A/N:

This story might seem a little weird. Once again I picked a prompt and character without having any idea what to do... yes, I seem to never learn, but mostly come up with something. I didn't mind having the characters stay in charater... So - I'd love if you left a little review on this something here and maybe told me what you think about it. I recently moved and don't have internet at home yet so getting to look at my email every once in a while and seeing I got reviews... but be like a big shot of some awesome drug!

Thanks;

AJ :)

Love can sometimes be magic. But magic can sometimes... just be an illusion.

- Javan

This wasn't blood.

As many things as there were that he couldn't make sense of, this one he knew for a fact.

That this wasn't blood.

It was weird -sure- and, yes, rather confusing. But not blood. No way.

„How are you feeling, Jack?", he asked, still irritated by the, as it appeared, sudden change of the situation.

„I'm fine, daddy", the small boy, lying on the floor in front of Hotch, responded and grinned crookedly, „I fell and spilled the chocolate."

„But you're alright?"

Jack nodded and Hotch let out a relieved sight. It was obvious, but he hadn't fully believed it for a moment. Because... yes, because of what? It was a weird feeling that had grown inside of him, as if something terrible had happened; as if something heavy had fallen upon and crushed him. The feeling didn't quiete match the scene in front of him but suggested a situation a million shades darker. Like something that shatters you beyong repair.

But, as it seemed, everything was alright. Just hot chocolate, spilled on pale-coloured carpet. Inconvenient and not easily removed, but no big deal either.

„Never mind, I'll get something to clean it up. I'm just glad you didn't get hurt."

„Yeah, me too", Haley said, who had kneeled down right next to him. As Hotch looked at her with suspicion she gave him a wide, sarcastic grin, but he was sure to see at least a hint of the smile he had loved to see her wear mixed into it now, „what would you do if he wasn't alright, Aaron? Panic? Go all furious like you did when I died? Maybe it's time to eventually give up on fighting this. Just go on and lose your mind. It's not like it has done you much good."

„What are you doing here?"

For some reason he wasn't even surprized to see her but didn't quiete trust her appearance either, for obvious reasons. Haley didn't seem to mind, but nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders as if returning from the dead was the most normal thing to do on this planet.

„Oh well... what am I doing here? What are you doing here? What's Jack doing here? You must know, Aaron. You always had a way to get through these things, so please don't start doing stuff like that now."

„I don't know what you're talking about." His voice had suddenly grown shallow and weak. Looking at Haley and Jack, he honestly couldn't make sense of what he saw. Still, there was something... something that kept whispering that she was telling the truth. About... well, whatever.

„Of course you know. You're not stupid."

„You're... you're not real, are you?"

„Don't fool yourself, Aaron", Haley whispered, her lips so close to his ear he felt the warmth of her breath enter his ear canal, „you always knew better than to believe in such foolish things."

„He's alive", Hotch repeated and jerked his head away from her to break this beautiful, frightening closeness, that he was thirsting for but unable to accept now, „you have no idea what you're talking about!"

„That's right, mommy", Jack piped up, giving his father a wide smile, „I talk. Dead people don't talk."

Hotch tightly clenched one of Jack's hands and pressed it to his chest. He felt the warmth of life radiating from it, the pulse that kept him more alive than his own, the smooth skin to which he would let no harm happen. This was no blood. It was a metaphor. Colours meant life – how could it mean anything else?

„He's not going to die."

„Then why am I here?", Haley asked and sat down next to Hotch where she lay an arm around him and let her head sink to rest on his shoulder, „it's hard to lose him. I must know, I lost you both.."

„You did", he muttered, ignoring the touch. It felt too real, almost as real as touching Jack. „But I didn't. I still have him. You're not real any longer, he is."

„And you're sure of this?"

He, inteniding to be gentle but eventually more roughly, pushed her away from him. „Of course I am."

„Of course he is", Jack repeated, still smiling, „I had a soccer game this morning! Many people must be crazy if they saw a dead kid play. I scored two points... now, how unreal is that?"

Hotch's push didn't seem to have made any impact on Haley. She got up quickly and crouched down next to Hotch again, thouch avoiding to touch him this time. Instead, she gently caressed Jack's hair and Hotch realized for the first time that she, too, was crying. „Honey, that must be so difficult to understand. Just let me talk to daddy about it. He'll see what's happened, eventually." She looked up to Hotch and smiled weakly. „Won't you?"

„There's nothing to understand", he mumbled without meeting her eyes, „nothing at all, Haley."

Haley waited to answer for a moment, and simply observed Hotch, how he focussed on Jack's face alone again, trying to block out her, the apartment and... whatever else there might be waiting to be seen.

