Author's Note: I've said this before, but I write fanfic that I like to read. This is different from what I normally write, so if you don't like it, that's fine. In this AU Hotch is 9, JJ's 7, and they're being abused by their parents.

Warning: Mentions of Child Abuse

P.S. If there's anything you'd like to see, I've got about 15 chapters of this story written, but I'd love to put in more.

"Fairy tales are more than true; not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten." –G. K. Chesterton

"Prentiss, are you sure you should even be here?" Penelope Garcia asked, gingerly voicing the concern that seemed to plague the entire team.

"Don't you start on me too." Emily rolled her eyes, "Between the guys, and now you, you'd think I was made of glass. I lost the baby, that's all." She forced her voice not to waiver. "It's not a big deal."

"Gum-drop, it's okay to be devastated." Garcia sighed as she sipped her super java concoction across the table from her best friend and co-worker in a small town that should never see the horrors that brought the illustrious BAU to their front door. "Maybe this just wasn't the right time."

"I know." Emily Prentiss sighed. Fighting the surprising swell of emotions that bubbled to the surface and threatened to make her voice tremble. "It's just Dave and I have been trying for so long—"

"Dave?" Garcia shivered, consciously trying to lighten the conversation. "Ew. That's still so weird for you to call him that."

Emily rolled her eyes. "Generally when you've been seeing someone for two years, you call them by their first name."

"But he was our boss."

"Was." Emily pointed out. "Now Derek's in charge. And while now we could have a baby, God apparently has a vendetta against me." Realizing that she had yet again brought the conversation back to the greatest obstacle in her life, she shrugged easily, pretending as if her heart wasn't shattering. "It's fine."

Penelope sighed, "Oh Em." She frowned, hating her friend's heartache.

Emily frowned as she sipped her Diet Coke, fighting the lump in her throat. "I think we'd be good parents." She added softly.

"You would." Garcia responded immediately, knowing that while Emily might put on a brave face, this was killing her inside. "You will."

Emily's fingers gently swiped at her eyes as if scratching an itch, flicking away the small pools of tears that had accumulated. This time was harder. This time she had felt their child growing inside her for months, just to have the thing she longed for most snatched away.

Maybe she just wasn't destined to be a mother.

Catching sight of the time on her phone, she sighed. "We should probably go."

"Probably. But Em? You may be a bad-ass FBI Agent, but if you ever need to talk, I'm here. You know that right?"

Touched, Prentiss smiled sadly. "I know. It's just hard."

Penelope frowned, despising that there wasn't some magic wand she could waive to make everything better.

"Oomph." Penelope grunted, uncharacteristically surprised as she tripped over a small figure with the contents of her purse spewing all over the sidewalk. What looked to be like a six or seven year old girl instantly jumped up from the ground and started helping Penelope gather her belongings.

"Hi Sweetheart." Emily helped the girl to her feet, surprised to find the girl comprised of no more than what felt to be skin and bones. "Are you okay?"

The girl panted slightly, looking around nervously before smiling shyly and nodding.

Out of the corner of her eye, Emily noticed a tall, skinny, black-haired boy watching them. Turning her attention back to the young blonde girl in front of her, she smiled reassuringly. "We didn't see you there. Are you sure you're ok?"

The girl glanced back and Emily followed her gaze toward the slightly older boy. "Is that your brother?"

The little girl nodded, speaking up for the first time. "Sorry."

"It's my fault." Garcia dismissed, brushing her brightly colored skirt off as she resituated herself.

The little girl surprised Emily by throwing her arms around the seasoned profiler and giving her a warm hug before she scampered off and waved, her brother following her as they disappeared around a corner.

"You okay?" Emily turned to her friend, brushing off the dirt softly dusting Penelope's neon green suit jacket.

"I'm fine." Penelope nodded, looking through her purse to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything. "Wait!" She felt her pockets just to be sure. "That little urchin stole my wallet!" Garcia gasped, horrified.

"What? No." Prentiss shook her head, glancing into Garcia's purse just to be sure.

"Em. It's gone." Penelope held out her open purse as proof.

Emily glanced around, "Are you sure you didn't just miss it? It could have fallen out?"

"Um, Em? Yes. I'm sure. Check your stuff, make sure she didn't take anything of yours."

"My badge." Emily groaned as she felt into her empty pocket.

"Don't worry. I'll find that pipsqueak in no time."

Emily glanced back to the corner where she had last seen the little girl, having an odd feeling that maybe in this case things weren't exactly as they appeared.

.oOo.

"Why the hell are you smiling?" Their mother, a tall woman with blonde hair and striking blue eyes that did nothing to undermine the fear she struck in the two children, rolled her eyes. "What do you have to be proud of?" She sneered at her daughter, "Did you finally learn to tie your stupid shoes?"

"Sorry." The little girl murmured, her brother wisely staying silent.

Looking over the small collection of cash and credit cards, she took a long drag of the joint in her hands before eyeing her two children coldly. "This is it? For the both of you?"

The seven year old, Jennifer, glanced back toward her older brother, biting her lip as she nodded.

"Brat." Shelby Hotchner murmured, grabbing JJ forcefully by the arm. "It's not enough." She spat.

"I tried Mommy." JJ pled, itching for some form of motherly affection.

"Go wait for your father." She pushed the little girl toward the front room and the child obeyed reluctantly.

"Mom, no! It wasn't her fault." The boy spoke up urgently, "She stole this all. It's my—" He had been so caught up in trying to assume the blame that he hadn't seen his mother lift her hand and was cut off as she smacked him harshly across the face.

"Don't you dare talk back to me." She raised her eyebrow at her only son who cradled his cheek in surprise. "Wait for me upstairs."

Aaron Hotchner was not a boy who cried.

Ever.

At nine years old, he learned that crying was for the weak, an avenue for kids whose parents gave a damn to pay attention to them. And all the little boy who went by the name 'Hotch' wanted was for his parents to forget about him.

And his sister.

But apparently that was asking too much.

JJ had only lied for him because she knew how much he hated stealing. It should be the big brother's job to protect his sister, not the other way around. Yet JJ was well aware how much Hotch detested the task their parents had given them.

Bring home money.

That was all they had to do. Yet when the amount wasn't enough, JJ was the one who was blamed (like always).

And he, her big brother, couldn't do anything to stop it.

Ascending the stairs, he heard his sister's pained whimpers from the front room and water (not tears) involuntarily escaped down his cheeks as he let himself into his bedroom. He didn't know what happened when JJ spent time alone with their father. But he knew it was bad.

He had tried to protect her.

But he just wasn't strong enough.

And now, despite JJ lying for him, he was in trouble too.

This wasn't right. It wasn't fair. He knew it. He knew this wasn't how parents were supposed to treat their children. But as the door opened and his mother stood in the doorway with the familiar thin electrical cords in her hands, Hotch felt his stomach drop.

It didn't matter what was fair.

Right now, Hotch had more important things to worry about.

Like surviving.