A/N: I forgot this so I am inputting it now. Criminal Minds is the property of the Mark Gordon Company, ABC Studios, and CBS Paramount Network Television. The canon characters are the property of CM and I am just borrowing them right now.

Guilty Until Proven Innocent

"Being a father has been, without a doubt, my greatest source of achievement, pride and inspiration. Fatherhood has taught me about unconditional love, reinforced the importance of giving back and taught me how to be a better person."

Naveen Jain

Chapter 1

He tentatively left his bedroom once the yelling below had stopped and it had suddenly gone quiet. Not that the child didn't enjoy periods of quiet, but for a mysterious reason his child-like mind did not comprehend, this quiet made him uneasy. He made his way to the top of the stairs which led below to the living room, his small hand gripping the balustrade. To him things had become too quiet and it worried him. Had he been left alone in the house?

Only the loudness of tires screeching away from the house shattered the silence.

"Daddy?" the child's scared voice called out getting no answer.

Barefoot and donning blue pajamas, he clung to the railing as he quietly crept along the carpeted steps. With the lateness of the hour, he knew he should have been asleep long ago, but found himself unable to close his eyes again. The loudness and noise from below had not only scared him but kept him awake. So when things became quiet, he decided to sneak downstairs and find out what happened.

"Daddy?" he called out again pausing midway on the staircase. Again getting no answer, the child took another tentative step. "Daddy, where are you?"

With still no reply, the child found it puzzling considering every living room light blazed, and the front door wide open. His dad never left the living room door open, the lights on, and him alone in the house. Something most definitely is wrong. He needed to find his dad. He continued warily along the rest of the steps until he reached the bottom and entered the living room.

His eyes widened at the horror which greeted his eyes. They took in a sight no child should ever be forced to witness. He ran forward as fast as his short legs carried him with fear taking control.

Dave Rossi grumbled in his sleep and turned onto his stomach hoping to block out the incessant ringing. His black lab, Mudgie, lying on the foot of the bed, had been disturbed by his master's actions, raised his head and stared at him, annoyed. But after a few seconds, the dog went back to sleep. But the ringing still continued.

With a groan, Rossi raised himself up on one elbow and glanced at the clock on his nightstand; it read just after two in the morning. As he cursed under his breath in Italian, he switched on the night lamp, grabbed the receiver, and pressed it to his ear.

"Damn it, Aaron, this had better be important! I just fell asleep!" he griped.

"Daddy, please wake up," the small, frightened voice, not directed at him, stopped him in mid-rant. "Don't leave me the way mommy did."

His anger gone, Rossi bolted upright in his bed. Why did Jack Hotchner call him and especially at this hour?

"Jack? What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Rossi didn't need to be a profiler to realize from the boy's voice that something was terribly wrong.

"I'm okay, Uncle Dave. But something's wrong with daddy. He won't wake up for me."

Rossi's blood froze in his veins, and he felt his heart drop into his stomach. Losing his only child when he was only a day old, he considered Hotch a surrogate son and Jack a surrogate grandchild. To lose either of them would be a blow he knew he knew he wouldn't recover from. He was about to ask Jack about his dad again when he heard the boy calling for his father to wake up with no answer.

"Jack, what's wrong with your dad?" Rossi had thrown his covers off and now sat on the edge of the bed, sliding his feet into his slippers.

"I don't know. He's on the floor and won't wake up when I call him. There's a lot of blood and I'm scared he's gonna die like mommy did."

"He won't leave you, I promise. I'm gonna have help there in a few minutes. Rossi reached for and grabbed his cell phone off his night table while he had Jack on his land line. He dialed 911 on his cell. "Is anybody there with you?"

"No."

Rossi got to his feet. He knew what he had to do and do quickly or Hotch might bleed out before help could arrive.

"Listen to me carefully, buddy. I want you to keep trying to wake your dad until help arrives."

"Okay."

Rossi ended his call with Jack. When a 911 operator answered, he gave them Hotch's address, and explained that the injured person was a Federal agent and demanded an ambulance be sent. He next dialed JJ's number, hoping she would be home. Besides living only fifteen minutes away from Hotch, she was also a mother and would know how best to help Jack.

Jennifer Jareau aka JJ, reached an arm out from beneath the blanket covering her entire head, and grabbed the receiver. She hoped to answer the phone quickly before the ringing woke up her two young children sleeping across the hall. She brought the receiver under the covers, pressing it to her ear.

"Hello…" she said sleepily, her eyes still closed.

"JJ, its Rossi."

JJ stifled a yawn as she pulled the cover off her head but kept her eyes closed, her hair mussed. "Please don't tell me we have a case," she asked. "Will and I were asleep. And why…"

"JJ, its Hotch. He's been injured."

Now wide awake, JJ threw back her cover and sat up in bed. Using her free hand, she turned on the lamp on her nightstand. "What happened? Is it bad?"

