A/N: I'm not sure this is going to be for everyone, or even for anyone. You particularly may not like it if you only ship to the Hotch/Prentiss pairing. But I ask you to give it a go anyway and if you hate it, you can just ignore it from now on.

This idea wouldn't leave me alone, so I am putting it out there just because it has to be written or else drive me insane. If you don't like it, that's totally alright though I hope you do; even though it is so totally different to any of my other work. And please don't panic; I will always come back to NPH and Life's Wishes; I'm not intending to dump the one for the other. I also promise to finish LAWKI; I'm just getting an idea of whether anyone will actually follow this or not. But if you do like it, please let me know what you think, particularly as I am so uncertain about putting this idea out there.

I'm basically going to be posing a series of WHAT IF...? questions and exploring the possibilities attached, starting with one that will be familiar to most of you, before very rapidly evolving into something else entirely. So, please be aware that I am using my artistic licence to the fullness of its capabilities. It is necessary for it to start out this way in order for me to take it where I want it to go.

This is the start of What If – Part 1, and is rated M for violence.

Disclaimer: I sadly don't own anything to do with Criminal Minds except these mad ideas in my head. Doesn't mean I can't dream a little 'What if' of my own.

What If Part 1 – A Change of Life

Chapter 1

Nothing breached the haze in his head. Not the realisation that his foe was dead by his hands already, nor the fact that the skin on both his hands was broken and bloody as he continued to punch into the bruised flesh lying on the floor underneath him. He wasn't aware of the pain in his body from the beating he himself had taken and neither did he acknowledge that his heart was breaking into little pieces both from what he had been forced to do and for what he hadn't been able to prevent.

Because of the haze in his head, he wasn't aware of the distant sound of sirens coming closer, the sounds of voices clearing the lower parts of the house and calling his name and he certainly wasn't aware of the moment he ceased to be alone.

"Hotch...Hotch! Hotch! He's dead! Hotch stop; come on stop it, it's over. It's over. It's okay, it's over man," Morgan said sadly as he pulled his boss and friend off of their target.

That voice was familiar, but it barely penetrated the white noise surrounding him. Only when strong arms wrapped around him and hauled him back did the barrier around him break. Sound and sensation washed in and with it came an overwhelming sense of panic and need he couldn't deny.

Breaking the hold those arms had on him was no easy feat, not when his whole body was shaking so badly. But somehow he managed to get free and stumble to his feet as his heart and his head screamed the memory at him.

Jack!

He stumbled up the stairs, barely able to put one foot in front of the other, his memories driving him when he otherwise would have collapsed as exhaustion flooded his body. He entered his office, noticing immediately how untouched it was and hope surged within him that he wasn't too late for this moment as he fell to his knees before the chest directly opposite the entry.

His hands were shaking so badly and were so coated with sticky blood that he could barely get a handle on the rim of the lid to lift it. But hope drove him to get a hold and he pushed it up to see the sweetest sight in the world.

"I work the case daddy, just like you said," Jack said as he looked up at his father from where he was lying on his back.

"You did a great job buddy," he said shakily as he reached for his son.

"What happened to you daddy?"

"I'm okay. I want you to go outside with Miss Jareau, okay?"

He heard JJ say, "Come here sweetheart," as emotion overwhelmed him. Pushing to his feet, he stumbled out of the room past Reid and made his way back down the hall to the bedroom. The room that had once been theirs together for so many years.

The grey walls were washed with blood; her blood. It had seeped into the creamy-brown of the carpet and turned it darkest red, particularly where she lay. Morgan crouched over her, a frown of weary concentration on his face as he reached for her wrist to check for her pulse.

In crouching down beside her, he knocked into Morgan, pushing the other man back. But he simply took it with grace, standing and moving back to the door with a murmured apology that barely penetrated his grief.

He'd shot her three times in the chest, clearly aiming for a spot that would keep her suffering for as long as possible. He lifted her lifeless body into his arms as sobs filled the air, intent on holding her to him despite the fact that she was already gone.

