Thanks to all who read, reviewed the first chapter, much appreciated! (Ramona: have patience... ) Here's the next installment...

Chapter 2. Rock Bottom

"Jack!" Hotch yelled urgently and rushed forward. He reached the pair in mere strides and somewhere in his brain registered the fact the individual had made no attempt to move but his hand was already travelling to grab the youngster... with force if necessary.

"HOTCH!"

Hotch paused, hand in mid-air, his heart still beating wildly with adrenaline, his desperation palpable.

"AARON, STOP! It's me! Dave."

XXXXX

David Rossi continued to hold Jack as he regarded his friend through the bombardment of snowflakes. Aaron had let his arms fall limply by his side, their contents falling forgotten into the snow at his feet. Although his face was expressionless, the younger profiler's eyes betrayed him as Dave watched his friend gaze at the little boy who had stopped crying but who had buried his head against Rossi's heavy coat. Those same dark eyes which often struck fear into hardened criminals were now filled with anguish, with guilt and worst of all, with helplessness.

"I thought that I might find you two here today." The goateed man said in attempt to break the strained silence. He started to put Jack down but the youngster resisted, his small arms wrapping themselves tightly around Rossi's neck. Dave saw Hotch wince at the reaction. Something was very, very wrong.

"Hotch?" he probed gently. "What's happened?"

Hotch slowly lifted his eyes from his son to meet Dave's. "It's all my fault."

"What is?"

Aaron didn't answer, but returned his to watching his son. His body language was of a man distraught and defeated. Rossi didn't need his profiling skills to know what Hotch was thinking. Today was the anniversary of Haley's funeral. It would be only natural for the Unit Chief to be reliving that day, the events leading up to it and, in true Hotch fashion, to be continuing to blame himself.

Dave sighed inwardly. He hated to see his friend like this but he realized that Aaron needed to let go and begin to grieve. Enough was enough. Rossi also understood that this would mean bringing out the heavy artillery, something he was hesitant to do in front of Jack.

"You know that's not true, Aaron. You didn't take her life."

"Didn't I?" Hotch's eyes became suddenly alert. "She was in protective custody because of me. That was the end of life as she knew it."

"Don't do this Aaron. You know better."

"Do what, Dave?! It's the truth."

Rossi stamped his feet, partly in frustration and partly due to the cold. "You did everything that was humanly possible to keep your family safe. Remember what I said to you back in that alley in Boston? We profile the bad guys. They're the guilty ones, not us."

Hotch crossed his arms and exhaled deeply. "You don't understand. It was my family, Dave! MY FAMILY! And I wasn't there to protect them."

Dave began to lose his patience. Shifting Jack slightly in his arms, he walked so that he stood directly in front of the younger agent.

"You know what, Hotch? You win. You want to spend the rest of your life being Foyet's victim, then fine."

Hotch glared at Rossi but said nothing. He felt his cheeks flush and blood begin to boil in spite of the biting ambient temperature.

Dave's eyes narrowed and he indicated the young boy with a slight jerk of his head. "But if you keep this up, not only will Foyet keep winning, but you'll have broken your promise to Haley. How can you teach him about love when you're doing this crap to yourself?!"

Hotch glanced at Jack, snuggled into Dave's chest and refusing to look at his father. 'What am I doing?' he thought to himself.

Rossi saw the slight softening in Hotch's expression. But he didn't let up. "And not only will you be failing Haley while you're so busy carrying around this incredible guilt, you'll be doing her a huge disservice in forgetting the gift that she gave to you!"

Hotch's hands began to curl into fists; he could feel his fingernails digging painfully into his palms. Dave was going too far. Who was he to lecture him? How could he possibly understand?! The Unit Chief struggled to maintain control.

Rossi didn't miss the clenching of his friend's fists and for a split second thought he was going to be punched. But he hadn't quite finished with what he wanted to say so relentlessly, he continued, "And are you so wrapped up in self-hatred that you've already forgotten that while Haley gave you time, you saved your son?" he asked harshly. "You, Aaron. Jack is here because of your actions... yours and Haley's."

This last diatribe was met with stony silence.

Dave changed tactics slightly and took on a more casual tone. "Speaking of actions, when did you last take time to grieve? Have you talked to anyone?"

Hotch looked sharply at Rossi. "Not in front of Jack." He hissed.

Rossi leaned forward so he was just inches from Hotch's face. "Why not?" he asked evenly. "He takes his cues from his father. Is this any example to set? Burying your grief so far down inside you that it not only disappears, but takes your soul with it... Is that what you want?"

Deep inside, Hotch knew that Dave was right. He hadn't taken time to grieve. At first he justified it by thinking that Jack had needed him to be strong. Then, as he finished his official bereavement leave and returned to the BAU, he felt that he needed to show strength to his team. But twelve months on, the first cracks in his foundation were appearing. A seasoned profiler, he knew he'd been in some sort of denial for months but had ignored it. Now Aaron was in danger of falling into 'prolonged grief' which, if left unattended, could deepen his malaise and potentially render him useless to his son.

