Disclaimer: I do not own anything Criminal Minds related. Characters are merely borrowed and will be put back later. ;)

A/N: This is a short one, but it just jumped into my head and I had to write it.

Title: Six

Prompt: Every Picture Tells a Story

***

"To the attentive eye, each moment of the year has its own beauty, and in the same field, it beholds, every hour, a picture which was never seen before, and which shall never be seen again"

Ralph Waldo Emerson

***

He couldn't remember a whole lot about his childhood- it had been twelve years ago, after all. Jack was 18 years old, preparing for Yale and then a job in the FBI- like his old man. His mother disapproved and tried to talk him out of it, but Jack wanted to help the world; that's what his father had taught him to do and that was what he intended to do.

He was emptying his room and stacking his stuff into boxes for college when he came across that small box he had had as a boy. The box he had made in a local art class- he remembered the difficulty he had had with it, trying to get it to stick together and work properly. Creativity wasn't his strongest point, he wryly reminded himself.

He opened it and pulled out the contents. A few bent photographs and small coloured stones he had collected, along with a few burnt matches and a rather old photograph of his mother. He pulled open the photographs that had been bent out of shape and stuck together inside the box, and smiled.

His sixth birthday scene was staring back at him; his father and stepmother staring at each other lovingly. The second photograph showed them kissing. He tried to remember the day as best he could, but the detail was gone. He didn't even remember the other presents he had gotten, he just remembered the camera and the hours of fun he had had with it; how his father had paid to have every single photograph he took developed and how Jack had long since lost most of them.

***

The familiar snap of the picture taking caught them off guard, but they smiled at Jack nonetheless. At 6 years old, he was curious, and having just gotten his first camera for his birthday, Jack was a very happy guy.

The room they sat in was spacious and airy, the open presents and boxes telling Aaron Hotchner that his son was spoiled- not that he would have it any other way. He sat on the couch with Emily, his arm wrapped around her peacefully, and they watched as Jack wandered around the room and happily took pictures of them again. They half ignored him, delighted that he was so happy but more involved in each other at that moment.

Pictures flashed as an excited Jack pressed the button again and again- taking picture of his stepmom, his dad, his toys- and himself- as often as he could.

Aaron kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Well Mrs Hotchner, how did you enjoy your stepson's birthday?" he smiled at her and pressed his cheek against hers as a wide grin spread across her face.

"I loved it," she said, "Mr Hotchner." Her voice was lower when she murmured his surname- and her own surname now too, she recalled for the fifth time that day- and Jack took the opportunity to take another picture of them as they looked into each other's eyes and kissed tenderly, adoringly.

***

Jack had a lot to thank his father for; he didn't admit that often enough. He picked up his phone and opened it, pressed a speed dial key and putting it to his ear.

"Hi Dad," he started.

They talked for hours.