"Jack just called me. I don't know exactly what happened, but apparently Aaron is unconscious on the floor, there's blood, and he can't wake him. I have an ambulance on the way."

"Is Jack all right?" JJ asked fearfully.

"I think so. At least he said he was all right."

"What do you need me to do?"

"He's alone in the house. I'll head there as soon as I contact the rest of the team. But I need you to go there and be there for him."

"I'm on my way. Bye." JJ hung up her phone as she felt movement beside her.

"What's wrong, Cheri?" asked a sleepy male voice.

"That was Rossi," JJ explained as she hurriedly threw on some clothes. "Somehow Hotch was injured at home. Jack is there alone. Rossi thinks Jack's okay, but he's not sure. He's also got an ambulance on the way and wants me to help Jack until he and the team get there."

JJ's husband, New Orleans Detective, William LaMontagne, raised himself up on one elbow and watched his wife grab her cell phone and credentials off the night table. LaMontagne was friendly with all the members of his wife's team, and considered them part of his family. And the knowledge that one of them had been injured sickened him.

"Want me to come with you? I can take care of Hotch while you look after his son."

"Thanks, but I can handle things," she said as she gave his lips a quick peck. "I need you to stay here and look after Henry and Michael. I'll call you when I get a chance. Gotta go."

She ran out of her bedroom and her front door to her car.

Driving as fast as she dared, JJ arrived at the Hotchner house in record time. She spotted the ambulance, its back doors open, parked outside her boss's home and eased her car behind it. She hurried from behind the wheel and raced toward the house, weaving her way through several uniformed officers going in and out of the Hotchner residence. But when she reached the front steps she was stopped by an officer. She reached for and quickly brought out her credentials, holding them up for him to see. The officer looked into her eyes and could tell she dared him to turn her away or stop her from entering.

Nodding, he allowed her to pass. But as she started up the steps, she was without warning confronted by two attendants coming out the front door carrying a gurney between them on which lay an unconscious Aaron Hotchner. There was a white sheet pulled up to just under his chin. Equally caught off-guard, the attendants paused for a split-second which gave JJ a quick look at her Unit Chief causing her to gasp.

Hotch's face was bloody, battered, and bruised. There was a pressure bandage wrapped around his head and stained with blood. A cervical collar was wrapped around his neck to stabilize his head, and there was an oxygen mask covering his nose and mouth. In fact, if it hadn't been for the rise and fall of his chest, she would have believed him dead.

She covered her mouth with a clenched fist as her eyes welled with tears. It pained her greatly seeing her boss and friend in this deplorable condition. "Who could have done this to him?" she asked herself. "And what about Jack? Did this person hurt him as well?" Her eyes widened as fear permeated her body sending a chill through her. Then as if a robot, she managed to move aside to allow the paramedics to pass her.

"Aunt JJ!" a tiny voice shouted seconds before a small tornado collided with her legs and wrapped its small arms around them causing her to look down.

A sobbing Jack Hotchner clung to her as if clutching a lifeline he was afraid to release. Fear that if he did it would disappear. JJ crouched down to his level and hugged the child, shushing him while rubbing gentle circles on his back. He quieted down only a little before pulling back causing JJ's heart to nearly stop as she looked him up and down, horrified at what she saw.

There was blood on Jack's pajamas, smeared on his face, and staining both hands. There was so much blood on the child that JJ feared Jack might have been injured. But there was just no way to tell for sure without a doctor. It was then she noticed another paramedic standing beside her and guessed he must have brought Jack outside.

"The injured man is an FBI agent and my boss. Where are you taking him?" she asked.

"Franklin General Hospital," the paramedic replied. "He's alive but that's about all."

"I'm okay, Aunt JJ," Jack explained with tears rolling down his cheeks. "I don't need a doctor. I wanna be with daddy."

Being a father himself, the paramedic understood Jack's hysterics, and knew it would be cruel for the small boy to see advance medical aid given in the back of the ambulance. "Ma'am, I assure you the child isn't injured if that's what's scaring you. But we'd like to take him in and have him evaluated anyway. But he'll need to ride in the front of the ambulance."

JJ understood the paramedic's concern. 'Thank you,' she mouthed and got to her feet. "Jack, sweetie, you want to ride in the front of the ambulance? Little kids aren't allowed in the back unless they're hurt."

The boy's eyebrows creased together as he thought. "Can I? I don't want Daddy to be alone."

"Of course you can, son," the paramedic explained with a small smile. He took Jack by the hand, but paused and looked back at the blonde.

"You can follow us in your car, ma'am."

"I'll be right behind you. But I need to call my team first so they can hopefully find out who did this to his father."

Rossi parked his SUV directly outside Aaron Hotchner's house, and slid out from behind the steering wheel while Emily Prentiss climbed out of the front passenger seat; Spencer Reid got out of the back seat.