Yet he wasn't prepared to hear these home-truths from someone else, even if that person was his best friend. Anger bubbled to the surface once more. Hotch opened his mouth and spat out some sort of reply but it was lost in a sudden large gust of wind.

Rossi stepped back to give his onetime protégé some space. Looking around at the steady deluge of snowflakes, he felt Jack shiver against him. This was not the place for an argument.

"Aaron" shouted Dave over a second ferocious blast of arctic air, "We need to go someplace out of this storm. It's freezing out here!"

Swallowing his own cyclone of emotions, Hotch looked at Jack and nodded. He took a pace forward so that his voice could be heard. "Would you mind taking Jack back to the condo? I... I need to think."

Rossi stared hard at his friend for a moment. Hotch didn't miss the connotation.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to do anything stupid."

Rossi nodded, biting back the urge to ask exactly how else Aaron would describe somebody remaining alone in a blizzard in frigid temperatures.

"Don't be long. I don't know what happened earlier, but regardless, your son needs you."

Hotch nodded briefly. He bent down and picked up the stuffed bear, brushed off the snow and wordlessly handed it to Rossi. He also retrieved the blanket and empty rose box. Then he leaned forward and gently patted the top of Jack's head.

"See you soon, Buddy. I love you."

Jack didn't move or reply. Hotch sighed sadly, turned and began to make his way back towards Haley's gravestone. Dave watched him for a few moments, a tall forlorn figure disappearing into the whirling wind and snow, then himself turned and, carrying his precious load, headed back towards his SUV.

XXXXX

Returning to the bench opposite Haley's grave, Hotch had just enough presence of mind to lay the blanket down before taking a seat. His face and hands were red with cold but he was immune to the pain. Placing the empty rose box next to him, he silently contemplated the polished grave marker. It seemed to be mocking him:

'She's going to D-I-E because of your inflated ego.'

Aaron closed his eyes while the storm continued to rage around him.

'Damn you, Foyet.'

Hotch struggled with his thoughts. His mind was in turmoil. He found himself replaying that final conversation with Haley, over and over again like an old vinyl record that had become stuck.

'I'm sorry for everything.'

So much pain. So much suffering. He would do anything to erase it all, to be able to return the mother to her son.

'Promise me that you'll tell him how we met... How you used to make me laugh...'

Hotch shifted on the bench, putting his elbows on his knees and burying his head in his hands. He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed a true laugh, one that starts deep down in the soul and erupts with the power of a volcano; one that represents true joy and happiness.

Almost desperately, he scoured his memory for moments of pure elation; his mind took him back to his first encounter with Haley. They had been in the same high-school. It was the end of Aaron's junior year and he had accidentally walked into a theatre club rehearsal. He had noticed her immediately. Her quick smile and kind eyes had stolen his heart and he knew that he would marry her. The teenager had rushed home to look her up in his yearbook. Haley Brooks, a sophomore. The young Hotchner hadn't understood how he could have missed her for two years, but knew he had to meet her. So he did the first thing that popped into his head: he joined the theatre club.

At the recollection, Hotch felt the faint trace of a small smile crack his wind-chapped lips. He had been the worst fourth pirate in 'The Pirates of Penzance' production but he hadn't cared. He had met the girl of his dreams and if his incompetence made her laugh then it was worth it.

The agent felt a sharp pang as he realized that Jack shared his mother's carefree laugh and easy smile. But both had been absent of late.

'He needs to know that you weren't always so serious, Aaron.'

Hotch tried to pinpoint precisely when he'd started to lose his humour but couldn't. He knew that the job had affected him but he hadn't thought this has extended to his home life. There could be no denying it now and the profiler knew that Haley had been right... Jack needed his daddy to show him there was a light side to life in addition to the all of the evil.

Sitting in the gathering darkness, Hotch ran his hands through snow-matted hair. His body began to shiver and he was semi-aware that his hands and feet were numb. Yet he didn't care; he deserved to suffer.

"I've failed you so many times, Haley." He murmured aloud. "You were always so much stronger than I ever was..."

Never had he ever felt so lost.

"Help me, Haley. I don't know how to make Jack happy. I can't give him what he wants most: you."

The grave, with its fresh blanket of snow, didn't reply. Not that Hotch expected an answer. But he was cold and tired. Exasperated and distraught, he suddenly and violently picked up the box which lay next to him and threw it at the small head stone.

Then he saw them. Nestled against the marble, sheltered from the worst of the storm's wind and only partially covered in snow, lay the two roses... white... symbols of eternal love. Suddenly, Hotch felt a glimmer of strength; their love could never, would never, be taken from them.

'I want him to believe in love because it is the most important thing. But you need to show him. Promise me!

'I promise.'

Aaron looked up into the whirling mass of flakes still falling. For the second time that day, he felt tears begin to well up in his eyes.

"I promise, Haley." He repeated.