Title: In Our Other Lives
Fandom: Criminal Minds (2005), (c) Jeff Davis
Characters/Pairings: Jack Hotchner; Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid; Spencer Reid/Lila Archer; Jack Hotchner/OFC; Team; Sean Hotchner; other OCs
Genres: Post-Canon-ish/Drama/Romance/Alternate AU
Rating: R
Summary: [Contains SPOILERS up to SEASON 6] After a particularly bad case, Hotchner forces Reid into early retirement. Reid takes a position as a philosophy professor at the University of Virginia. Jack Hotchner turns eighteen and decides to show both of them what might have been.

Note: also x-posted to livejournal: .com/tag/title%3A%20in%20our%20other%20lives .

"Though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending."

-Carl Bard

Chapter I

When Jack Hotchner announces his intent to attend the University of Virginia, his father, SSA Aaron Hotchner reacts with profound disappointment. Jack does not take it personally; he knows that there are other opportunities out there, and that Aaron, because of his work with the FBI, would really rather his son go off to another country far away from Quantico. It was safer that way, if he was away. But Jack hates the thought of too much snow and rain in a place like Ireland, and too much sun in a place like Italy. He finally agrees to meet Aaron halfway and drives to the nearest courthouse with Uncle Sean one morning and has his name legally changed.

Going the extra mile, he even bleaches his hair, but the resulting color, Uncle Sean assures him, is very tasteful.

John Russell Hotchner is now Jackson Cade Hayley. He remembers his mother, and thinks that is mostly why Aaron has relented. He practices his new signature two hundred times, but in the end, it's still awkward, with too many angles. The signature on his new driver's license is altogether illegible.

Downstairs, in a rare turn when Aaron, Uncle Sean, and Jack are all home together, Jack can hear voices floating up the stairs. He pulls his earbuds out of his ears and stands quietly next to his open door -

"He's being unreasonable," says Aaron.

There is a long pause before Uncle Sean answers, "No, I think he is being a good son."

Aaron says nothing after that. Jack waits a moment for that odd feeling in his stomach to settle down, then he goes back to work.

On a Friday morning, exactly a month away from his thirty-eighth birthday, Dr. Spencer Reid, professor at the University of Virginia's department of Philosophy receives one letter, and one phone call. The letter comes first.

The letter is from SSA Emily Prentiss, although she signs it under an alias. She tells him that Ian Doyle is dead, shot dead in a godforsaken part of Moscow trying avoid capture. She is living in Switzerland presently, alive and well. She misses them all, and wants to know why he is no longer working at the BAU. Please call or write as convenient.

Reid tucks the letter in the bottommost drawer in the desk in his study, and vows to think about it later. A reply cannot be hasty. The phone call comes after he has finished his third cup of coffee. It is Lila Archer.

It's a funny thing, his interaction with Lila Archer, actress. She calls every time that she is in Charlottesville for a film, and though Reid always manages to have very nice conversations with her, he cannot bear to meet her in person. As if she represents a part of him he'd really rather forget. It's been going on for years. She even calls when she has a boyfriend.

"Hi, Lila."

"Hi, Dr. Reid," she says. "I bet you're surprised to hear from me."

That sentiment has never made any sense to Reid. You either hear from someone, or you do not. Surprise has very little to do with either of those circumstances, "It is always nice to hear from you. I saw your new movie."

There is a lot of noise in the background, rumbling, bits of French, English, Thai. Reid assumes that Lila is at the airport, "Did you? What did you think?"

"Well, a lot of the research in the film was done very poorly; for example when the unsub kidnapped Ellie and put her in the freezer -"

"Unsub," Lila laughs. "Have you snuck back to the FBI without telling me?"

"What? No. I never, I meant villain. Villain. And you were wonderful in the film." He says it twice, tacking it off with a compliment, hoping to sound convincing. "Actually, I have departmental meetings now, in a couple of minutes and I have to go. But my last meeting ends at four-thirty, if you're not doing anything in particular, um."

"Yes, Spencer," says Lila. "Yes, I'd love to meet you for coffee. I thought you'd never ask."

