Disclaimer: Criminal minds and its characters belong to CBS, ABC not me.

Thanks to Brummie for her editorial skill, help and cheering up thanks to Laura_G for your help.

Now, on with the story…

"Hotch, STOP!"

SSA David Rossi's shout rang out into the room empty of furniture and decoration where SSA Aaron Hotchner was holding George Foyet by his shirt collar, his service weapon under the Boston Reaper's bloody chin, ready to send Foyet to the hell the man so deserved.

Foyet was lying on the stained tarp that was spread across the hardwood floor, his hands relaxed by his side and not defending himself. There was blood dripping from his nose and a maniacal grin plastered on his face.

Hotch was looming menacingly over the man known as the Reaper, a look of intense hatred on his usually attractive face.

At this precise moment there were no question in David Rossi's mind that his best friend would blow Foyet's brains out. Not that Dave would mind if Foyet met his maker. Hell he would pull the trigger himself if he could. He didn't have much to lose when you looked at it, only his dog would miss him if he had to do time for dispatching the Boston Reaper. On the other hand, Hotch was now a single father; he would have to take care of his four year old son Jack. He sure couldn't do that if he was on death row or worse, dead, shot by a fellow agent or a local cop.

Dave didn't spare any looks for the army of law and enforcement agents that had spilled into the empty living room of the newly renovated house. He knew Morgan and Prentiss were in the room, probably as afraid as he was that their leader, no matter what Strauss might say or do, would flush his life away by pulling the tantalizing trigger of his Glock. Instead, Dave just concentrated on Hotchner, hoping he could persuade him to let the bastard live until he could meet with a lethal injection.

Forcefully, Rossi tried again. "Hotch!…Aaron, listen to me!"

Hotchner didn't look away from Foyet. If anything his finger was now on the trigger having moved it from the side of his gun. "Aaron, don't do this."

Without breaking eye contact with Foyet, breathing harshly as if he had run a marathon, Hotch finally spoke. "Dave, he deserves to die, for what he did to Haley, to those people on that bus..."

'Good.' A stressed Morgan thought, 'Keep him talking.'

Rossi murmured, "I know he does and he will pay for it Hotch. You of all people know he will be judged, but in a court of law, not here."

"Don't listen to him Aaron, just pull the trigger! You promised you would kill me while I was slicing you..." George Foyet said tauntingly.

Hotch took a deep breath but didn't do anything except stare at the hated man.

Dave reholstered his gun and took a step towards Hotchner so that Hotch would see him better. He knew that in order to have a chance of getting through toHotch he needed to make physical contact with the man.

"Hotch, think about Jack. What will happen to him if you end up on death row? Who will take care of him?"

That got Hotch's attention. He looked at Rossi, who saw some sanity come back into the former Unit Chief eyes.

Dave continued, "Remember what you asked me when you were in the hospital? You wondered 'What will Jack remember of me in ten years?' Do you want him to remember that he had to grow up without his dad because his father was awaiting death in a federal prison?"

Hotch took another deep breath, his grip on Foyet's front shirt loosening by a fraction, his other hand still held the Glock under Foyet's chin. He was torn by his deep desire to get revenge now and by another equally deep desire to protect and take care of his son.

Aaron Hotchner was by nature a man who took care of others. After his father's death, he had taken care of his younger brother Sean, becoming a surrogate father to his brother who typical of any teenager, had rebelled and resented, even to this day, his older brother's authority. Even with his team he was the caring one, the one who would check on each agent when things got too hard, when they got sick or had troubles in or away from the job. His team called him ' mom' behind his back, not that he didn't know about it, he did, very little escaped him. But now, Hotch was not the man they all knew. He was more like the one he had fought all his life to keep hidden, the man who, given half a chance, could be his abusive father.

Hotch had met that part of himself years ago in high school when a bully had decided to teach Hotchner a lesson about not sharing his school work. Darren Woodland had pushed and then punched the younger boy in the stomach. After Aaron had collapsed on the ground clutching at his stomach, Woodland had taken off with Hotch's backpack.

The next day, after Mr. Halloway had given Hotch a zero for not doing his homework, a furious Aaron had waited near the railroad track for Woodland to show up. Hotch had let go of all the pain and frustration he had felt not just on the day Woodland had beaten him up and stole from him but at what his father had done to him for years. On that day a very dark part of him had come to the surface, one that had beaten the crap out of Woodland and even threatened the bully to do worse if he told anyone about it.

Later that night while lying in his bed, after the adrenaline rush had worn off, Aaron had felt sick and scared at what he had done. On that day, Aaron had realized that he shared more with his father than just looks; he had the potential to be just as nasty if given the right circumstances. That realization had been a life changing moment for the young boy. He vowed right then and there to never lose control like that, to never let that part of him see the light of day again.

Now, back in the tense room, surrounded by friends and colleagues, looking into George Foyet's crazed eyes, Aaron Hotchner the adult could feel that part of him fighting to come out again, that wild animal wanted to taste Foyet's blood. He didn't look away from the Reaper.

Rossi darted a quick look at the temporary Unit Chief. Morgan's weapon was trained on Hotchner's right shoulder. But he saw Derek give one of the local cops who was armed with a Tazer gun a sign to move closer to Hotch's back. Dave knew that the last thing Derek or anyone on the team wanted to do was to hurt Aaron.

Opposite Morgan was Emily Prentiss. She was standing in front Hotchner, her gun trained on Foyet's head. Emily's kept looking at Rossi worriedly. Dave didn't pay much attention to her; he knew that if Foyet made one threatening move, Emily would not hesitate to shoot the bastard.

