Hotchniss

3 (The Flu)

"We have the flu, Jessie." Jack lifts his arms for his aunt to pick him up.

"I know baby," she rubs his back and worries silently about how clearly she can hear his congested breathing. "Aaron, when was the last time you gave him medicine."

The man in question comes out of the bathroom fully dressed in a suit and bright red irritated nose," two hours ago."

Jess carries her nephew into her brother-in-laws kitchen. "You better take that off," she pulls some bread out of the cabinet. "You're dead on your feet. I'm sure the team doesn't want you in the office miserable."

Hotch rolls his eyes and sips his coffee with only winces slightly as the warm coffee burns his raw throat.

"How much did your daddy sleep last night, Jack?" Jess asks buttering her toast.

"My tummy hurt last night," Jack says, as if that gives an estimate on time.

"So not alot," Jess says sending Hotch a look.

"Do you think daddy should go to work if you can't go to school?"

"No."

Hotch takes another sip of coffee and it sends him into a coughing fit. Jess dumps his coffee out and hands him water.

" 'm fine." He whimpers harshly as he rubs his chest.

"You don't always have to be 'fine', Aaron. Just take the damn water and let someone help you for once." She forces the cup into his hand.

"You said a bad word, Aunt Jess." Jack whispers in her ear with yawn.

"I know, baby." She soothes rubbibg his back with one hand and pouring cherry medicine with the other.

She seats Jack on the counter and hands him the medicine.

"Now," Jess shakes her head, disappointed, and shuts the cabinets. "I have to go to work, so you boys are going to stay here." She takes Hotch's coffee and replaces it with orange juice," I'll send Uncle Dave over with more medicine and some movies."

She pushes Jack's short bangs back and kisses his forehead," both of you need to rest up."

She shoots another glance at both son and father before she leaves them on their own.

"Come on, buddy." Hotch picks up his son and takes him back to his room.

"You know what, daddy?" Jack mumbles into his father's neck as they walk back.

"What buddy?" Hotch asks laying his sick son on his bed.

"I love you the most." Jack says cuddling under the covers of the soft bed.

"The most?" Hotch asks trading his black dress pants for pajamas.

"Yeah," Jack crawls to Hotch's room for comfort. "The most."

Hotch pulls his son close and tries to push away the thoughts of what Jack's gonna think about him in only a couple years.
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"Hotch? Hotch? Are you sure?" Morgan asks seating on the edge of Emily's desk.

"The flu, at least that's what Jessica thinks." Rossi looks around at the surprisingly concerned faces that look up at him. "I need someone to take over some medicine."

"Oh no."

"I love my fantastic loving leader but I don't want him to be mad at me." Garcia says with a genuine frown.

Rossi locks eyes with Emily," please? He did good with you. Maybe-"

"Rossi I can't-" Rossi cuts her off walking down the cat-walk. "Come on, kid. Please? He's sick. That's gonna be alot easier than picking him up and dragging him around after Foyett. He's more likely to let you help. Please?"

She tries to say no. She really does. "Fine," she mumbles rolling her eyes.

Both of his hands touch her face,"
grazie tesoro." He kisses her cheeks and claps his hands happily.

"It's no problem, really." Emily says trying to suppress the blush creeping up her cheeks. "I can't wait to see Jack."
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"Come on, honey." Emily takes Jack's hand and leads him to the kitchen.

"Is daddy still sleeping?" Jack asks rubbing his eyes with balled fist.

"Yeah," she says seating him up on a chair at the kitchen table. "Daddy's sick too so we're gonna let him sleep."

Emily may have fell out of her name as the Hotchner Babysitter but she still knows how the boys work.

"Mac N' Cheese?" She asks already pulling a box out.

"Can I have oatmeal?"

"Oatmeal?" Emily asks surprised. Jack almost always wants Mac N' Cheese, for any meal.

"Yeah," the little boy replies yawning. "Daddy likes oatmeal."

Hotch liking oatmeal doesn't come to much of a surprise. The man's very traditional.

"Okay, whatever you want."

She finds some oatmeal surprisingly easy on the top shelf and seats to boiling some water.

"How do you like your oatmeal, pal?" She asks stirring in some of the oatmeal.

"I don't remember," Jack says honestly with a sad little pout. Emily's heart instantly melts.

"Well, I suppose we can figure it out can't we?" She pulls down some cinnamon and sugar. "Daddy likes cinnamon. Wanna try it with that?"

Jack nods and Emily makes him a small bowl.

"Well?" She asks, watching him take a small bite.

"I like it," he takes a few more bites and smiles.

"Okay, good." She searches through the Wal-Mart bags for the flu medicine that Rossi specifically said to get. "Okay, I'll be right right back buddy. I have to give daddy some medicine."

She enters Hotch's room slowly, this isn't her first, and makes just enough noise that if he is awake she won't startle him. Which she did a couple times right after Foyett. Accidental, of course, but it still scared the hell out of them both.

"Hotch," she shakes his shoulder and cinnamon brown eyes squint up at her.

"Prentiss?"

"Who else?" She asks opening the day time medicine and tears the wrapper off. "Drink up."

Hotch seats up in the bed, giving her a full flash of bare chest and bed hair. "I'm fine," he says pushing the disgusting medicine away.

"I'm fine," she mimics back. "Drink up."

Hotch frowns but takes a long chug of the nasty orange liquid.

"Don't make that face," Emily rolls her eyes at the very childish face that Hotch makes.

"It's disgusting." He says pulling the sheets realizing how naked he is.

"Well maybe the night time will be better," she says knowing very well that it's not.

"I'm not taking-"

"Oh yes you are." She picks up some tissues discarded on the nightstand.

"Leave it," he says waving a hand at her. "I'll clean it all later."

"Fine." She says knowing that some battles aren't worth fighting. "I'll be right back, I'll bring you some oatmeal."

"Mhmm," he says putting his face back into his pillow. "It's a date."