A/N: Hi there! So this is my first Criminal Minds one-shot, I'm pretty excited about it. In case anyone wondered - yes, I named this story after the Rolling Stones' song on purpose. I just find the title very suitable to the story. Why? Well, you'll have to read it to understand I suppose ;)

So here it is!


Aaron Hotchner sat quietly in his office, eyebrows furrowed as he read through the files. There was so much work to be done, so many cases waiting for them, and every case they solves created even more paperwork. He glanced at the picture of Jack on his desk and grinned slightly. He missed him – he's been away for too long, but he knew that there's nothing he could do about it. He just hoped Jack isn't mad at him. It was hard enough for him to live with just one parent, he didn't want to make him live without any parents at all.

He sighed tiredly and got up from his chair. He needed to fuel himself with some coffee, or else he'd just sit there and stare at the papers without getting any work done.

Just as he raised himself from his seat, someone knocked on the door and entered the office without waiting for his reply. That someone was Garcia, of course, in her usual colourful and cheerful outfit.

"They're ready," she said, and Hotch suppressed a sigh.

"I'll be there right away," he said with a nod and she left.

Aaron took a deep breath and walked to the conference room, a bit more slowly than he should have.

When he entered the room the team was already there, chatting lightly with each other and smiling. It was strange, the way they could detach themselves from their work. Strange, but vital. One couldn't possibly have this kind of job without knowing how to distance oneself from it.

He took his place by the round table and nodded to Garcia, who immediately grabbed the remote control and began presenting the case.

"Beware, my crime fighters, for this case has reached a new level of craziness. Three men," she said and uploaded the pictures of the bodies, "were found dead last night in –"

A knock was heard. The team members exchanged confused looks – who could it be? Whenever they were needed urgently, they were called in as fast as possible, no one bothered to knock. And whenever they weren't needed urgently, no one interrupted them during their briefs. So who would knock?

"Come in," Aaron called and glanced at Garcia, who closed the pictures of the bodies, and the door was opened.

A teenager entered the room. He was wearing a black hoodie and dark jeans, and when he raised his eyes from the floor to meet theirs, Aaron had an odd feeling that the kid was somewhat familiar to him.

"Hi, uh," he mumbled, "Is Aaron Hotchner here?"

"Yes, that's me. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, I just need to talk to you," said the teen. He paused for a second and took a deep breath. "My name is George Foyet. I think you knew my dad."

Hotch froze. That was when it all clicked – the dark clothes, the pale skin, the brown-moss eyes – it was familiar to him. The more he thought of it, the more he saw the similarity between the kid and his deceased father, the father he had killed with his bare hands. Unwelcome images flashed in his head – Foyet's victims, Haley lying lifelessly on the floor, Foyet's last breaths. He closed his eyes for an instance and tried to calm himself down.

"I think we do," said Rossi, and by so turned it from a private matter to the team's matter. Aaron noted to himself he should thank him later for that. "Please, sit down," he said and gestured to an empty chair in the corner of the room.

George picked up the chair and placed it closer to the table with a loud thud. He sat own in clear discomfort – he clearly didn't expect he'd have to have this conversation in front of a crowd.

Rossi glanced at Aaron, who was still paralyzed in his seat, and then met the teenager's eyes. "So what are you doing here?"

"It's kind of a long story," he answered, and Hotch couldn't help but to hear Foyet's voice instead of the kid's.

"Make it short, then," Morgan interrupted.

"Morgan!" Garcia hissed.

"What? I don't care that he's a kid. His father ruined Hotch's life, and now he came here uninvited to remind him of that, so he better have a damn good reason," Morgan replied abruptly, not bothering to conceal his anger.

"Maybe if you'll let me explain, you'll understand why I'm here," George said irritated.

"Let him talk," Hotch managed to say, his tone somehow steady as always.

"Thanks," the kid said and inhaled loudly, and it seemed that as he exhaled the air he exhaled the shyness that followed him so far. "So ever since I was a baby, my mom raised me on her own. She had refused to tell me who my father is, because she kept saying that he didn't know I existed and she wanted to keep it that way. When she did agree to talk about him, she said that they met when she was in high school, fell in love, but he had to leave before he found out that she was pregnant, and since she knew he would get in trouble if people would know he got her pregnant she kept their relationship a secret. That was all I knew about him until last week. My mom decided that my 16th birthday present would be my father's name. Apparently, she had changed her last name to his once she turned 18 so she wouldn't feel like he left her, and named me after him so she'll still have a part of him."

"Okay," Aaron said, slowly digesting the information he heard, "So what are you doing here?"

"When I looked up my father's name online, I found articled about him being a victim of a serial killer, and others about him being the serial killer. And since your name was mentioned in a couple of them, I thought that maybe you could help me find out who he really was," George revealed, with a hint of warm hope in his eyes.

Hotch looked down at the desk in front of him, but even though his gaze was focused on the table, he could feel the team's eyes on him. he knew their thoughts were similar to his – how would he tell this kid that his father was indeed a murderer, who stabbed him, threatened hos and his family's lives, murdered his ex-wife and was beaten to death by him?

Aaron didn't need long to think. He looked up from the desk and held the teenager's gaze. "Your father was a victim of a very dangerous serial killer. He was the only victim that survived. I didn't know him much; I just interviewed him twice about the attack. That was the last time I saw him," he replied, as steadily as if it was merely the truth.

"Oh," said George, and paused for an instance. "So why did he say he ruined your life?"

Aaron cursed Morgan internally for saying that. "Your father gave me misinformation about the man we were looking for, unintentionally of course, and that man used it to threaten my life and hurt me," he explained, slightly less believably than before. Luckily, George didn't notice it.

"Oh," he said again, and nodded to himself. This clearly wasn't the answer he had hoped for – he had probably hoped to hear that Hotch and his father were friends and that they knew each other well – but this answer was obviously better than the truth. Not that he knew that, of course. "Can you help me find him, then?"

"I'm sorry," replied Rossi instead, and Aaron glanced at him thankfully. He really did need to thank him later. "You father is dead."

"What?" Foyet's kid whispered and his shoulders dropped.

"He died in a fight," Aaron hurried to say before anyone else would provide a different explanation.

"What was he like?" George asked quietly, his eyes full of renewed hope – he was determined to learn something about his father from Hotch.

Aaron broke the eye contact. He knew that if he'd keep it, George would see the lies in his words. "Er, I didn't know him very well…" he started, but as he saw the disappointed look on the kid's face he added quickly, "But I can tell you one thing."

The teen's eyes lit with curiosity.

"Your father was a very smart man. He was cleverer than anyone who knew him. He was invincible until the day he died," Hotch said sincerely.

The teenager grinned in satisfaction, and Aaron smirked warmly back.

George got up from his seat. "Thank you for your time," he said in a casual tone, and his confident manner was back.

"Wait, George," Aaron found himself saying before he could stop himself, and the kid turned around. "There are many lies and rumors about your father on the internet. Make sure you stay away from them. On the day after you turn 18," he pulled out his card from his jacket and handed it to him, "Give me a call, and I'll tell you everything you'll want to know about your father."

George took the card from his hand and tucked it into his pocket. "Thanks," he said with a grin, "I will."

He left the room and closed the door behind him.