The Telepath's Daughter

Changes

The moment Julio Ruiz stretched Hotch out on the gurney waiting in the hospital lobby, the old doctor rested the worn palm of his hand across the fallen FBI agent's forehead. Rest, Aaron...No more pain, Aaron...

Julio took Hotch's wrist in a gentle grip and presented it to the doctor. The opalescent, glassy band fused into the flesh winked lavender and celadon in the cold, antiseptic lighting. The two men's eyes met. Their brows rose in unison.

This is new. Have you ever encountered such a thing, priest?

If you haven't seen the like, there is small chance anyone else has, doctor. This is nothing of Palero experience.

The doctor tilted his head, examining the strange substance from different angles. After a moment, keeping his palm on Hotch's forehead, he placed his other hand against the Unit Chief's chest. The old man's eyelids drifted shut as he explored all the information his ESP-er talents could access in the still body under his touch.

My fault, but I didn't mean to! I didn't mean to! Uncle Aaaaronnnnn!!! I'm sorry!

The doctor's eyes flew open and once again sought Julio's. The child is on her way. I need a moment to examine Aaron. Will you deal with her until I'm finished?

Certainly.

Julio did an about-face, crossed the lobby and exited the hospital's large, glass doors, his mind already reaching out to the distraught child approaching, hand in hand with Rossi.

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Melinda had been broadcasting her telepathic regret and guilt mainly for the old doctor's sake. She knew he'd be the first to divine what she'd done to her beloved Uncle Aaron. She also hoped he'd be able to see that what she'd done, she could UN-do. She was a little taken aback when she saw Julio Ruiz standing in the middle of the street outside the hospital, arms crossed, looking every bit a combination of bodyguard and disciplinarian.

Rossi saw him, too, and felt anxiety begin to gather in the pit of his stomach. "Whatever you two are going to say to each other, do it out loud, please."

"Of course." Julio nodded his acquiescence. "The doctor is with your friend now. He requests a moment to examine him before seeing you."

To Rossi it sounded eminently logical. It was what all doctors did before speaking to a patient's loved ones. Melinda, however, wouldn't be put off.

"NOOOO! I didn't mean to do it. I have to help! I have to!" Despite Rossi's plea for verbal communication, she pulsed an image fraught with urgency toward both Julio and the doctor. Julio didn't grasp the history or significance of the vision. He saw a babe-in-arms in a rather opulent hotel room. He could tell by the golden eyes that it was Melinda. The disconcerting, amber gaze of the infant sent a chill rippling up Julio's spine. He wasn't sure what the import was, but the intensity of it was like an anguished howl in his mind.

The Palero priest blinked and took an involuntary step backwards.

Melinda interpreted that as permission to pass. Wriggling her hand free of Rossi's, she sprinted toward the hospital's heavy, plate glass doors.

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Aaron...Aaron...it's me...Nathaniel...

The doctor's eyes were closed, his hands resting on Hotch's forehead and chest; their touch heavy and warm. The old man traced familiar paths and recognized new ones; experiences, for better or worse, since the last time they'd met. And more than ever he understood...

This man is worn out. He'll keep going until his last breath, but...such a mirthless life...

The doctor went very still, a frown deepening the creases on his already-lined forehead.