„Don't do that again, Aaron."

„Do what?"

„Deny where we stand." She spat out a short, quiet giggle, free of joy. „Sugarcoat it. Pretend everything's fine while the walls are splattered with blood all over."

Blood. As the thought crossed his mind anew he quickly shook his head, as if to practically throw it out of hsi brain. Because this wasn't blood. Certainly not. Why would there be blood, anyways? It, obviously, was hot chocolate. It didn't smell like stale iron, but like cocoa. And it was proof of a wonderful saturday afternoon with his son, not of something unthinkable.

This time, his voice was rather brusque. „Stop that, Haley; it's not funny!"

„Really, it's not funny?", she repeated, already getting closer to him until their arms touched again, „what exactly is not funny?"

„Saying... saying all of this. You know you're hurting me. Just why are you doing it?"

„Seriously, Aaron? Why am I hurting you?"

He didn't answer. Jack wasn't smiling any more but turned his face to a more grave expression.

„You know, I find it funny. Say what you want... but I find it funny." Again, Haley giggled shortly and, again, it was bare of any amusement. „Didn't you find it funny, too? Just a little bit? How you say you love us, care for us, live for us? But in the end, it's always us who die for you."

Hotch shook his head, determined to not be fooled by her. „He can't be dead."

„Aaron, look at me", Haley prompted in a soft voice and as he finally dared to look her in the eyes they seemed so full of life, so real and so in love with him that he had a hard time telling himself they weren't any of this, because she had known him and this had been her end, „I am dead and yet I'm so lively standing here in front of you, smelling the way I used to smell, looking the way I used to look like when we were still happily together."

His voice almost cracked when he answered. „I know better than to think you're alive again."

„Then do you really think that's chocolate that you smell? And that it's watercolours that stain is his clothes? That it's a stick-on tattoo on his forehead? That what your ears are ringing from is his laughter, the feeling in your heart is happiness... that this is his and not your own pulse?"

„Is this right, daddy? Could I be gone?"

Hotch looked down upon Jack, took a deep breath and all the courage he could muster up and closed his eyes, speaking only to himself, pretending he was the only living person for a while. „No", he breathed, „I am not here all alone, my son is with me, too."

He felt Haley's fingertips touch his eyeslids, gently but strong enough to keep them close. They felt cold as ice but didn't cause him to flinch from them, didn't make him shiver. After a moment he shoved them aside though, not able to bear the touch any longer.

Jack's hand was still warm and he still felt the pulse, ignoring what Haley had speculated about it. Of course he felt his own pulse, too. Of course, they shared a pulse, in a way. They were of the same flesh and blood. Jack meant the world to him. Of course he was afraid to think of a world without his son.

And for what concerned Haley, she wasn't real. He knew it, felt guilty about it - but people that weren't real had no right to tell him what to believe or what to see.

As he opened his eyes again, a flash of bright red hit him for a moment. He let out a short yelp and backed off of Jack in an instant, only to realize that he had been wrong. The red faded to brown. The coldness got a little warmer again, loneliness went back to fatherhood... a ghost wouldn't tell him anything. This was what he saw, this was what he could rely on.

His own two eyes. His own heart. And what he felt and saw was that Jack was there and he couldn't be gone.

„What's wrong, daddy?", Jack asked and the concern in his voice was enough to hurt Hotch.

„Nothing", he soothed and picked up Jack's hand again to give it a short kiss, „everything's fine. Mommy scared me a little, that's all."

„You don't need to be scared."

„I know. Don't worry about it."

„As long as I'm talking to you it can't be that bad, right?"

„No... no, it can't be that bad", Hotch answered smiling, „it'll be fine... won't it?"

The question hung in the air. He knew -somewhere underneath the knowledge that without Jack he would be lost and alone- that he wouldn't ever ask Jack something like this. It was his job to make his son feel good. A real Hotch wouldn't ask a real Jack for emotional reassurance.

As he had done before, he abondened the thought with a short shake of his head. There was no time for this now. As long as it wasn't there, everything was indeed fine.

„Of course it will", Jack said and raised his hand to carefully caress Hotch's cheek, „I'm here. I'm alive, right?" He let his hand drop down next to himself again and gave his father a curious look. Warm drops of water fell on his upper body, soaking his shirt. They weren't uncomfortably cold, just... his father's., and therefore an odd thing to rain on him. „Daddy, why are you crying on me?"

„There's no reason", Hotch whispered, quick to wipe them away, „you're alive."

Do not be misled by what you see around you, or be influenced by what you see. You live in a world which is a playground of illusion, full of false paths, false values and false ideals. But you are not part of that world.

- Sai Baba