay right next to you the whole time," he promised. Hotch forced a smile.

"Okay," Hotch murmured reluctantly. Reid nodded, and led Hotch into the living room, slipping on his shoes and coat before heading out the door. As they drove, Hotch still couldn't shake off his uneasy feeling.

***

As Hotch talked to one of the cops, Reid stayed next to his side dutifully, standing almost too close, doing it on purpose just to show Hotch that he could stay out of harm's way. He hung back slightly as Hotch and the police entered the apartment, standing just inside the doorway. Reid listened as the police officer explained that a neighbor had heard someone break in, and called the cops. Glancing around, Reid frowned. Nothing was apparently missing, and nothing was broken. No drawers were even open, which most likely meant whoever had broken in was looking for Hotch.

Reid leaned against the doorframe, his mind already drawing up lists of possible suspects. Of course, Shawn naturally made it onto the list, after all, Hotch was keeping Shawn away from his target, in this case, Reid. Ignoring the guilt this possibility raised, Reid attempted to think objectively about possible solutions to the problem. However, as he thought of the prospect of Shawn being tracked down and interrogated, Reid shuddered, and decided to stop thinking about it until he was sure it was, or was not Shawn.

Reid just about screamed as a hand fell on his shoulder, but luckily choked on it and turned to the police officer who was now eyeing him worriedly. The officer opened his mouth, and the beginnings of an apology began to form, but Reid simply waved it off, shaking his head.

"No, it's fine. What did you need, officer-" Reid began, ignoring the slight hoarseness of his voice. The police officer seemed unsure, but took a deep breath and stood up straight.

"Officer Kent. I think I found something outside I think you should see, Dr. Reid."

Reid glanced over his shoulder towards the bedroom, where Hotch and a couple other cops were, briefly considering asking Kent to wait for Hotch. But, then again, Hotch had already made a point to introduce Reid as a fellow FBI agent, whom he had been going over a case file with (at the ungodly hour of three in the morning), and there were two more cops outside. There seemed to be little harm investigating a possible lead with a couple of cops. So, despite the promise he'd made to stick with Hotch, he nodded and followed Kent outside.

Reid frowned as officer Kent led him to the side of the building, but he followed him all the same, feeling slightly relieved when the other two cops outside waved as he passed by them. Reid almost ran into Kent as he stopped, but regained his composure quickly, and began looking around, but didn't find anything in the mostly dark alley.

"A call came in a couple minutes ago, someone said they heard shots down here," explained Kent. Reid's body jerked into a tense position, but Officer Kent didn't seem to notice, and began to point out a series of three gouged out sections of brick. "It's weird, it looks like the guy just shot at the wall and left."

But did he really leave? Reid wondered. He felt like smacking the officer over the side of the head. There was an armed suspect running around, and although Kent and the other police had on bullet-proof vests, Reid was now all too aware that he didn't. And, besides kids and other hooligans, most criminals didn't just shoot at a wall. There was the possibility that the shooter wanted to get the cops' attention. But before Reid could say anything to Officer Kent to get them both out of there, a warm hand on his shoulder, and a cold gun at his neck quieted him. The threat was implied, don't make a sound, so as the hand pulled at him, Reid followed quietly, frowning as Kent continued to stare at the wall, saying something about the shooter and home intruder being the same person.

As he was turned to face away from Kent, and pushed to continue to walk down the alley, Reid found himself holding his breath, and had to concentrate to move air in and out of his lungs at a steady pace.

Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic

Of course-he almost laughed thinking about his situation. Hotch had been right, he should have stayed home, and if he got out of this, the chances of Hotch trusting him to take care of himself were slim. Once they were out of Kent and the other cops' hearing, Reid took a chance, clearing his throat.

"Shawn?" he asked hoarsely, his voice hardly a whisper.

"Who else would go through all of this trouble to get you back, Spencer? I love you, you have to know that now. That guy, your boss, he wouldn't do this for you, but now you know that I will. I'll do anything for you," Shawn muttered, leading Reid down the side of the street, to his brown Chevy, parked just a little ways from the entrance of the alley. Reid frowned slightly, thinking even as emotions tried to win over control of his mind.

