Heyoo! I'm back again. New chapter and all, can you believe that? Finally, I know. I thought I'd have more time on my vacation, but sadly, I was wrong. I've been so busy, but here it is. So just sit back, relax and enjoy. PS. All reviews are highly appreciated and wanted. And thank you thank you thank you all and every one of you for typing those. Keep them coming, it means very much.

PPS. Don't lean back too far and fall from your chair. I'm not responsible for that.

Anyways, enjoy :)

Chapter 7.

"Morgan. Take Will and Reid with you to Hotch's apartment. Try to find anything that might tell us what happened during the weekend. Where he was and who he was with. Anything, okay?" Rossi ordered seeing all three men nod to him as a sign for understatement.

Will quickly took his badge and jacket and headed out behind the agents.

Rossi then turned towards the women. "Emily, JJ contact Jessica and try to explain all this to her, and ask if it's okay that Jack stays with her as long as needed. It would be more comfortable to the boy himself and also to Hotch to know that his son is okay. After that, the crime scene at 5th, that small quiet alley, know the place? I'll be going there as soon as I can, so we'll meet there then."

"We're on it." Emily said, giving one quick glance to both men and walked outside with Jennifer.

"I need still to talk with Hotchner, so I'm not able to come with you to the crime scene." He said almost apologetic, but that light smirk on his face ruined it. "Tucker! Come 'ere!" Copeland shouted at the young detective on the other side of the office.

The younger one jumped clearly as Copeland called him. He got up quick and walked to them back straight and long steps. " Yeah?" He bit his dry lips gently trying to avoid eye contact with George. Rossi easily noticed how uncomfortable Tucker felt with Copeland.

"I want you to go with Agent Rossi to the crime scene. Okay?" Copeland demanded. Tucker just nodded dryly and got his stuff. "I'm going to Agent Hotchner now, if you don't mind."

"Copeland!" Rossi shout after him before walking out of the station with Tucker. "Remember what we talked about."

George just smirked to the older one watching them walk off. *Right, not gonna happen*

He was a little disappointed to meet his idol like this. He has been a fan of Rossi's for a good while now, and seeing how protective he was towards such jerk like Hotch, was something he didn't understand. He couldn't understand how one-sided the whole team was to this situation.

"How are you holding up?" asked the detective as he stepped into the interrogation room. Hotch didn't react much to that, only raised his eyes from the floor to see who it was, turning them back to the same spot almost immediately.

"Like you care" he muttered towards the man, feeling his eyes on him.

"You're right about that. I don't care." he smirked as he draw himself a chair from the other side the table. " You know, I've been thinking" he said eyes deeply on Hotch "how man like you, who has everything on his life, ends up doing something as pathetic as this?"

Hotch kept his head down, biting his lip, he tried to remember. Anything would be so much to him right now. He's starting to get frustrated as he remembers all that happened on last Friday and day before that and before that, but nothing after Friday. Trying to remember what happened after that was just a black hole on his memory.

"But then I started thinking, Is this all about Haley?" Copeland said, smirk widely shown on his lips.

Hotch froze. How did he know about that? His team could never tell him about something like that. How did he know about what happened?

"Did you just snap like that, and thought that maybe killing someone would make you feel better. I mean after all that you did to Foyet, it felt good, didn't it. Beating a man to death, it made you feel like in control again." Copeland continued glancing and waiting the agent to react to it. He saw how he was fighting a war with himself, trying to decide if he answered to him or not.

But then Hotch's self-control betrayed. "You have no Idea, no Idea what happened. So you better shut your mouth about something you have no clue about." he hissed through his white teeth to him while leaning towards to him on his chair.

He tried to take a control of himself again, faintly managing.

"Oh, feeling powerless? Not in control? You're not the boss here, I write the rules, you follow them?"

Hotch leaned back to the back of his chair, crossing his arms to his chest, cooling down his head. He knew he had to stay cool if he wanted to manage.

But it was hard. My god it was hard for him.

And seeing Hotch like that gave Copeland the greatest gaiety.

"You know, I have a slight clue of what happened" he said dropping a light brown binder to the table. He opens it slowly, clears his throat and starts reading. "On September 23th 2009 you were brought to ER. Multiple stab wounds on your chest and abdomen. That must have hurt." He commented quick, then continuing. "But still, after such trauma, you took only a month free from work to recover. Which in my opinion very little if we consider the fact that you were stabbed 9 times."

"34 days." Hotch muttered to him quietly, keeping his head down.

" Excuse me?"

" I said ' 34 days'. It's more than a month." Hotch repeated to him, raising his head. Copeland gave Hotch one quick glance, smirking widely, then turning back to the file.

"After getting back to work, your behavior was more... driven, even a little dangerous and venturesome. And your family was relocated, because you couldn't keep them safe." The detective just kept grinning to the agent, who tried all he can to keep his head cold. All he wanted to do was to shout at him to shut up. But he didn't want to give him that advantage.

"You son of a bitch." Hotch muttered to him, but Copeland didn't hear him, or just ignore him completely, the binder on his hands smiling with a slight sign of disgust shown.

"And then, November 25th 2009, the tragedy of your life hits. George Foyet, aka the Reaper goes after your family. Killing your wife... sorry. Ex-wife." Copeland emphasizes the word Ex-wife. He really enjoyed to see the so called good man like this. Doing all he can to not to get angry with him, which is exactly what he was trying to do. "But this part is when it all comes interesting. According this report of yours about the events of that day, you killed him after you found Haley dead on the floor. Ouch. And with cold blood. Ugh." He showed Hotch a picture of Foyet, laying on the floor face all bloody and swollen after his beating. After he had beaten him even though he knew he was dead already. He continued hitting him. Over and over again. Morgan had to really tear him off of him.

"Stop it. Hotch! He's dead. He's dead!" Morgan had shouted at him while tearing him off of Foyet's corpse. He can still hear his voice shouting that to him so clearly, even though it all happened five years ago.

" Was that the feeling when you felt yourself the most powerful? You wanted to feel that again? So you decided to kill your best friend? Is that it? How did it feel? Did it make you feel more powerful? C'mon Hotchner. I'm curious.

"Go to hell George." Hotch said sitting more straight on his chair, trying to get more comfortable positions. Well, as comfortable as you can get handcuffs way too tight on your wrists.

"Is this what happens when you feel like losing your power? You became violent? Are you imagining to stabbing me also in your head? You must be quite mad at me right now. Oh and I'm sure Alcohol is in big position on your life. How's your son, Jack wasn't it? How badly bruised is he right now? Is he scared of you? Is he starting to fight back?"

And that was it. Hotch's self-control failed. " You son of a bitch!" He shouted at him jumping up from his chair. " You're accusing me, not only of a murder of my best friend, which I did not do by the way, but also of abusing my own son. I am not like my father! Jack means world to me, I would never hurt him!" Hotch shouted. His blood was boiling inside him. How dare he to accuse him of something like this.

Copeland also shut up, grinning ear to ear. "There you go Hotchner. Let it all out. Get angry, for real. I want to know what you're capable of. Go ahead. I have time." Copeland laughed as saw Hotch fiery brown eyes, trying all he can to calm the man down. He definitely hit a nerve, which gave him great pleasure. *You don't mess with me Hotchner. I'm the one in charge here, get used to that.*