Aaron Hotchner takes exactly half a day away from his desk on a Sunday morning to help Jack move into his college dorm. Sean has already volunteered himself as the supervisory father surrogate, but Aaron knows that he also needs to be there in person. The dorm room is of a good size, and Aaron decides that his son has grown up, after all. Maybe, a little. He finds that he dislikes Jack's roommate on sight, because of the loudly questionable posters he puts up on his side of the room, and makes a note to ask Garcia for a complete background check.

"Dad."

"- Dad," says Jack's voice.

Aaron shakes himself, "Pardon?"

"Whatever you're thinking, don't do it." Jack wrinkles his nose, "You have that weird look on your face."

Aaron examines his face in the mirror mounted by the closet, "There isn't anything on my face." He concludes at last, wondering which facial twitch gave him away.

Jack rolls his eyes, "Go back to work Dad, I'll be fine. See you this weekend if I see you."

Aaron checked his phone, confirming that he has already missed five calls. He claps a hand on his son's shoulder and smiles an old man's smile, "I'm sure you will be." He thinks he catches a glimpse of Jack's own smile as he walks away.

Reid agrees to meet Lila at a quiet little coffeehouse just a block off campus. She is already there when he arrives, and she kisses him on both cheeks, leaving pink-red lipstick marks. Her nails are painted the exact some shade, and she wears a t-shirt with a logo on it, jeans, and a pale peach-colored scarf. Lila must have dyed her hair for an upcoming role.

"Your hair looks nice."

"Thanks."

A waiter wanders by and asks them if they'd like to order drinks. Lila insists that Spencer order for her, and Reid orders her a raspberry smoothie. She liked berries, he remembers her telling him once. He gets a coffee with extra caramel and extra espresso with chocolate sprinkles. The waiter wanders off again, and Reid looks across the table at her.

"The coffee here isn't very good, but they have good smoothies."

Lila raises a mildly curious eyebrow, "But you ordered a coffee."

"For some reason, they know how to make more unorthodox drinks," Reid shrugs one shoulder. "Mine's very unorthodox."

Their drinks come, Reid's coffee looks like a sugary monstrosity, just the way he likes it. Lila says, "Looks like it." Then she laughs. Reid really likes her laugh. It helps him forget.

"So, um."

"Um," Lila echoes him, not so helpfully. "I'll be in town until the end of the month. I only a have a few scenes in this movie. But they all look fun. I'll get to climb a tree in high heels."

Reid winced, "That doesn't sound fun." Some tree climbing statistics come to mind, and he is about to recite them before she interrupts him again.

"Okay, you're right, it isn't. But it's interesting. Like, it's not something you'll ever get to do." Lila grins at him.

Spencer Reid will never have the opportunity to climb trees in high heels and get caught on camera doing it. That much is true, he tries to imagine something so ridiculous, and obviously fails.

"School's just started," he says, choosing his words carefully. "I'm sure I will get busier. There has been an influx of students this year, interested in philosophy. I'm quite famous on campus. For being weird. And me, that sort of thing."

Lila leans across the table and kisses him, she tastes faintly of raspberry, "I wouldn't want to be a bother, Dr. Reid."

No one has quite forgiven Aaron Hotchner for his decision after that one case. Of course, it was long enough ago that no one says anything about it anymore, but he knows. He sees. Aaron is in his office catching up on emails when JJ knocks on his door, "Hey Hotch, got a minute?"

"Yeah."

"Did Jack get settled all right?" She is carrying a bundle of files in her arms, but apparently she is just using them as a guise.

"I left him and Sean to take care of the rest of it," Aaron leans back against his chair and rubbed his eyes. "My son's eighteen."

Because JJ is a mother, she understands better than anyone. But because she is not any of the other things, she doesn't understand, "I'll probably feel that way when Henry turns eighteen. Jack's a good kid though. You raised him right." She says it, not perhaps because she believes it, but she knows instinctively that he needs to hear it.

She takes the vacant chair on the other side of his desk, "I'm assuming you heard about Doyle. Have you spoken to Emily?"

"No, but I plan to." Aaron suddenly feels claustrophobic in his office. He stands, too quickly, "I have a meeting with Strauss. Is there anything else?"