"You did all of this for me?" he asked incredibly. As they reached the passenger door of the Chevy, Shawn turned him around, a sort of manic adoration in his eyes as he looked at Reid. With the barrel of the gun pressing lightly against Reid's jaw, Shawn leaned in, kissing him softly, lovingly. The kiss was almost beautiful enough to make Reid forget about where he was, and what had happened. With a slight whimper, Reid let Shawn press him against the side of the truck, reciprocating the kiss, trying to draw it out as long as possible. As Shawn ran his tongue over his bottom lip, Reid parted his lips, sighing as Shawn slipped his tongue into his mouth. The hand that was holding the gun was cradling the side of his face, thumb brushing over his cheek before Shawn moved his hand to cradle the back of Reid's head, fingers slipping through strands of hair. Reid brought both hands up, laying them flat against Shawn's chest, but not pushing him away. Would Officer Kent be able to tell this wasn't consensual, when not even Reid could? The thought was vague and hazy in Reid's mind, even as the thought of why he needed to draw it out as long as he could, give the cops and Hotch a little more time before he disappeared into the truck, even as that thought faded.

***

Hotch didn't even realize he was running until he heard the gun shot.

Officer Kent was somewhere behind him, after having told him he'd lost Reid. He hadn't even chastised him, hadn't yelled at him for losing Reid, possibly letting him get murdered. It didn't matter, for Hotch, the anger didn't even register. He was down the stairs and going around the side of the apartment before he could think. The two cops that had been investigating the outside of the building were already gone, Kent had probably already told them what had happened. As Hotch entered the alley Kent had said they had been investigating, Hotch heard someone shouting, put down the gun, but the sound didn't even register. But what did register was the next sound, seconds later, the sound of a bullet slicing through the air, an echoing, cracking sound. Hotch felt he hear the dull, wet sound of flesh being ripped, exploding as the bullet hit. He felt as if he would vomit.

Hotch was half-way down the alley when he heard one of the police officers calling an ambulance. He couldn't hear the actual words, but he knew that was what the officer was talking about. One officer moved past him, and Hotch had to skid to a stop, turning around to stare as the officer led Shawn away. There was blood, on his hand, upper arm, splattered on his chest, little droplets seeming to sparkle, glitter-like on his neck, an almost imperceptible amount shining on his face. Hotch turned back around and started running again, a new sort of panic filling him.

As Hotch made it to the end of the alley, he turned to face the scene, and stopped. He could hear Kent and the others behind him, some helping to take Shawn to the cop car. There was an officer on the ground, blood on his shirt. But where was Reid…

The world swam, turned grey, and then someone was pulling him away. He hadn't even realized he had started to walk towards the scene. Someone was pulling him back down the alley, turning him around, and the sound of an ambulance cut through the air, and Hotch was stunned at how nauseating the sound was, it had never bothered him so much before. The ambulance came to a stop hap hazardously in the street, and several EMTs and a stretcher poured out.

The EMTs rushed back past him in what seemed like only seconds, hurrying back into the ambulance, bringing Hotch to the awareness that some of the police officers were staring at him as he stood uselessly on the side walk, frozen as the flurry of activity passed around him. The ambulance was already taking off, the EMTs not even waiting for anyone to climb in, completely set on their almost futile task. Hotch felt his body start to unfreeze, but before he could begin walking, and shaky hand fell on his shoulder. He turned to see the police officer he'd seen kneeling on the ground, blood on his hands, staining his shirt. He looked stunned, confused even, and unaware that he was getting blood on Hotch's jacket. His lips parted, but before he could say anything, Hotch pulled away, making a mad dash for his car. He had already lost time, and couldn't see the flashing red lights, but he'd caught the name of the hospital on the side of the ambulance. He used whatever rational thought he had left to pull out his cell phone and punch speed dial two, pressing the phone to his ear as he sped through traffic.

"Hello? Hotch? Is everything okay?" asked Garcia, still sounding as perky as she had the last time he'd spoken to her, less than an hour ago.

Less than an hour ago, Reid had been sleeping next to him, peaceful and serene looking as he curled against Hotch's side.

