Aaron Hotchner Whump Collection

Comfort

6 separate situations in which a member of the team takes care of Hotch (because he needs a HUG AND SOME COMFORT)

1.

"Spencer."

Reid jerks at the sudden intrusion, his brain struggling to pull itself from the novel in his lap. "Haley," his eyebrows pinch in confusion before he looks down at his wristwatch and red letters flashback at him the time; 7:15. He's been here for five hours. "I-I..."

She smiles softly, he recognizes the look from earlier. Hotch had given him the same sad-eyed smile as Reid failed to keep the pressure on his wound. Reid had never seen an example of couples adopting one another characteristics before. He finds it to be both unnerving and amazing.

"Lost in your head," she asks, coming further into the room. She glances at him once more before going to Hotch's side. She slides her hand under her husband's, whispering something too soft for Reid to hear and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "He says you have a-a tendency to get lost in your head."

Reid is silent. He's been to their house a few times. Only after Gideon dumps whatever plans they made, it seemed he'd get off the phone with the older man and within the hour Hotch would call. He'd some odd knickknack for Reid to see or a StarTrek marathon to offer.

Haley runs her fingers through Hotch's hair, unsettling it from the hold the gel Hotch had put it in that morning. "It's good you're here," she says, looking up at him instead of Hotch. Haley's an intelligent woman, keeps Hotch on his toes. Reid holds a soft spot for her, she makes him feel warm and safe. The same way Hotch does.

A soft grunt sounds from the bed between them, Hotch shaking his head loose of the oxygen canal. His head is turned, his eyes open and all he sees is Haley. "... tried-" he shifts on the bed, pain shooting up his middle as the movement pulls sore muscles. "Sean?" He croaks the name out, lost in times that passed long ago.

Haley glances up at Reid once before centering her focus on her husband. She soothes him softly, shushing him when he tries to pull away from the IV in his arm and the sheets over his hips. "Aaron-Aaron," she brushes a hand through his hair, smiling when his attention shifts back to her owlish blink. "Hey," she brushes her thumb across his cheek. "Sean is safe. He's in New York, remember? Gonna be a chef."

Hotch swallows thickly, brain turning this information over slowly. "Not-Not a lawyer," he recalls.

Haley smiles with a shake of her head, "no. Not a lawyer." She moves over him and positions the oxygen canal back under his nose. "You're safe too, Aaron." Her smile fades back into that sad-eyed, soft smile from earlier. "Agent Reid is with you," she says motioning her head to Reid.

Reid can see the confusion in Hotch's brow but he turns his head and settles his eyes on Reid. There's no scrutiny. If Reid didn't know better he might say fondness is the crinkle in his supervisor's eyes.

"Your team is okay," Haley adds squeezing his hand. "Everyone's okay."

Concussion. Reid's mind helpfully deduces. They hadn't done a brain scan when Hotch was admitted. There was no real reason to suspect brain trauma with a bullet to the abdomen. Not when Reid hadn't told them about the crack that sounded through the room when Hotch hit the floor.

The concussion is to blame for Hotch's sluggish thoughts and obvious confusion. "Dad?" Reid's never heard Hotch's voice raise to an octave like that, an inflection of fear. Haley's eyebrows tighten, clearly aggravated but not at Hotch or his confusion.

"No," Haley says forcing herself to relax. "He's dead, Aaron."

Reid's never seen so many emotions cross his boss's face at once. Relief immediately followed by sadness and the clench of his fist that Reid loses the meaning to because he can't tell if he's reacting to physical or emotional pain or maybe he's angry.