That awkward moment when you're reading over your fanfiction, trying to figure out how to start up again, and you realize it's completely unrealistic. Seriously, they should have taken Hotch to a hospital by now. Oops.

"This is a mistake." Hotch muttered, feeling uneasy. He didn't want Rossi to see him like this.

"I think it was a mistake not to take you straight to the hospital."

There was a knock at the door. "That didn't take long." Hotch grabbed a sheet and threw it over his lower half. He'd almost forgotten he was wearing nothing but boxers. There was no need to sacrifice all of his dignity.

Emily quickly opened the door and let Rossi in.

"Okay, what have you crazy kids done now?"

He walked over to the bed, and nearly dropped his first aid kit. "Aaron, what the hell?"

Hotch couldn't meet his gaze.

"Did someone attack you? Why aren't we arresting anyone? Or a better question, why the hell haven't you taken him to the hospital?"

"I told you this was a mistake."

"Will someone please tell me what's going on?"

Hotch looked to Prentiss. "I can't do this," He whispered.

She sighed, squeezing his hand in a gesture of comfort.

"Aaron did this to himself, Rossi. There's no one to arrest."

Rossi just stared at them in shock for a moment. Shock turned to realization. "I knew it. Goddammit, Aaron." He opened up the first aid kit and set to work.

Hotch blinked. Just like that? Rossi sure knew how to roll with the punches. "You knew?"

"Ever since you almost threw yourself off a building."

"That was different-"

"Yes, self-harm and suicide are different. I know. But I could tell there was something more going on." Rossi dabbed the wounds with disinfectant, and Hotch had to bite his lip to keep from crying out.

Prentiss was trying not to cry as well. It hurt to see him like this. Rossi finished stitching him up, and together they bandaged the wounds.

"If there are any complications; any, we are taking you to the hospital. Do you understand?" Rossi glared.

"Yes, sir."

"Good."

Hotch felt horrible. First he had dragged Prentiss into this, now Rossi. "You're, uh, not going to tell anyone, are you?"

Wrong question.

"What if I did?" Rossi challenged angrily. "I should."

"Please,"

"You need help!"

"That's what I keep telling him." Prentiss sighed.

"Aaron, this has to stop."

"It will, I promise." He said weakly.

Rossi sighed. "We can talk about this in the morning. You need to rest. Prentiss, stay with him tonight. Make sure he doesn't do anything more stupid than he's already done."

Hotch started to protest, but Rossi cut him off.

"Look, we all know you're a couple. There's no need to hide it. The team won't suspect anything else is wrong."

"Okay," Hotch nodded. "And...thank you."

Rossi gave a noise of acknowledgment, and left the room. It didn't take a profiler to see that he was upset.

"God, I'm so stupid."

"Hey," Prentiss carefully climbed onto the bed and lay on her side next to him. "You're not stupid. You're in pain. That makes us do stupid things sometimes."

"Hm."

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine. Hurts a little."

"It probably hurts more than a little. If we went to the hospital they would give you pain pills." She pointed out again.

"I can handle the pain."

"Just because you can doesn't mean you should."

He laughed half-heartedly. "Why do I feel like that has an ulterior meaning?"

She rolled her eyes. "Go to sleep, Aaron."

Back in his room, Rossi was regretting his decision not to take Hotch to the hospital. What was the kid thinking? He knew Aaron was struggling, but he seemed better since he and Prentiss had gotten together. This was one hell of a relapse.

He had just started to get ready for bed when his cell phone rang. "Prentiss?"

"Hey, Aaron is asleep. Can we talk?" Her voice was quiet.

"Yeah, definitely."

"How are you doing?"

"How am I doing? How's he doing?"

"Sleeping as well as can be expected."

Rossi sighed. "I'm alright, just trying to process everything. What the hell happened?"

"He's been doing so well...but everything with Sean..."

"Makes sense. Are his relapses normally this bad, though?"

"I don't think so. He's actually really careful about the whole thing. This was an anomaly. He told me he couldn't feel it." Prentiss

Rossi wasn't surprised. Hotch was the definition of overly cautious. When he finally snapped, it was always intense. "He couldn't feel it?"

"I'm thinking adrenaline."

"Probably. Or dissociation. Either way, the kid needs help, Emily."

"I know, I just don't know what to do. His career is at stake here."

"Prentiss, his life is at stake."

She was quiet for a moment. "You said it yourself, self-harm and suicide are very different."

"But we know he's been suicidal. And what if he relapses worse in the future? He could accidentally kill himself."

"He's too careful-"

"Except for tonight. If you hadn't shown up, he could have bled out."

"But he called me...that counts for something, doesn't it?"

"Does it?"

He heard faint sniffling, and realized she was crying. "I don't know what to do," She confessed. "I can't lose him. I don't feel like he would open up to a therapist. You know him, he barely talks to me."

"Well he needs to start talking to someone." He sighed. "Try to get some rest. It's been a long day. We could use the sleep. We'll deal with it in the morning."