He felt guilty to the core, for so many reasons; the first one being his arriving too late to save her from Foyet. If he had only tried harder, worked longer hours, pushed his team more, perhaps they might have made it in time to save her life. And his son wouldn't now have to live without his mother.

But that just led straight into his other guilt. The one he'd been fighting for the last few months. The one that wouldn't leave him alone; not in the dead of the night nor in the light of day. Not when he was busy on a case, or spending some quiet time reading a book. The guilt was always there, eating away at him, sitting beside him and mocking him and now, as he held his dead wife in his arms, it laughed at him and told him it didn't matter now anymore anyway.

For Haley was dead already, so what did it matter that he'd stopped loving her sometime in the last few months while she'd been out of his life. Not that it had mattered before they'd put her into Witness Protection; she'd already divorced him. Given up on him and left him to deal with his life on his own. But she'd still been around, when he collected Jack for his too infrequent time with his precious son and when he dropped him off afterwards. She'd been there and he'd often entertained dreams of the two of them sitting down together and somehow working things out.

But then there was Foyet, and she was gone. And with her absence had come the realisation that the only reason he could think of to reconcile with her would be for the sake of their son. He didn't love her anymore and worse than that; he hadn't loved her for far longer than they'd been divorced. Her belittling remarks about the job, about the man he had become as he aged, had soured his love and slowly diluted it until the only love he felt for her had to do with his gratefulness over her giving him his son.

But as his realisation freed him, so now did his guilt weigh him down as he wondered if he'd maybe not worked hard enough because he just didn't want to have to deal with her anymore. He held her and he cried, but his tears were all for the knowledge that he was far too grateful for the fact that Jack was alive and all his, all the time...and there lay the bulk of his guilt as he knelt among the blood and brokenness that had become his life.

No more arguments over missed weekend visitations because of his work. No more bargaining for just a few minutes to sit at his sons' bedside after a particularly hard case made him all the more grateful that his son was safe. No more...

When Haley jerked in his arms the first time he thought it was simply his guilt deepening his grief, causing his sobs to knock him off balance. But when she jerked the second time and moaned in his arms, it was his turn to jerk backwards as shock ripped through him.

"Haley?" he asked brokenly.

Her eyelids fluttered and she jerked again as her glazed eyes came to rest on his face.

"Aaron?"

"Oh God...we need a medic now!"

He was glad that Morgan had returned when he had, if he'd even left at all; he had no voice left to yell with even if he'd tried.

Everything happened very quickly after that. Everyone within distance of that shout came running. The paramedics had to shove their way through a wall of shocked people in order to get to their patient. Rossi followed in their wake and pulled him back from Haley's wrecked body in order to give the medics the room they needed to effect the best help. A short time later, she was loaded onto a stretcher that he rapidly followed and an hour later he was sitting in a waiting room waiting on news of whether the surgical staff were successful in saving her life or if he would have to bury her after all.

He was staring at his hands as he tried to assimilate what had happened when JJ walked through the door with his son asleep in her arms. He jumped to his feet as she came close.

"JJ..."

"It's alright Hotch. I understood completely; we all understood. Have you heard anything?"

"Not yet. How's Jack?"

She smiled tiredly as she settled into a chair. "I took the time to explain to him what was going on and I think he understood. I said that the doctors were doing everything they could to save his mother and there wasn't anything more he could do. He insisted we pray and then he started crying. I think the whole situation just got on top of him and he was exhausted. He cried himself to sleep and I brought him here to see if there was anything else I could do to help."

He shook his head. "You've done so much already. I can't believe I forgot all about him."

"Hotch, you thought Haley was dead. The two of you were married for over twenty years; it's understandable for you to have become completely focused on her and her wellbeing. And Jack did understand, so don't worry about it so much.

"Now, do you want me to take him home? I've checked with Will and he said it was fine if it would help you out."

