"How could you do that to me, Spencer?" Hotch thundered, grabbing the agent by the shoulders and squeezing hysterically hard. He gave Reid a shake, eyes flaring with rage. "Don't you dare scare me like that ever again!" His features were hardened so much so that they looked as though they had been cast in bronze.

Reid looked down, the rain sliding off his sloped nose. He picked at his bloody fingernails but he could feel Hotch's fury radiating out of his body. He forced his eyes upwards to see only sheer terror in Hotch's face, surprising tears pricking the corners of his dark eyes. He had never felt such a strong tie to the man in front of him and he swallowed his burning regret.

"The UnSub would have reacted badly to authority…..I-I...was following the profile, Aaron. I acted purely on instinct." Reid raised a hand to touch Hotch's arm but the Unit Chief moved out of the way, comfort the last thing on his mind.

Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose to avoid throttling the young man in front of him. He could feel the rain soaking his dress shirt and Kevlar, settling both items like a weight on his chest. The gunshots and images rang out like continuous sirens in his mind. Reid on the ground….blood splatter covering his shirt…Hotch launching himself at the UnSub…his bruised knuckles slamming into the man below him.

It was all too, too, much like Hayley. He had let his emotions strip away his rational thinking. Reid brought out the pure monster in him, the monster he worked so hard to bury deep within himself. He closed his eyes as he recalled.

As he remembered.

The color had been a vicious vermillion on his hands. The sound had been sticky static over the communication piece placed solidly in his ear. The smell had been damp, deathly. The feeling was something that had seared itself onto the heart of one Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner and it clung to him like rotting flesh to bone.

It could have been mere moments or hours earlier since he had listened to the profile echoing in his ears. White male, between the ages of 30 to 45, around 6ft and physically fit, most likely suffering from the loss of his own family, medical background though he was unorganized and irrational, no respect for authority. The description continued. It had felt like hours since he had barreled into one of the Bureau SUVs with Rossi and Prentiss after a tip came through that a man matching the description to their profile had been spotted entering a house by a neighbor in downtown North Dakota. Hours since they had been at a standstill outside the house, watching as a Mr. Jason Ford held the two remaining members of the Straiton family hostage, armed with a Sig 1911 and a large kitchen knife.

It could have been mere moments or hours earlier since he had watched Reid walking calmly into the residence of the Straiton family, Revolver and Kevlar abandoned with Prentiss. He had protested, teeth grinding together in fury and anxiety, but Reid had been persistent. The question are you questioning my profiling skills hung in the air and Hotch couldn't hold the man back. His weapon was the fact that he did not resemble the stereotypical FBI agent.

"Hotch if you go in, he'll see you as the enemy. He'll react violently to your Alpha Male personality."

I'll stay safe. It was unspoken but implied. I promise, Aaron.

The Unit Chief was suffocated by the overwhelming scent of his sweat that seemed to pour in rivers down between his shoulder blades to pool in the small of his back.

Reid's voice had conveyed a wavering confidence and Hotch knew Reid was reacting negatively to the scene around him. He had known this was going to end badly after he had comforted Reid back at the first crime scene, holding his hand out in the snow only days ago. They had three dead now when they arrived with the mother and daughter were being held hostage.

"I'm with the FBI." Reid's voice was so small. So unsure.

Hotch's heart slammed against his ribcage and he wanted to claw his way through the SWAT men that were stationed at the front patio of the house. The thought of his Reid in danger made him want to dry heave. His agent. His…lover.

A smattering of rain had begun to drizzle from the skies, clouding Hotch's vision for a few seconds. His earpiece crackled and Reid's small voice grew panicked.

"Please-"

"Hotch!" Morgan's voice had already come and gone as the Unit Chief neared the front door behind SWAT. He wasn't listening.

A white hot flash of anger exploded within Hotch's chest as he heard Reid grunt in pain as he was hit in the stomach by the gun.

No. No. No. No.

He couldn't lose Reid. No. God no. It was all too fucking similar. His harsh breaths were pushed through his nose like a dragon and his fingers curled around the trigger of his gun.

"Agent Hotchner!" The no-name LEO. A hand had clapped down on his shoulder to prevent him from entering the house to go after Reid and he whirled around, almost aiming his Glock at the officer.

"I'm going after my agent." Hotch leaned in close, disgusted by the smell of nicotine on the man's breath. "Stay out of my way," he growled before his right foot had come slamming down against the wood of the door. Darkness enveloped him from the unlit front hallway and his eyes narrowed. He felt as though he had entered a tunnel, the end only becoming Reid's safety. He had needed to feel the man in his arms. To savor the feeling of a warm body against another.

He hadn't wanted to let the light die. Not like this.

Three breathes. Three steps forward.

Reid's pain was palpable through the earpiece as another grunt escaped his lips and the gun came down again against his forehead. The sound of a body dropping to the floor came over the speaker.

Through another door.

Clear.

Living room.

Clear.

They were in the kitchen.

Breathe. Lunge.

"FBI, drop your weapon!"

He had been faced with blue eyes as cold and clear as glass. A huge behemoth of a man hovered over Reid and his young agent, the man who had made his heart swell, lay on the floor among the blood of the victims, only minor bruises surfacing.

