They let a few minutes pass after Strauss’ abrupt departure, just to be certain she didn’t return. Then the team gathered in Hotch’s office. Giggles, snickers and self-congratulations were cut short when it became clear to all that Hotch still wasn’t feeling well. Rossi pushed him down into a chair and frowned at him. Prentiss laid a hand across his forehead, feeling for fever. J.J. ran for a glass of water and something bland to settle an uneasy stomach from one of the vending machines in the kitchen. She also brought paper towels to cover up what they chose to call the “Strauss repellant,” pending the arrival of the Bureau janitorial service.
The fuss didn’t last long. It was late and Hotch told everyone to go home. Rossi and Reid remained. Rossi, because he had a paternal streak where the Unit Chief was concerned and wanted to be sure he could get home on his own. Reid, because he wanted a chance to be one on one with Hotch. He had a feeling he might be able to understand what was going on with his boss if his psychic antenna wasn’t picking up interference from the others. And the last few days had taught Reid to trust his hunches. He didn’t think Rossi’s calm presence would hamper him.
When things were quieter and the office was almost deserted in deference to the late hour, Reid pulled up a chair facing Hotch.
“I’m fine, Reid. Go home.” Hotch let himself slide down in his seat so he could rest his head against the upholstered back.
Reid didn’t speak. He peered at Hotch’s face with an intensity that began to make his boss uncomfortable.
“Do I have to make that a direct order?” Hotch closed his eyes and sighed. “It’s been a long day. I’m just tired.”
Rossi nudged Reid. “Is he? Just tired?”
The young doctor continued to stare, seeing something Rossi couldn’t. Hotch opened one eye. “And I’m not taking my shirt off again so you can…whatever…see me, I guess.” The eye drifted shut. “Go home. Both of you.”
“I don’t think I need you to lose the shirt anymore.” Before Hotch could respond, Reid scooted his chair closer, reached out and let the fingers of one hand lightly touch the fabric over Hotch’s chest. The Unit Chief’s eyes flew open, while Reid’s closed. Rossi exchanged looks with Hotch and shrugged. He had no idea what was happening, but he wasn’t afraid of Reid getting lost in their leader’s thoughts as he had with Arthur Brandenhoff. For one thing, the thoughts he might be accessing now weren’t those of a psychotic killer.
Long minutes passed. The two older agents were reluctant to move or speak. They didn’t want to interrupt whatever Reid was doing. When Rossi began to think he should shake the young doctor to see if he was still with them, Reid spoke.
“Concentrate, Hotch.” His voice was slow, almost distant.
“On what?”
“You know what. You can feel it like…like…dark smoke is how you thought of it earlier today…on the jet. Dark and vaporous, curling around in your spirit. You know what I mean, Hotch.”
Rossi saw real fear pass across their leader’s features. This was something neither of them understood. And even if Reid was a colleague, a teammate, a friend…it was eerie. Hotch shivered and felt Reid’s fingers press harder against his chest. He licked his lips, swallowed nervously, and then, as Rossi knew he would, surrendered himself completely to Reid. It was a reflection of the trust Hotch gave without reservation to each member of his team. The Unit Chief leaned his head back again and squeezed his eyes shut, following Reid’s instructions as best he could.
For his part, Reid’s face assumed the expression they’d seen when he’d first demonstrated his ability, when he’d first touched Hotch and experienced all the pain and grief of being attacked and of losing a loved one so brutally. Blank. Impassive. Almost inhuman in its serenity.
xxxxxxx
Part of Reid was elated.
This was a completely different journey. Although he could sense the presence of something ugly that didn’t belong here, Hotch’s mind, or soul, or whatever this psychic landscape could be called, was a welcoming place. Reid liked it. Until he realized he was thinking that, if he had to get lost somewhere, this wouldn’t be a bad place to let it happen.
Alarm spread through him, followed by one of the young doctor’s favorite feelings: the sensation of having learned something, grasped it so completely and thoroughly that ownership could now be claimed. So a pleasant place is just as dangerous as a horrifying one, he thought. Never let your guard down. Remember why you’re here and get on with it.
But it was hard not to explore. So much knowledge and experience different from his own. All he had to do was focus himself and expect to find whatever he wanted. It was like walking down a path, turning a corner and seeing, spread before him, emotions and memories like fantastical constructions. It was beautiful. Seductive. Stop it! Remember why you’re here!!
It was like learning how to drive. Reid had to discover what mental mechanics would route him in the right direction. He remembered the avalanche of sorrow he’d felt the first time he’d touched Hotch and within seconds, felt it approaching. He was delighted when he found what he would always think of as ‘putting on the brakes’ prevented that part of Hotch from overwhelming him. I’m learning! I can do this! REMEMBER WHY YOU’RE HERE!