"So what did JJ say about Hotch when she called?" asked Emily looking at the older man as she shut the vehicle door and tossed a loose strand of her hair over her shoulder.

Rossi let out a deep breath. "Not much except that he appeared to have been badly beaten. She followed the ambulance to Franklin General so she could be with Jack and that he seems okay." He didn't admit how badly he himself wanted to head to the hospital to be with his best friend. But since he was aware he couldn't do anything to help while there, it made more sense for him to help try and find out who did this to Hotch.

"It sounds like this attack on Hotch might be personal," Emily said walking beside Rossi with Reid close behind them. As they approached the uniformed officer who had stopped JJ earlier, Rossi already had his credentials out for review. The officer glimpsed at them, nodded, and allowed the trio to pass,and climb the steps.

"Was Jack able to say anything as to what happened?" asked Reid as they entered the premises.

Rossi took a moment as they walked through the open front door.

"She didn't even try to get him to talk as the poor kid was too frightened at the moment to answer questions. She also wanted him to be checked out by a doctor first and make sure he hadn't been injured. But he is terrified, poor kid, and not up to answering questions at the moment."

"Hopefully later we'll be able to get some answers from him as to what happened here," Prentiss added.

"Hopefully," Reid agreed. "He might be the only one who can tell us who did this to Hotch."

"How come Morgan isn't here?" asked Prentiss glancing around and not seeing the black agent.

Rossi shrugged his shoulders. "No idea. I called him twice at home but all I got was his voicemail. I left a message and told him to meet us at Hotch's. Hopefully he's on his way."

As they walked further into the living room which was crawling with plainclothes detectives, a detective who looked to be in charge, approached the trio and shook hands with Rossi. He also shook hands with Prentiss while Reid gave him an awkward wave of his hand as he didn't shake hands with strangers.

"Agent Rossi, I'm Detective Joshua Brewster," the man announced.

"Detective, this is Agent Emily Prentiss and Doctor Spencer Reid," the older man explained. "Can you tell us anything as to what took place here?"

Brewster let out a deep breath. Realizing he was dealing with an assault on a federal agent, the FBI would take over the case and investigate for themselves. And although he didn't like it, he accepted that fact, as he turned and walked further into the living room with the agents following.

"There's something weird about that. We received a phone call about two in the morning from you. We got here as quickly as we could, and found all the living room lights on, the door wide open, and Agent Hotchner face down on the floor in a pool of his own blood. But what's weird is that about a minute or two before you called, we received a call from an anonymous caller about the same thing."

"Where was his son?" asked Prentiss.

"His son was found clinging to his dad's body refusing to let go even when the paramedics got here."

Prentiss chewed her lower lip as she, Rossi, and Reid exchange looks. Only Rossi's face remained neutral. All three were distressed by the knowledge that Jack had not only present, but may have been witness to his father's attack.

"Where was Agent Hotchner found?" asked a visibly shaken Reid.

Brewster pointed to a medium-size pool of blood soaking the light-colored carpet.

"He was found lying right here in that pool of blood," the detective explained. It was obvious this had affected the detective as well. "At first we thought he was dead because of all the blood." He looked at Prentiss and Reid as Rossi knelt down to get a closer look at the blood pool. "We thought we had a murder case here, so you can imagine our surprise and relief when paramedics told us he was still alive. His eyes narrowed as he noticed Rossi, still kneeling, removing a pair of latex gloves and putting them on.

"Find something?" asked Prentiss as she watched the older man reach into the blood pool and pick up something. Reid put his hands on his knees and leaned over to get a closer look.

"I'm not sure," Rossi said as he held up his hand to get a closer look at what he had found. "Looks like a button from a man's shirt. Can't tell what color it is because of the blood, but it's definitely from a man's shirt." As he got to his feet, he removed an evidence bag from his pocket and dropped the button into it, sealed it, and put it in his pocket until he got it to the lab in Quantico.

"Any sign of a weapon?" Prentiss asked.

"We found an aluminum bat with blood on it beside Agent Hotchner which we believe was used to beat him about the head. He also sustained two stab wounds to his abdomen, but we haven't yet found a knife."

"Where's the bat now?" asked Prentiss, horrified.

"We sent it to our lab."

Prentiss nodded. "We're going to need a copy of that report."

"After our lab is finished, we'll forward everything to Quantico."

Not really paying attention to the exchange between Emily and the detective, but hearing everything said, Rossi removed his gloves. As he did so, he knitted his eyebrows and looked at Brewster.

"You said there was a call from an anonymous caller about the attack on a federal agent having taken place here," Rossi began. "Any idea who made that call?"

The detective crossed his arms and sighed.

"That's another weird thing," he said. "When the 911 call came in, it was determined to have come from inside Agent Hotchner's house."