Note: This started out as one of those incessant little plot bunnies that just kept nibbling at my brain so finally I had to let it out. I didn't originally plan on publishing this, but then I showed it to some of my friends and... well, they're a little hard to say no to.

This is going to be very short, mostly because I wanted to write something that wouldn't take up too much of my time, but I hope that it's still enjoyable. I have most of it written already, so it shouldn't take too long to get the whole thing up.

This takes place sometime during season two, because I can't seem to write for any other season... yet.

"When the doorbell rings at three in the morning, it's never good news." -Anthony Horowitz, Alex Rider: Stormbreaker

When Hotch wakes up, it's dark still.

Morning hasn't come yet.

A glance at his bedside clock tells him it's only a little past three AM. Meaning the alarm isn't set to go off for another few hours.

That's not what woke him.

All he knows is something, some sound, woke him, but all is quiet now.

Beside him, Haley stirs. "Aaron, what…?"

"It's nothing, Haley," he reassures her. "Go back to sleep."

He still has no idea why he woke. It could very well be nothing.

Something tells him it's not.

His phone rings again from its place on the dresser.

Closing his eyes, he suppresses a groan. Calls in the middle of the night are never to share good news, especially not in his line of work, and he'd been hoping for some family time with Jack and Haley.

He picks it up, checks the ID and frowns.

Reid is never the one to call him at this time of night.

Not for a case. Not for anything really.

With a growing sense of foreboding, Hotch answers. "Hello?"

"Hotch?"

It's Reid, but his voice is small, trembling.

It's enough to send Hotch bolting upright in bed, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

Haley sits up, tugging at her nightgown.

"Reid? What's going on? Are you alright?"

"I… yeah, I… I."

There's a sharp intake of breath, as if the speaker is in pain.

A voice murmurs on the other end, low and threatening.

Something cold ices over Hotch's blood and he clenches the phone a little tighter.

"Reid, what…"

He doesn't get any further. Reid cuts him off.

"My apartment," Reid manages. "He wants you here. Hotch, don't come, he's…"

His voice is suddenly muffled, likely by a hand gripping his face, and he falls silent.

"Reid!"

Hotch can't keep the anxiety out of his voice, despite knowing what Haley must be thinking.

A new voice comes over the phone. "Thirty minutes, Agent Hotchner," it says, emotionless, robotic.

And then it hangs up.

"Aaron?" Haley's hand is on his arm and she's worried and more than just a little scared. "What's going on?"

His mouth opens almost automatically to tell her, as he's told her so many times, "It's nothing. I'll handle it. Go back to sleep." He shuts it, and quickly gets out of bed, reaching for his work clothes.

"Aaron?" Haley is still waiting for an explanation and he owes it to her to give her one. "Where are you going?"
"I need you to call my team," he tells her. "Tell them someone has Reid, and whoever it is, he expects me to be at his apartment in half an hour."

Haley's hand moves to her mouth. A wetness gathers at the corners of her eyes. "Aaron, whoever this is…"

"Haley." Hotch take. "I need you to call my team. But I need you to wait ten minutes. I need to make sure I can get there first."

"But…"

"Ten minutes, Haley. Then I need you to call them." He gives her a steady look, one that he hopes will reassure her. "I need to do this, Haley."

She swallows, resignation and fear overtaking her features. "Just… just promise me you'll come back safe."

"I'm going to try."
Right now, it's as good as he can give.