The Photographer

RICHMOND POLICE DEPARTMENT
Richmond, VA

“Why the hell wasn’t I told about this raid? He may be your man, but this is still my city!” Detective Warren Neal pointed a thick digit in Derek Morgan’s face. The acting Unit Chief didn’t flinch, too drained from the event in question. In reality, he didn’t have to answer the man. He outranked him and had jurisdiction, but playing the FBI card was something Hotch detested, so he wouldn’t do it either. “We know our UnSub is a member of this department. We couldn’t risk him finding out we were coming and kill Hotch before we could get there. Obviously, it didn’t matter since the bastard tried anyways, but we got there in time to save him.” Warren stared at Derek inquisitively. “Hotchner survived? How is that possible? The Photographer brutalized him.” He was impressed by their colleague’s strength, seeing instantly why Aaron was the Unit Chief.

Derek ran his hand across his tired face, nodding slightly. “Hotch is in a coma. We believe the UnSub shot him after Hotch managed to remove his ski mask and figured out who he was in a fit of rage. Right now, he’s the only one who can tell us who this bastard is. We just have to wait for him to wake up.” If he wakes up. Derek no longer had the energy to fight the voices of doubt and self-hatred that were echoing through his mind.

Neal sensed Derek’s fatigue and let the disagreement go. There was no need to burden the man further. “Why don’t you head back to the hotel and get some rest? CSU is still processing the scene and your team is with Agent Hotchner. I’ll call you if we find anything.” The elder detective gave Morgan’s good arm a reassuring clap before walking away. Derek knew Neal was right, but he just couldn’t allow himself to relax while Hotch was fighting for his life and his attacker was still free. No, he still had a list of eighty names to narrow down. No one was safe from suspicion. No one.

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RAPPAHANNOCK GENERAL HOSPITAL – INTENSIVE CARE UNIT
Richmond, VA

Aaron laid on the hospital bed motionlessly, the only sign of life coming from him the weak beeping of the heart monitor. His bruised and burned skin was a sickening contrast to the white hospital sheet, almost a metaphor for how the UnSub had ‘tainted’ Hotch. The doctors were in and out of his room, not wanting him to be left unattended for a very long period of time. The team wasn’t allowed in the room with the injured man, forced to observe him with Jessica on the opposite side of a glass window that looked into his room.

Various levels of fatigue were present in each person’s face, further indicated by the amounts of bad coffee they had consumed. No one dared to leave, afraid something would happen if they did. The doctor’s hadn’t told them anything since informing them Aaron was in a coma, something they couldn’t decide whether it was good or not.

Inside the room, Hotch seemed to peaceful, completely different from what no one could see was going on inside his restless mind.

He looked around the room at the blood soaked walls. “Where the hell am I?” Hotch’s vision was blurry, most likely from a blow to the head. He heard a small boy’s sharp cry of pain from behind him. A chill ran down his spine as he reached for his sidearm that was missing, as was his backup. That sob was so familiar. Unable to remain in suspense, Aaron slowly moved towards the noise, stopping at a heavy door. There was another cry of pain before he kicked the door open. He thought he was prepared for what was on the other side. He was wrong.

Aaron Hotchner fell to his knees in utter despair at the sight before him. “No…. NO! Jack! No….” The Photographer stood over a decapitated and dismembered Jack Hotchner, a sick Joker-esque grin etched on his face. “Glad you could make it, Aaron.” Hotch began convulsing, no longer able to breathe. The eyes in his son’s detached head fluttered open and looked at his father disgustedly. “You weak, Daddy. I hate you.” The eyes fell closed as everything spun away from Hotch, fading into darkness. He heard beeping in the distance along with a faint yell of ‘clear’. His team was too late. Jack was gone.

“CLEAR!” The doctor pressed the defibrillator against Hotch’s bare chest in an attempt to bring him back. “Damnit! C’mon Aaron, right!” He rubbed the paddles together again. “CLEAR!” Hotch’s back lifted off the bed as the jolt of electricity ran through him. The steady beeping of the heart monitor returned as Hotch returned to the land of the living. Once he was stable, the doctor’s left him, Reid the only one watching him now. Jessica had nearly fainted so Rossi had to carry her to the waiting room with Emily and JJ.

Just as Reid was about to join the team, he heard a sharp intake of breath accompanied by the steady increase of beeping from the heart monitor. Hotch was awake, but he was delirious. “Hotch! Hotch calm down!” He gently grabbed the man’s wrists, not needing to use much force to restrain him in his weakened state. “That fucking bastard… will pay…” His breathing was labored and his voice was weak as he locked his wild eyes on Reid’s. “Spencer… The Photographer… he killed my… son… He killed…” He couldn’t say his son’s name before he succumbed to a coughing fit. Reid was frozen with shock after hearing the terror in Hotch’s voice. It wasn’t right.

The young doctor shook his head, not daring to release Hotch from his hold. “No, Hotch, Jack and Jessica were in protective custody. They’re here, now, waiting for you to wake up.” He saw the confusion in his superior’s eyes as he tried to process the information. “But… how? I just saw Jack… he was… his head wasn’t even…” Pain caused Hotch’s face to contort as he tried to sit up, the gunshot wounds preventing him from doing so. Spencer shook his head as he motioned to one of the nurses. He knew Hotch needed a sedative. In his current state, he was a danger to himself. “Hotch, it was just a trauma induced dream. Jack is fine, I promise.” He let go of his superior as the nurse administered a drug into Hotch’s IV that sent him into a dreamless slumber. He had to rest to get better.

“Hotch woke up from his coma, but they gave him a sedative. He woke up in a frantic state, yelling about seeing the Photographer kill Jack. It was a nightmare and I assured him that Jack was safe, but the doctors want him resting.” Spencer placed his slender hands in his pockets nervously as Jessica gasped in relief. JJ met his eyes inquisitively. “Did he tell you who the UnSub is?” Reid shook his head. “No, he was too panicked. I don’t think he even knew where he was. He was just concerned about Jack.” She nodded in understanding before turning to Jessica. “Come on, I’ll take you back to the hotel. Hotch is going to be ok and you staying up all night won’t help him.” JJ knew Jessica didn’t need to hear the case details the three other agents were going to go over.

Rossi waited until the two women were out of ear shot before speaking. “How bad was it?” Spencer shrugged his shoulders in uncertainty. “He has a severe concussion which certainly isn’t helping him any. I think he’ll be more lucid and aware when he wakes again.” Emily’s gaze had drifted over to where Hotch was resting, a thousand thoughts running through her mind at once. “So do we wait for him to tell us who this bastard is? Or do we go back to the list?” It was a good question. For now, they were going to remain at the hospital, per Morgan’s orders. Hopefully he would come back with a better idea of who the UnSub was.

The three ventured back over to the chairs and pulled out the files they had brought. There was no reason why they couldn’t work on eliminating suspects while they waited for Hotch to wake up. “Ok, Emily and Reid, you get twenty-three each. I’ll take twenty-four. Look for something that just seemed to conveniently alibi them that could be explained. Unless there is one hundred percent solid evidence to support said alibi, they stay on the list.” Emily and Spencer nodded in compliance with Rossi’s orders. It was going to take effort to find this UnSub, but they would do it. They had to.