CHAPTER 42: Psychodrama (Season 2, episode 4)

Character(s): Hotch, Jack, Haley

A/N: Some reference to/spoilers for the episode's case.

"It doesn't matter who my father was; it matters who I remember he was." – Anne Sexton

"Jack?"

"Daddy!"

Music to my ears. Hotch smiled as he moved to pick up his son. "Hi, buddy. I missed you," he murmured, hugging him to his chest. "Feel okay?"

Jack nodded.

"I'm really sorry I wasn't able to go to the hospital with you. Can you forgive me?"

Jack stared at Hotch for a moment, then draped his blanket over his dad's face, letting out a small laugh.

"I'll take that as a yes." Hotch chuckled, prying the blanket away. "Can't sleep tonight?" Haley had mentioned he'd been a little restless throughout the evening. She guessed his problem stemmed from bad dreams over the recent hospital visit. She hadn't meant to make Hotch feel guilty with that statement, but that didn't stop him from feeling the ache anyway.

"Here, buddy. Let's read for a while, shall we?" He scanned the shelf for Jack's favorite book, settled in the rocking chair, Jack on his lap, and began the story.

About halfway through, Jack eventually nodded off, but Hotch didn't put him back in his crib right away. He held his son for a while, staring at him.

Jack had been standing in his crib when Hotch came in. He seemed to have become fairly good at balancing on his little legs. After Jack's first steps, Haley had shown Hotch all the spots in the house that she'd begun childproofing.

Later that night, while in the living room doing reports, Hotch had a sudden moment of panic. What if he hadn't noticed something was childproofed? What if he moved something accidentally, and Jack got into it? What if Haley hadn't had a chance to get that done, and he was out of town?

Something could've happened to his son, and he wouldn't have known until it was too late.

Like this hospital visit. He was at a meeting instead of by his wife and son's side. What if the news had been bad? Haley had nobody there to turn to, to comfort her. Sure, he would've immediately left work if the news had been bad, but he should've been there for the good news, too.

Jack asked for me, and I wasn't there.

Was it always going to be like this? Missing hospital visits, not helping to keep the house safe, missing the milestones in Jack's life – first words, first steps, first day of school? Morgan didn't get it. Hotch could make all the new videos he wanted when he was home, and they'd be wonderful and fun and sweet.

But it just wouldn't be the same as those "firsts". He was deeply grateful to Haley for telling him about everything that happened in Jack's life, but damnit, he deserved to be the first one to know or learn a few things about his own son, too. What was it Haley had said before he left for Los Angeles?

"I don't want you to wake up someday in some random city, and realize that you don't know your own son."

His dad was like that. His dad didn't give a damn about his kids, didn't bother to be involved in their lives the way a father should've been. He'd seen so many examples through his job of what happened to people who grew up in homes without decent father figures, if they even had any at all. The bastard (he still couldn't bring himself to acknowledge the latest unsub by name) in this last case lost his dad at a young age, and was left in the care of a deeply unstable mother.

"They're going to have to learn sooner or later that nobody's there for you!"

That was the creep's message he wanted to send. Nobody gave a damn about him, so what made him think people could possibly care about anyone else? He didn't understand the concept of a happy family.

Hotch hadn't either at first as a kid, to be honest. Not until he went to a friend's house for a sleepover once, when he was seven. His friend's parents asked him how his day was. They'd brought him his favorite snack at the grocery store. The entire family sat down together for dinner, Hotch having been invited (and he'd accepted), and all the while they laughed and gently teased and actually talked to each other. His parents had even given him hugs and kisses goodnight, much to the boy's embarrassment.

It was a revelation to the young Aaron Hotchner. His mother did her best – he'd never resented or hated her. She did show affection sometimes, always saw to it her children were properly fed and clothed, and helped them with their schoolwork when she wasn't at work.

But his father's presence loomed over the family, and any happy moments with his mom rarely lasted long when his father got involved. Hotch often spent many late afternoons at school helping teachers, or being involved in school activities, hanging out at friends' homes or at the library, just to avoid going home some nights.

He didn't really want to think about the possible unintended implications of his constant late nights spent at the BAU before heading home.

There was one thing to be grateful for, at least. He hadn't inherited his father's abusive temper. Looking down at Jack, the very thought of laying a hand on his son in a violent manner made him physically ill. He couldn't even bear the thought of a simple spanking. And Haley…he'd be the first to punch anyone who dared lay a hand on her, or tried to hurt her in any way.

The woman in that video of the hostage situation had looked so much like Haley. Same light blonde hair, same slender build. Hotch couldn't help envisioning a teenaged Jack being forced to attack Haley, and it'd taken up to the plane ride home, when he'd finally gotten a chance to call his wife, for that image to go away.

How did he do it? How did he manage to escape an unstable home life without turning to a life of crime, while the jackass on that case became hopped up on meth and decided to threaten innocent people's lives and play twisted games with them? He'd asked that question of Gideon on the ride home, and even he couldn't provide a decent explanation. Was there any logical explanation? Was it all just some random twist of fate? Hotch never had really liked the idea of not being able to have control over anything.

"Hey."

Hotch was snapped from his reverie then, looking up to see Haley standing in the doorway. She smiled at the image of a sleeping Jack, cuddled against his father. "Coming back to bed?"

"Yeah. Just…wanted to spend a little time with him," Hotch said softly, nodding to the little boy in his arms. "I missed him these last few days."

Haley nodded her understanding, coming over to stand by the crib as she watched Hotch tentatively cross the room. He laid a kiss on Jack's forehead before gently settling him back in his bed. Then he turned to embrace Haley, holding her tightly in his arms for a few moments.

Not that she minded. She easily welcomed the affectionate gesture, rubbing Hotch's back. "You okay?" she asked as they pulled back.

"Yeah. I will be."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Haley ran her hand along his arm. She knew that look all too well. The case had obviously been a rough one for him.

"Tomorrow? Right now I just want to be by you."

Haley nodded. Better to spare both of them any nightmares the rest of the night. "Okay. Let's go to bed."

Hotch leaned in to give her a soft kiss. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

Wrapping her arms around his waist, Haley snuggled into Hotch's embrace as they headed off to bed.

"He wants to live on through something – and in his case, his masterpiece is his son. All of us want that, and it gets more poignant as we get more anonymous in this world." – Arthur Miller