Distasteful as it was, Reid let himself expect to find something alien, dark, destructive. And there it was. He knew Hotch had seen it as an oily kind of smoke, vaporous and insubstantial. To Reid it appeared as heavier, almost serpentine, almost sentient. But not quite. If it had been a calculating thing, it would have been much scarier. As it was, the young doctor imagined himself herding the thing to the edge of a cliff and pushing it off into a blank void. It wasn’t quite so simple. The thing coiled and spun and tried to slip around and over and under. There was no thought to it, rather an instinctive desire to continue. Reid was persistent. He refused to let the thing get past him. In reality, he didn’t know where it went. But he felt it depart. And the landscape around him,…Hotch’s spirit?...freshened, somehow.
I bet Garcia would see this as rebooting a computer. Reid felt his mind do what would pass for a smile. It faded. He was faced with the task of getting out, of returning. He realized he still didn’t really know how to do that. Calm down. This is a friendly place; conducive to learning. Figure it out.
What felt like hours passed, but Reid remembered Rossi saying something about his sense of time altering when he was engaged in this type of mental gymnastics. Don’t panic. Think. Think. But he couldn’t come up with anything. He curled into a miserable, little ball and felt lonely. Hotch, I’m sorry. I’m lost again. I’m scared. It was like a warm breeze. A wave of affection and gratitude engulfed him. Hotch?
Find me. It was fainter, not the desperate plea of last time. And it didn’t hurt. There was no conflict. Reid turned toward the warmth and felt himself sliding faster and faster. So fast his stomach turned flips. He remembered a carnival ride he’d taken as a child. It was like that. Scary, but mostly in a good way. He was revolving, spinning, being thrown clear…
xxxxxxx
…and he was back.
It was over so quickly. Rossi saw Hotch give himself up. Reid’s fingers were steepled against the Unit Chief’s chest. After a moment, they spread. Reid’s hand flattened and pressed harder. A faint smile quirked one side of the young agent’s mouth. Rossi could swear he whispered ‘Gotcha!’ The smile seemed to transfer from Reid to Hotch. It grew to a grin and then both men opened their eyes and sat straighter, breath labored, but returning to a regular rhythm in minutes.
Remembering the last time these two had emerged from their mental journey, Rossi had a trash can ready. He wavered between them, wondering who would empty his stomach first. He was relieved when Reid gagged, but didn’t follow through. Hotch didn’t seem queasy at all.
“Everyone back? Everyone okay?” Rossi looked from agent to agent.
Reid leaned in and looked at their leader. His color was better and he didn’t look so drawn. “How do you feel, Hotch?”
“Better. Don’t know how to describe it. Lighter? Cleaner inside? Definitely weird.”
Rossi stowed the trash can beside the desk, grateful it wasn’t needed. “I think it’s time to pack it in for the day. Are you two going to be okay on your own or do you need a little help?”
“I’m fine, I think.” Hotch shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “Long day. I just want to sleep now.”
Reid’s head was tilted, considering his boss. “Rossi, I don’t know for sure, but I think he’s going to have nightmares about all this. Maybe he could use some company tonight?”
“Hotch, does Jessica have Jack?”
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, until I pick him up. Didn’t know for sure when we’d get back.”
Rossi took Hotch’s arm and helped him up. “Then she can keep him until tomorrow. You’re spending the night at my place. Reid? You want to come, too?”
The doctor looked thoughtful. “No, I’m good. But thanks.” He remained distracted as they made their way through the corridors toward the Bureau’s subterranean garage. Before parting for the night, Rossi took another long look at Reid.
“Something bothering you other than this whole strange ride we went on today?”
Reid turned to face his colleagues. “Yeah. Actually, I didn’t know it at the time; it was just a way to throw Strauss off the track. But I think I really want to go to New York and the paranormal center next Wednesday.” He hesitated. When he looked at Rossi and Hotch again, there was conviction in his voice. “No, I need to go next Wednesday…can’t explain. Weird.”
As they watched Reid stow his bag and get behind the wheel, Rossi turned to the Unit Chief. “’Weird’ about sums it up. C’mon, Aaron. Let’s go home. We could both use some rest. And I have a feeling young Dr. Reid isn’t done throwing us curves.”
Halfway to Rossi’s mansion, Hotch turned to him. “So you wanna draw straws for who goes with Reid next Wednesday?”
“Nah. It’ll be me, Aaron. There are some things I need to set straight with Carol Bescardi…as one Italian to another.”