Hotch felt his feet lift on their own accord, gun firing steadily, and legs tightening and loosening with each charging movement. Fists balled together and connected with the UnSub, Reid becoming the invisible motivation as Hotch had let the ugly side in him inhibit his body.

Reid relinquished his fighting breaths to the darkness.

He had sunk down to his knees; the sound of footsteps and gunshots erupting had caused an achingly painful burn in his ears and throat.

He slumped into suspended arms, eyes slowly shutting despite the cries and pleas of Aaron Hotchner that swirled in muggy blackness around his mercifully blank mind.

Hotch opened his eyes again, meeting Reid's wet hazel ones. His body was cold as he relived his past actions. The image of Reid on the floor made his blood scalding hot and it was directed at the man in front of him.

How could he leave Hotch in the same situation he had been only a year ago?

They were explosive as a pair, both in the good and the bad nature, and they were volatile in their feelings for each other. That was evident. But Hotch knew that what few sparkles they held in their hearts for each other had the potential to liquidate to rage as soon as it appeared and disappeared. They couldn't mix personal and professional without the man's demons coming to light whenever Reid abandoned his rationality.

"I can't do this anymore, Spencer."

Reid's intake of breath was audible despite the shriek of the rain that fell around them. His expression looked like someone had slapped him viciously across the face.

"Wha-What?"

"I can't fucking do this, Reid!" Hotch exploded, slamming a hand down on the hood of the Suburban, but Reid didn't seem to notice it. He remained stoic, staring into his superior's eyes with unadulterated vehemence. It was a look Hotch had only witnessed once over the time of Reid's Dilaudid addiction. But just as quickly as it had flashed in his eyes it died, replaced by an overwhelming mixture of hurt and confusion.

"Why?"

"I don't have to justify my actions, Reid!"

"No. You don't." Reid crossed his arms and swallowed. "But you do have to justify them to me. Spencer. Not to your subordinate, not to SSA Dr. Reid but to your friend, Spencer, who would give you the world if he could. To the man who came to your door at God only knows what time to make sure that you were okay. That you would be okay."

"I would have been okay without you." Hotch lied. He knew it wasn't true but he had no other escape out of the conversation. He knew he could completely shatter Reid, put him down, but he also knew he would be the one to have further to fall if he lost the man.

Reid looked down once more, observing the pools of dirty water that collected in the wells of his loafers. He thought in hearing those words he would feel as though his body was on fire but it unnervingly different. It was like a blunt ache that seeped from each crevice of his body, like someone dragging ragged glass over his limbs. He took one last calming breath before he spoke, for he knew his next words would surely sever any chance of tranquility.

"I wasted my time with you," he finally whispered sadly.

Hotch didn't reply but his lips twisted in anguish at those words. It was an uncanny mirroring of Hayley who spoke those same words only a year ago. And the hardest part to swallow was that it was probably true.

Why the fuck did Reid put up with me?

"I'm sorry but it was too…I was too-" Hotch let the words die, struggling to keep his voice from cracking.

Reid let out an airless sob, letting himself break completely. "I just…. I felt like I was drowning, Aaron. I was loosing myself in you. But I never wanted to give up. You have to understand that." He choked on his breath as he fought with keeping his tone from becoming hysterical. "If you wish to end it then I have to respect your decision."

Hotch nodded, squeezing his eyes shut. He understood. He had been served. He had lost himself in Reid just the same way.

"I'm better off alone. Trust me."

Reid stepped forward and cupped Hotch's cheek, smoothing away a tear. "I think because you know I'll always be there…maybe that's why you don't care. Don't forget."

"I won't." Hotch took Reid's hand in his and kissed the palm, flattening it against his face, drinking in the feeling of the soft skin on his rough cheek and savoring the feeling for all that it was worth. Because it would be gone soon, he knew. "It's been me pulling you into the dark, Spencer. And you can't let me."

They fell asleep together for the last time in Hotch's bed, Reid held tightly in his lover's arms and Hotch's hands drawing lazy patterns up and down his back as he had on that fateful night in Pennsylvania. It was dawn when the Unit Chief awoke, arms roaming instinctively for his partner. He felt his chest tighten as he realized he was waking up to an empty room for the first time in weeks and he moved to sit with his head in his hands on the edge of the bed.

Tears couldn't come for all they had shed.

He had fought too little for them and he was now too late to stop it.

The windows had been opened with Reid's departure and the weak sun poured through, illuminating a pool of radiance on the carpet floor.

He was broken…burned…and he closed his eyes in defeat.

A suddenly, one single tear fell loose from under damped eyelashes, rolling slowly over his cheek down to his lips.

The lips Spencer Reid had kissed.

Another tear came. Then another.

Before Hotch knew it he was crying. Crying for all that he had given up. For all that he had missed out on. For all that he couldn't give to Reid, the person he wanted to give it all too. It wasn't even understandable but he cried for the loss of opportunities and for the regrets of shattering the young agent to pieces with his reckless words. He had figuratively beaten the life out of the man.

He clenched his hands together.

The hands Spencer Reid had held in his own.

Spencer Reid, who he had watched walk away and out of his life.

And finally.

Finally it was light.

Thank you for everyone who has reviewed and supported this story! It really means a lot! This chapter was probably the hardest to write and I'll admit, I cried a little while doing so. Again, thank you!

Please review!