Fight back a wave of nausea, Hotch swallowed, and forced his voice to stay steady, but firm as he answered, "Garcia, Reid's been shot. I'm on my way to the hospital now. Call the others, I'll let you know more when I know more." He didn't wait for the rush of emotions and questions that were sure to come from Garcia's side of the line before he snapped his phone shut. He needed to focus on driving, and already his head was becoming cloudy with the thoughts and emotions that he was so desperately trying to suppress. However, the image of the police officer kneeling over Reid's unresponsive body as he tried to stop Reid's bleeding took over his mind, and he had to pull over, throwing his door open and losing the contents of his stomach. A horn blared as the car that had been behind him swerved to avoid hitting his door, and Hotch shut his door, closing his eyes, and simply focusing on his breathing until he felt centered enough to drive.

Once inside the building, Hotch went straight for the front desk. The nurse looked up, didn't smile. She knew who he was, at this point. His son had been born here, five years ago, followed by a series of visits whenever Jack got sick over the years, his own various medical mishaps had also brought him here, and then he'd been a frequent visitor during Reid's recovery from anthrax. Her eyes flickered towards the hallway at the right.

"He's in the operating room. There's coffee if you'd like, here in the waiting room, Mr. Hotchner." She sounded apologetic, sympathetic even. She might have seen the EMTs bring Reid in. She probably had an idea of how bad his chances were. But at least he was still alive, if she was telling him to stay in the waiting room. It meant there was something to wait for. Recovery, death. Hotch didn't feel like he could wait, but knew there was nothing he could do, so he slumped into one of the hard-cushioned chairs and began to wait.

***

Reid opened his eyes…or were they already open? Either way, he began to slowly become conscious of the world around him. Or was he dead? From the small slivers of memory he had, he was fairly certain that he should, in all fairness, be dead. The last thing he was sure of was that he was bleeding profusely from the chest, some man's thick hand slipping in the blood in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. However, a steady beeping noise floated into his awareness. It was not a sound he would have placed in heaven, or hell, or any other form of afterlife, all of which he did not believe in anyway. The point is, he was fairly certain it was the mechanical beep of a heart monitor.

His eyes had closed again, of their own accord, so he forced them open once more. The room was bright, and even though he was in a drugged, semi-conscious state, he became all too aware of the people in his room, one standing in the corner, arms across his chest, the other pacing by the door, and the third sitting in a chair next to his bed. He felt all too exposed, covered in the thin hospital blanket, and the too-bright lighting. Under the sheets, he was wearing hospital scrub pants, but no shirt, and the cotton sheets scratched at his skin where there wasn't any gauze. It was worse than being in a confined space without a vest with an unsub, or naked in his own bed with Shawn. He felt exposed to the eyes of his colleagues. And he didn't feel just physically exposed. His colleagues were here, which meant they knew…and he was sure Hotch was furious.

Reid licked his dry lips and opened his mouth, a small croaking noise taking the place of where words should have been. His throat was dry and sore, they must have just taken out the respirator tube. Reid watched as the dark scowl on Hotch's face softened into a look of concern. It almost looked as if Hotch were in pain, and then he turned around, grabbing a cup of ice chips off of the hospital's bedside table. As Hotch began to feed Reid the ice, Morgan stood up straight and stuck his hands in his pockets, slumping his shoulders as he walked over from his spot in the corner, taking a seat next to Hotch. Reid huffed slightly at his over-exaggerated attempts to look non-threatening, and Morgan's eyebrows flew up.

"Just because unsubs find you terrifying doesn't mean I do," Reid croaked, before taking another offered bite of ice. The blank, neutral expression on Morgan's face fell away, and a laugh forced it's way out as Morgan shook his head. Hotch's scowl had returned, but from the looks of it, it was just his way of keeping himself from smiling.

"Kid, you're afraid of the dark, but not me?" Morgan asked, incredulous.

"The inherent absence of light…and you're about as terrifying as a baby cat."

Hotch's immobile scowl broke as he snorted a laugh, and Morgan just blinked, seemingly offended as he sat back in his chair, crossing his arms menacingly. Reid snorted a small laugh, but then made a face at the jolt of pain this caused in his chest. A worried, motherly looking JJ sat down across from the two men, glaring at both Hotch and Morgan as she took Reid's hand.