JJ looks at him, "Does Spence know?"

"I," Aaron opens his mouth, closes it again. "Don't know. Excuse me."

"Amanda, Amanda, I know. I'll be there soon. No, don't be drastic," Reid stares at Lila's mouth, marveling at the way she forms words. "...Yes, I know. See you in a few."

They are holding hands, and it's not Reid's first time holding someone's hand, but it feels like a first time. "Do you have to go?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry." she breathed next to the crook of his neck, "I'm filming tomorrow, but." There is a brief, but heavy pause, "I'd like to see you again. Can we try to do that?"

He walks her back to her car by the coffeehouse, watches her get in. "I would like that."

The monotone clicking of Garcia's keyboard brought up the profile of one Troy Anthony Burrell. Born January 6, 1999. Father worked on Wall Street, mother was a nurse. Troy had grown up abroad in New Zealand, and he had no record, although he had an extensive collection of tattoos. Currently a freshman studying at the University of Virginia, drove a giant gas guzzler.

He has no perceivable record, but that does not relieve Aaron any less.

"Before I feel any more creepy," Garcia swivels around in her chair to face him. "Who is this?"

"Jack's roommate, I thought he looked suspicious when I met him this morning."

"Sir, I'm disappointed in you."

"Thanks, Garcia." Truthfully, Aaron doesn't know whether she is joking.

Despite his roommate's array of tattoos, Jack finds that he rather likes the guy, and Troy is a lot more harmless than he looks. "Have you ever thought about what happens to those things once you turn, I dunno, sixty?"

Troy laughs, but not in a mean-spirited way. "Doubt that I'll get that old."

Troy already has a huge network of friends and they spend their first night drinking beer and playing video games. Some girl gets stupid enough to mention upcoming classes and brings the party to a general halt.

"I definitely would want to take a class with Dr. Reid," she giggles drunkenly, leaning against Jack's closet door, "I heard he's really cute. And a genius."

Jack watches her, mostly because he's afraid she's going to throw up. He's got to stay alert, and ready to toss the trash can in her direction at any time. The name strikes a chord with him though.

"Dr. Spencer Reid?"

"Yeah, he teaches philosophy," the girl bobs her head up and down excitedly while looking rather green. Jack more or less shoves the trash can into her hands.

"Here, hold this."

Despite what he tells Lila, Reid finds himself facing a rather easy semester. He is teaching four classes: Marxist Theory and Ideology, Schopenhauer, The Truth About Existentialism, and an introductory course to Game Theory.

His colleagues are wary of giving him any introductory courses to teach, because the last time they made such a rudimentary mistake, Reid unknowingly failed his whole class. He still isn't aware of how that could have happened. It just did.

"You know," he idly stirs three sugar packets into his coffee, only his second cup of the day. "I'm getting the feeling that no one really trusts me around here."

Professor Kay Brightwood is this year's department chair. She is an elderly woman in her sixties who reminds Reid distinctly of his own mother, except, without the schizophrenia. "That's not true, Spencer." Her eyes peer at him over thick-rimmed glasses, "You have to remember that not everyone has such intellectual advantages."

"I didn't fail my class on purpose," says Reid, only mildly indignant because they've gone over this at least a hundred times. "You know I didn't." And the grades have all been changed around anyway, he can't understand why everyone is making such a pointless fuss. He runs a hand through his unruly mane of hair and vows to get a haircut - if not a cut, then at least a trim, before he has to meet up with Lila again.

"Besides, I don't know anything about Game Theory, I just bought some books."

Brightwood makes a small noise of disbelief, "How many books, Spencer?"

"Forty-three, average of five hundred pages each." It seems to be a sloppy statistic, but Reid knows that Brightwood isn't really asking, only stating a point.

She pats him with a motherly hand, and gets up, "I rest my case, kiddo."

Aaron Hotchner cannot allow himself to think of Spencer Reid. If he thinks of Spencer Reid, he thinks of mistakes that he should have never made. Other decisions that wouldn't have led to what it led to. Now that he looks back, with a clear mind and not so much a clear conscience, it's all a mistake.