He hesitated only slightly before sighing. "If you could...I've already proven I'm not thinking straight."

"Your thinking is right on track for what has happened. I'll take him with me then and you just come get him when you're ready."

"Thanks JJ. I appreciate this more than I can say."

New Section

Derek smiled appreciatively at the pretty nurse approaching him. She was far too young for him, but that wouldn't stop him from flirting with her a bit. Particularly if it got him what he wanted.

"Hey there sweetness. How's it going today?"

"Well, my day just got a whole heap better, I can tell you. What can I do for you?"

He somehow doubted he had anything to do with her day getting better as he spotted her wedding ring, but if she was in a good mood, that would still work in his favour.

"Haley Hotchner. How is she?"

"Are you family?"

"Her ex-husband is my boss. I'm with the FBI."

She sighed. "I probably shouldn't say anything, but you look like you could help me out here. Truthfully, she pulled through surgery, but that is about it. She's improved very little since she was placed in ICU; she's neither getting better or worse. But at least she's resting in the coma she's in.

"I can't say the same about Agent Hotchner. He's never in the way, but he won't listen to us when we tell him to leave. I've pointed out multiple times that she's not going anywhere, but he just insists on staying at her side and after three days straight, he smells and he desperately needs a shave. I've seen many like him over the last few years and I can tell you that he has some very, very heavy guilt sitting on his shoulders. And I can't get him to open up about it and cleanse it."

"Do you know what happened to Haley?"

"I know she was shot by a madman that Agent Hotchner killed to keep his son safe."

"Then you know his being late was the reason that she was shot at all."

"I don't believe his being late or early or there at all would have affected the outcome. It just is what it is. I also don't think that's what he's carrying around; or at least it isn't the fullness of his guilt."

"Hmm."

He had, of course, noticed how driven Hotch had recently become while trying to find Foyet in every free moment he had; he'd put it down to his drive to provide safety to his family in order to get Jack back into his life. But now that he thought about it, there had been some edge to it that bordered on desperation but felt more like something else he hadn't been able to put his finger on.

"Hmm. Listen, I could possibly get him out of here, but I doubt it would last very long after I left him. But I imagine right now he could use a big, stiff drink. What's your policy on alcohol in the ICU?"

New Section

Dave smothered a laugh as he stopped in the door to the ICU room. The smell of the antiseptic in the air vied with the stench of alcohol and the pitiful sight of Haley Hotchner dwarfed by the machines attempting to keep her alive was almost completely outdone by the sight of SSAIC Aaron Hotchner passed out on the floor beside the door.

He cleared his throat and Derek turned from where he'd been staring out the window.

"I see what you meant by having the best intentions in the world and finding things didn't quite go to plan."

Derek ran a hand over his bald head. "He was conscious when I suggested we get him home and cleaned up before bringing him back here. He was also conscious when he said he couldn't leave Haley's side in case she permanently left him and again when I indicated she wouldn't be too impressed with him if she woke to find him smelling like this. He agreed with this readily enough and got up to walk out with me and that was about where he lost consciousness and took the nosedive. I managed to keep him from hitting his head on the way down but that was about it. I haven't been able to get enough leverage to get him over my shoulder so I could get him home and that was when I called you for help."

"Just how much did he drink?"

"I only intended for him to have a couple of drinks. I figured after three days plus of almost no sleep that he probably wouldn't need more than that to become drunk and therefore pliable. So we had those two drinks and he agreed that he would let me take him home. I said I was going to the toilet and when I returned, he'd fished the bottle out of the bag and finished it."

"Was it full when you arrived?"

"Yes it was, and I also only had the two drinks."

"And what was it exactly?"

"100% proof whiskey."

Dave sighed tiredly. "I was afraid you were going to say that. Right then; let's do this now and get him out of here before someone comes to scold you for leaving the man alone with the bottle."

"Hey, don't I get points for the fact that he didn't land on Haley when he went down?"

