He was only a boy when he was first expose to the violence of the world. He remembered coming home and hearing screams of his mother and the yells of his father. He doesn't remember when the abuse started. For the longest time, his mother was the only victim of his father's abuse. But overtime, he became the main punching bag of his father.

The first time it happened was also the first time he tried to stand up for his mother. He thought he was strong enough, but as his father's hands pushed him to the floor and his boots came into contact with his torso, the boy realized he wasn't strong enough.

For years, every time Aaron Hotchner looked at his chest, all he saw was bruises. Bruises that reminded him of how weak he was. Bruises that made him hate his chest.

In the beginning, he thought being an FBI agent would be a fulfilling job. He thought he would help people. He knew he wouldn't be able to save everyone. But at the end of the day he thought people would be happy that he helped. But that wasn't always the case.

He was still a rookie in the BAU when it happened. A case in Georgia. It wasn't anyone's fault, but he still hold the guilt of that case today. The profile was spot on and the unsub was quickly located. So he called the mother of the missing victim and told her she would see her daughter soon.

No one could have predicted what would have happened. No one could have known that the unsub would see the police and FBI pull into his driveway. No one could have known that the unsub would feel so threatened by the police showing up that he would kill the victim before turning the gun on himself.

Aaron was the one to break the news to the mother. Sobs were the only sounds as her tiny fist pummeled Aaron's chest. She kept repeating, "you said she was alive" as her fists banged against his chest. And he couldn't do anything to stop it. He could have wrapped his arms around the poor broken woman and tried to comfort her. He could have held her hands and remove them from his chest. He could have just left. But he soon realized her sobs weren't the only ones in the room.

So he let her hit his chest, hoping her pain would be released. He only hoped that the pain in his chest would one day be released.

He didn't want to even look at his chest after Foyet. He was just reminded of how he failed Haley.

He could still feel each time the blade went into his chest. He could still feel the pain and guilt.

He wouldn't even go shirtless in the house. He wore a shirt in the swimming pool. He locked his door while he showered or got dressed in case his son walked in and saw the scars that marred his chest.

Her lips were beyond sweet and he couldn't get enough of them. He kissed and nipped and loved her lips. Her hands roamed everywhere. She cupped his face in her hands, she rubbed his back, she stroke down his arms.

He had to have her. In one quick motion, he wrapped his hands on the back of her upper thighs and lifted her into the air. Her giggles filled the air as her legs came to wrap around his waist. He smiled at her laughs and carried her to the bedroom before throwing her onto the bed.

It didn't take long before he was hovering above her, tugging at her shirt. He was leaving marks on her neck that she was sure to be mad about tomorrow when her hands went for the buttons on his shirt.

At first he froze. He didn't want her to see his chest. He should've turned off the bedroom lights. He should've known. His chest was ugly and she wouldn't want him once she saw the scars that painted his chest.

"Hey, we all have scars, okay. I already told you I would love you no matter what. Let me love you."

He nodded his head and she continued taking off his shirt. She was truly something else he decided. He never understood how she knew him so well. But she did.

They made love that night. It wasn't the first time they made love, but it was the first time they did with the lights on and chest and scars shown and loved.

He hated seeing her in pain. She cradled her ribs and he was sure, there was already angry purple bruises formed on her torso.

She was lucky. She was wearing a vest when the bullet hit her. But that didn't stop the fact that Aaron was going insane with worry about her in pain. She told him countless times she was okay. She pointed out many times that the doctors said she was okay. But that didn't stop his worry.

They laid in bed for awhile. The only position that seemed to be comfortable was on her back. She usually slept on her side. She usually slept with him spooning her. She couldn't sleep, and she could tell he wasn't asleep either. With careful and cautious moves, she gently laid her head on his chest as his arm came to wrap around her shoulder.

"The doctor told me something else while we was looking at the x-ray of my ribs," her voice cut through the night.

"what's that?"

"I'm pregnant. 12 weeks. The doctor said the baby was fine though, even with everything that happened today"

He was truly happy. He was going to be a dad again. He glanced down to the woman that was laying on his chest. He wanted to hug her tighter and thank her for making him a father again, but he knew that would only cause her pain. He kissed the top of her head, told her how happy he was.

She fell asleep shortly after that, but he stayed awake. He stayed awake and stared at the beauty laying on his chest. His chest may be ugly, but the mother of his child made it instantly beautiful by laying on it.

She had her mother's eyes and lips. She also had her mother's ears and hair. He wasn't for sure Emily didn't clone herself. He wouldn't object necessarily. In his opinion, the world could use more of her beautiful face.

The new mother was silently sleeping when their daughter started to cry. He quickly went and picked her up out of her crib. She had already ate and she wasn't wet. Aaron assumed she just wanted to be held.

He sat down in the rocking chair in the nursery. He cradled his newborn daughter to his chest and watched as she relaxed.