Retribution, A Spencer Reid/Criminal Minds Fanfic

Chapter 61. Vision Quest

They’d seen it before.

Hotch holding Reid’s hand to his chest, eyes closed, giving himself up to something he didn’t understand and the outcome of which he couldn’t predict. It was an act of pure trust. It was their leader.

And considering what such contact had done to him in the past, it was an act of pure bravery. That, too, was their leader.

All they could do was wait.

Rossi scooted in closer. Without disturbing the contact between Reid and Hotch, he placed a hand on the opposite side of Aaron’s waist. It was comforting just to feel body warmth and the slight expansion of respiration, so much less than the rapidly moving chest. After a moment, he spoke softly, but still with enough authority to break through the spell that seemed to hold them in silent vigil, watching the two men locked in some sort of psychic bond.

“Emily, help Garcia find a phone number for Millie’s B&B. You talk to her; she’ll remember you fondly, I think.” He paused, feeling a tremor run through Hotch. “Give her a message for that old doctor.”

“Okay. Okay.” Prentiss leaned forward, watching the older agent’s sad eyes. “What message?”

“Just say ‘Aaron needs you.’ Got it?”

“Sure.” Prentiss nodded, retreating to the table where the laptop and Garcia’s barely contained tears waited.

Rossi tuned them out as they discussed the logistics involved in obtaining a phone number when the town in which the phone was located had no name. He wasn’t really worried. He’d noticed the faux-Victorian, mauve phone Millie had on an ornate, little occasional table. Garcia would ferret it out. He was more concerned with whatever was going on in Aaron’s mind.

He swallowed hard as Hotch’s free hand, the one that wasn’t clasping Reid’s to his chest, inched toward him. Rossi placed his on top of it, squeezing hard, rubbing his thumb in comforting arcs across the sharp wrist bone.

He was about to bow his head and say a silent prayer when he felt Morgan move closer. When the agent spoke, his words were clearly meant for Rossi’s ears only.

“Are you okay? Rossi?”

“I’m not the one to worry about.”

There was a pause. Morgan shifted, voice lowering even more. “What’s the deal between you and Hotch?” Rossi turned and looked his colleague in the eyes, searching for the deeper meaning he knew was there.

“C’mon, man. I know something’s going on. Ever since you guys got back from that weird place where Reid’s kid was born, things have been…different.” Morgan’s voice gentled. “I’d like to understand, Rossi.” He ducked his head. “I just feel like I can protect you guys better if I can predict you better. I’m only asking because I wanna do my best for both of you.”

So because it would make Morgan stop asking questions, stop watching and worrying, as Rossi had known he was…because he wanted to let someone know what was at stake for him personally…but mostly because it would feel really good to finally say it out loud, to finally tell someone…Rossi did.

“He’s my son, Morgan. Aaron’s my son.”

xxxxxxx

It was the mental equivalent of having your child sob in your arms.

It was an uncontrollable mixture of relief and grief. And Reid knew it had to be leaving its mark on Hotch. Or rather, in Hotch.

He tried to keep his own emotions in check, but in the strange duality that attended this type of psychic travel, he could feel Hotch’s heart rate soaring, Hotch’s chest heaving beneath his palm.