Don't Fear The Reaper
Summary: Reid visits Hotch in the hospital.
Warnings: Frightening flashbacks, some adult-themed talk, and Season 5 spoilers!
Quote: "Weren't you frightened?" – "Frightened? Child, you're talking to a man who's laughed in the face of death, sneered at doom, and chuckled at catastrophe…I was petrified." ~ The Wizard of Oz
Despite utter exhaustion sleep came in short, five to ten minute, increments. Anything past that and Hotch's body would jerk, muscles seizing painfully, as his mind called back Foyet's knife slipping inside him over and over. The slow, steady, thrusts the blade made as Foyet taunted as the killer lay over his body. The drugs made him woozy and tired, but they didn't erase the memories. Nor did they really slow the agent's thoughts or lessen his grief.
"Now, I understand that profilers think that stabbing is a substitution for the act of sex," Foyet growled…or was it cooed? "That if somebody's impotent, they'll use a knife instead." The blade shone in the light from the lamp nearby, so bright Hotch felt the need to close his eyes. "Is that what you think, Agent Hotchner?" The blade was gone from view, but Hotch could sense it traveling lightly down his body, "Maybe this will change the way that you profile…"
"Hey," Reid's voice came suddenly and nearly caused the other agent to jump. "Um…I just thought, maybe, you could use a visitor." He stated, staying in the doorway on his crutches, leg in a cast, waiting for permission to enter.
Hotch's eyes lowered a moment, embarrassed he'd not only be caught unawares but also at his nervous reaction to his colleague's voice…a voice he'd never been startled by before. Then, recomposed, he looked at Reid and nodded his okay. "You injured your leg…how?" He inquired.
Reid smiled softly, "Saving the victim." He began to hobble in, using his crutches for support, before he was able to drop himself into a nearby chair. "How are you?"
"Maybe this will change the way that you profile…"
Hotch shifted a little uncomfortably a moment before clearing his throat the best he could. "Fine. I'm fine," he lied in a manner that would be obvious even to someone who wasn't a profiler. "I'm alive." Though that hardly seemed much of a plus at the moment, having lost the most important thing in his personal life, the thing he lived for outside work – his son.
Reid nodded some but stayed silent. He didn't want to press Hotch. Reid remembered the feelings he'd had right after the Henkel case and imagined Hotch felt all those now…and the last thing he wanted was to bring up those painful emotions and upset his friend. After a long time though the younger agent spoke up once more, "Weren't you frightened?" It might seem a question with an obvious answer considering but, well, that was why Reid asked. It was something Hotch could answer easily and without as much shame as other questions might bring…anyone with a human capacity for fear would've been frightened in Hotch's position.
"Don't show fear, don't show fear!" Hotch's mind screamed out at him as Foyet stood over him topless. A scream that grew more desperate, more panicked, as Foyet got on top of him…
"Frightened?" Hotch examined Reid curiously, as if looking for the reasoning behind the question on the man's face. "Child, you're talking to a man who's laughed in the face of death, sneered at doom, and chuckled at catastrophe…" he stated blankly before he gave small, almost regretful, smile, "I was petrified."