"Aaron, please. I know you are smarter than this. You KNOW what he is doing." Dave took another step towards Hotchner. He was so close now from Hotch that he could touch his taut right arm if he wanted. "You know the game he's been playing since the moment you refused his deal. All his moves since then, the attack, the scars he inflicted on you, the scars that are mirror images of his... You know why he did all of this, right?"

Still breathing hard and still refusing to look away from Foyet's eyes, Hotch just nodded. He knew the Reaper's need for control but he wasn't sure if he cared anymore, not after what the bastard had done to Haley and might have done to Jack.

"Hotch, what Foyet wants is not just to be bigger than Bundy; it's now more than that. His goal is not even to control you, he knew he couldn't do that the moment you refused his deal."

"And to think that you became a famous profiler by spewing such garbage. Agent Rossi, I am so disappointed." said a sneering Foyet.

Dave ignored the serial killer and kept his focus on Hotch who was still refusing to look at his friend. "What the bastard wants is to destroy you and the most satisfying way for him to do that is by making you become what he is."

At that Hotch's eyes darted quickly to the senior profiler. Rossi could see he had now pierced Hotch's wall of anger and desire for revenge. Dave knew that Hotch's sense of right and wrong was strong, that for all his life it had ruled Aaron's actions and decisions. But was this sense now stronger than his desire for revenge? Dave was staking his friend's future on it.

"You know Aaron that is why he stabbed you in precisely the same places he had stabbed himself; he wanted your scars to mirror his." Dave took a breath then continued while he had his friend's attention. "The only thing left for him to do to accomplish his goal is to provide a trigger for you, something to tip you over the edge..."

At Hotch's unflinching grip on the Reaper, Rossi knew he would need to make a final connection with Hotchner, make him see that if he killed Foyet he would not just lose to Foyet or lose Jack but that he would lose himself.

As a former Unit Chief and as Hotchner's former supervisor Rossi knew about Hotchner's past. He knew about the type of man the younger agent's father had been. One night over shared beers after a nasty case of a man beating to death men that reminded him of his father, Hotch had muttered under his breath, 'Could have been me'. He had thought Rossi too drunk to hear him. But Dave persisted and after some nudging, Hotch had told him about his father, how he had made life for his wife and son a living hell. From what little Hotch had told Rossi and from what he had gathered as a profiler from Hotch's own behaviour, he understood that Hotch's greatest fear was to become his father, to lose control of himself.

"Aaron, do not become like Foyet." Dave took a step closer; he was now standing two inches from Hotch. Leaning close to Hotchner's right ear, he whispered, "Despite what you think you were never like your father and could never be like him. You ARE a good man Aaron. You may not always do the right thing for yourself but you always do it for others."

Dave could see that he had gotten to Hotch now. The younger agent was blinking furiously at some tears but still would not let go of Foyet.

Dave didn't pay attention to his fellow officers who were all anxiously watching the two FBI agents. His concentration was totally on Hotchner. "Let go Aaron. Do it for Jack, for your little boy who needs his father." Dave went with his last argument; the one he hoped would sway Hotch away from the precipice. "Do not let this sonofabitch take more away from you and Jack than he has already."

Everyone in the room held their collective breath, not daring to break the connection Rossi had made with their desperate colleague and friend.

Hotch looked at Foyet one last time. Dave could see the murderous fever was gone now from Hotch's face, replaced by weariness. Aaron took his finger off of the Glock's trigger, opened his hand and let go of Foyet's shirt. The Reaper fell down on his back, looking up with disbelief at the former Unit Chief. Hotch took a few steps away from the serial killer.

At that moment Foyet sensed that what he had worked so hard to do would slip away from him, his victory over the man who had never given up hunting him. In one last ditch effort to destroy the only man to ever dare defy him, he got up ready to attack Hotchner, hoping to force the agent into shooting him.

It didn't work. As one, both Morgan and Prentiss fired at Foyet. Morgan's bullet hit Foyet in the chest while Prentiss' shot hit the Reaper in the back of the head. The man was dead before his body hit the floor.

Hotch didn't look back at what had just happened; he simply reholstered his weapon and walked out of the house.

Dave waited a few seconds before he followed his friend. He needed some time to get his breath back after such a close call. Once outside, he stopped on the porch where he was joined by Morgan and Prentiss. Rossi had seen Agent Jareau coming out of a FBI-issued black SUV. In her arms was a scared looking blond boy who was clutching fiercely at her neck. The media liaison was being a bit choked by Jack but she didn't pay attention to this when she saw Aaron Hotchner running towards her.

'Jack!' Hotch cried.

With outstretched little hands, Jack shouted, "Daddy!"

JJ handed the now squirming boy to his father and took a step back to give them some space.

Hotch took his son in his arms and hugged him tightly, feeling the weight of all those months away from his little boy, of not knowing when or if he would ever hold him again, slide away. Not caring who saw or heard him, Hotch, his eyes moist, kept repeating over and over "Jack buddy, I've missed you so much! I love you..."

No one from the team could stop the tears that were falling down their cheeks. They all knew what the past months had been like for their leader, how hellish it been, how much he had lost at the hands of George Foyet. But despite it all, the pain, the fear, the despair, the loss of his position in the unit and the loss of the mother of his son to Foyet's murderous plan, Hotch had his little boy back. There was now hope that things would finally start to get better; there was reason to smile again.

The End.

Nicely done, Bri! I removed some of the bolding that was still there, changed a couple words but much happier now! Just the one suggestion on the first page but love it. More stories soon please, especially that other one that I KNOW is done... ;)

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