"Fine, I'll give you a point for that. But no more than that because he is going to well and truly kill you when he wakes unless he remembers that it was his fault that he is as bad as he is. And he goes in your car; I am not subjecting my car to that smell."

Derek argued this point as they got Aaron up between them, hauled him out of the room and into the lift. He stopped arguing long enough to flirt with the three gorgeous women already in the lift but quickly resumed his arguments when the women exited at the second floor. He was still arguing it when Dave took his keys from him and unlocked his car. And once their boss was inside and draped across the backseat, he tried one last time.

"Dave, please. Think of how many dates I'm going to lose while this smell fades from the upholstery. Seriously, the chicks are going to think I'm a drunk with a brewery in the trunk until the smell fades. Take pity on me."

Dave snorted. "Not likely. I have a lady friend with an incredibly keen sense of smell; I'm not subjecting her to that. Besides, you made your bed and now you have to lie in it. Just tell your dates what you did, make it sound like a mercy mission and let them make their own way. They'll love that you have a soft sensitive side and that you are protecting them from the smell. In fact, I guarantee you have more dates because of this then you did before."

"You have a girlfriend?"

"Focus on the important points please."

He shut the door and left Derek standing there thoughtfully turning everything the older man had said over in his mind.

"Hey, Morgan?"

He snapped out of his thoughts and turned to find Dave's very fine sports car idling at the end of his.

"Are we going? Or are you going to leave Hotch to sleep it off on your back seat?"

He shook his head and quickly got into his car. He tried the car's air-conditioning on the way out of the parking lot, but ended up putting all of the windows down in an attempt to counteract the fumes making his eyes water and threatening his constitution. The twenty minute trip was the longest of his life and he'd never been so glad to arrive somewhere as he was to see Hotch's apartment appear in front of him.

Ten minutes later, they'd managed to manoeuvre him into his apartment and into his bedroom.

"Right; I think we should clean him up before we let him fall into bed."

"Why?" Derek asked. "He can just do that when he wakes up."

Dave rolled his eyes. "Derek, it's Autumn and cool for this time of year, so we can't leave the windows open for ventilation. He's ingested enough alcohol that he'll probably be out for the count for at least the next 24 hours and leaving him smelling like this is going to postpone his return to the land of the living. We don't need that happening because the sooner he's conscious, the sooner we can be sure you haven't poisoned him with the amount of alcohol he drank."

"Does it help if I tell you I only bought a small bottle of whiskey?"

"Some," Dave said dryly. "Come on. The sooner we get him cleaned up and in bed, the sooner you can leave."

"Sounds...wait; why just me leaving? What will you be doing?"

"Sticking around to help him deal with the repercussions of his reckless drinking."

"What about your lady friend?"

"Never you mind about my lady friend. Now, we'll be putting him in the shower but obviously we could drown him, so you probably want to strip to your boxers."

Derek saw that he wasn't going to win this argument and sighing heavily, did as he was told.

An hour later, Aaron had been stripped down, washed thoroughly, shaved, dressed in sweats and tucked into bed. Dave watched Derek drive away with more speed than was strictly necessary and chuckled in amusement as he hit a familiar speed dial on his mobile.

"Hey babe. How far away are you?"

He sighed tiredly. "Sorry my love. I know I promised, but something has come up and I won't be making it out with you tonight."

"Dave, I'm standing here in one of the most stunning dresses I've ever seen, all ready to go to the symphony tonight. I know those tickets cost you a fortune, so what on earth came up that is having you cancel on me?"

He turned away from the window to take in the sight of Hotch sprawled across the bed, now snoring like a chainsaw.

"Honey, I'm not sure you'd believe me even if I told you."

End

A/N: And here is the end of the first chapter of my newest series, but I promise yet again that I'm not abandoning the rest of my work. If no one likes it, I'll remove it, so please drop me a line if you do like it with the conveniently placed link right underneath these words.