Aaron's team members do not blame him, he knows they don't. They can wish that he could have made a different choice then, but they don't blame him.

His phone jingles, pulling him out of his too-thoughtful stupor, "Hotchner."

"Hey, it's Sean. Heading over to the airport now, but I wanted to drop by and actually say good-bye. You in your office?"

There is a strange echoing effect on the other end of the line. Aaron looks up to see Sean leaning against his doorway, "Sean -"

"Was wondering how long it'd take for you to notice," his brother steps into the room. "Paperwork's really all that interesting, huh?"

"I was just thinking."

"Do you ever do anything else?"

Aaron gives him a look, "How's Jack?"

"He's fine," right after that, Sean repeats himself. "I mean, really Aaron, he's fine. Aren't you going to wish me a safe flight?"

"Have a safe flight, Sean."

Out of curiosity, Jack signs up for PHIL-204: Introduction to Game Theory under Dr. Spencer Reid. It meets Tuesdays and Thursdays at 10:00 AM, and the reading load is ridiculous. At the bookstore, Jack regrets his decision after he hands over five hundred bucks.

"Are you taking Intro to Game Theory too?" Behind him is a familiar voice. Jack shifts his focus from monetary loss to the girl who almost threw up in his room two nights ago. She smiles shyly at him, "Sorry, I don't remember your name."

"Oh, uh, Jackson, but you can call me Jack." Jack shakes her outstretched hand. "I don't remember your name, either." Or if she has even given it to him.

"My name's Chloe," she hangs on a moment too long and lets go. "Did I throw up in your room when I, uh...I mean, I don't exactly remember, but I did, I want to apologize." She - Chloe looks properly remorseful after the fact. Just for that, Jack forgives her.

"Don't worry about it, you didn't throw up. If you did, you were holding the trash can anyway, it's fine." He glances down at his two bagfuls of textbooks. There are books in there for other classes too, but most of the books are for Intro to Game Theory.

"I'm going to the library to get a head start on all this reading," Chloe grins brightly in his general direction. "Wanna come with me?"

There were lights. Impossibly bright lights. And there were voices. Voices screaming his name - "Reid! Reid! Open your eyes kid, open your eyes. Stay with me. Come on, open your eyes -"

But the lights. The lights were too bright. And he was so tired. And Reid might have heard a glimmer of his mother's voice there somewhere in the chaos. She was reading, from some technical textbook, and Reid suddenly remembered and missed how his mother never seemed to stumble over even the most difficult of words.

There was a harsh rattling sound that drowned out his mother's soothing drone.

"Reid! Reid!"

Reid wakes up with a start, and wonders vaguely whether he might be dying. The room is very dark, and instinctively, he reaches for the lamp switch. The room now has an austere glow to it, but it is still too dark. His watch reads 4:43 AM. He lies there for a couple more seconds, before he goes through his entire apartment and turns on every light, including the porch light.

Then he settles on the couch with a book about Game Theory; it's a book he has already read two days ago, but there isn't any harm in a thorough re-reading. The words whiz by, and it's suddenly impossible to grasp any useful meaning. Reid puts the book down, and picks up his phone, which is never far away out of bad habit.

He dials Lila Archer. She's not - she's not Aaron, but at least she is there. He waits. If it goes to voicemail, Reid decides ahead of time that he will not leave a message. He hasn't got anything to say.

"...Spencer?"

Reid opens his mouth, no sound comes out.

"Spencer, it's four in the morning."

Reid leans back too far and hits his head on against the wall, "I uh," he says, as intelligently as he can possibly manage.

"Can you stay on the line for a little while? You don't have to say anything."

There is a long pause; he can hear her breathing. Finally Lila says, "Okay. Okay Spencer. I'm right here."

Jack could not have been more than six or seven years old, but he remembered helping his mother count carrot pieces in the kitchen. A Dr. Spencer Reid was coming over for dinner, and he was young. Daddy liked to take care of people, to protect them.

His mother said some other things he could not understand, but he understood without any doubt that Daddy was a good, brave man and wanted to protect this Dr. Spencer Reid. That was enough.