"Spence is right, Morgan, but let's try not to make him laugh." There was a somber nod of agreement, a flash of guilt on Morgan's face. Reid rolled his eyes, and opened his mouth in an invitation for more ice chips. The awkward sense of being exposed was starting to fade, even though the guilt of not listening to Hotch was still fresh in his mind, the ache in his chest a good reminder of how close he'd come to death. Pursing his lips, Reid took on a more serious expression, and lowered his voice.

"How much longer before I'm allowed back at work?" The scowl returned to Hotch's face in an instant, and JJ and Morgan shared a worried glance. Reid swallowed audibly, and took a deep breath. "Assuming you aren't going to fire me?"

Hotch relaxed, but he didn't seem any less aggravated. "You're just lucky the bullet missed your lungs, and heart, Spencer. You will have to undergo physical therapy, and it will be at least a couple months before you'll be allowed back at work." Reid couldn't help the pout that formed, and Hotch's scowl deepened in response. "It'll be even longer before you can get back on the field. You're just lucky to be alive, so don't pout like that."

JJ and Morgan shared another look, this one more amused, with eyebrows raised, and Reid felt his face heat up. JJ wasn't a profiler, but she was apparently just as good at noticing relationship changes as Morgan. Hotch didn't seem to notice however, and was about to set the cup down, but Reid made a noise of protest without thinking about it, so he brought the cup back, shoveling another small spoonful of ice into Reid's mouth. Morgan stood up and stretched, shaking his head slightly.

"Well, I'm gonna go get some sleep kid. Haven't shut my eyes since I heard you were shot. But now that you're awake I think I'll go. You take good care of the kid, Hotch. I'll see you all later."

Morgan left the room, and JJ smiled slightly, giving Reid's hand one more squeeze before standing. "I think I'll go too…I'll call the others and they'll come in and see you some time later." She left, and Reid pursed his lips slightly as the door shut. He was alone with Hotch now, and he wasn't sure he was ready for that…

"Spencer…" Reid jolted at the sound of his own name, and took a deep breath.

"So why weren't the others here earlier? I would have thought Garcia would have insisted on being here," Reid blurted, trying to avoid the eminent conversation. Hotch raised his eyebrows, he wasn't easily fooled. However, he humored Reid, letting him take temporary control of the direction of the conversation.

"She fainted when she saw you, so Prentiss and David took her back to her apartment so she could calm down before they brought her back."

"Oh…." Reid swallowed dryly. He definitely felt bad now. He could remember how Garcia looked, after getting shot, and the flurry of odd emotions that he felt upon seeing her. It wasn't fair to put Garcia through that, or the others, for that matter. He was quiet for a moment, but then asked in a small whisper, "Shawn?"

"He's in jail. You don't have to worry about him hurting you every again."

Reid nodded, and let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, staring at the hospital blanket as he absorbed the fact that Shawn was in jail. Reid realized he was zoning out when Hotch cleared his throat loudly, and his attention snapped back to the present. Hotch's expression had softened again, so Reid stayed quiet, signaling that he was ready…well, as ready as he would ever be, to talk about what had happened.

"You said that you were going to stay right next to me the entire time."

Reid licked his lips, and answered in a small voice, that he knew sounded pathetic. "I was going to…but one of the police officers wanted me to go look at something with him…"

"Officer Kent." Hotch's voice was cold, and Reid flinched slightly, beginning to wonder just how much trouble he was in. Hotch sounded way beyond just angry.

"Yeah…H-hotch, I'm sorry."

"I'm not mad at you, Spencer. You were doing your job, unlike Kent."

Although Reid still felt mostly responsible for what happened, he decided that, as Hotch's 'boyfriend' he needed to be on Hotch's good side more than Kent did, so he didn't say anything. There was a moment of silence, and then Hotch let out a sigh, slumping in his chair as he leaned towards Reid, putting a hand on Reid's arm.

"I thought you were going to die."

"It's not the first time," Reid mumbled. Hotch let out a small dark laugh in response, shaking his head.

"Spencer…if this is going to work, you're going to have to stop getting into dangerous situations." Hotch's voice was light, and joking, but there was an underlying seriousness that Reid understood. He nodded, giving a tight-lipped smile.

"Okay."

END