Hotch woke up at around mid-noon. He had intended on sleeping in the spare bedroom, the one where Jessica usually slept when she stayed overnight to babysit, but couldn't get comfortable. The pillows were too firm, the comforter was a funny material, the sheets kept crumpling. He headed downstairs and laid slumped on the sofa, just staring at the ceiling, his head propped up on the arm rest. He thought about everything. He thought about Jack. What Jack was going to look like ten years from now, if Hotch would be alive to see it considering the dangers of his job, what Jack would be like in high school, if Jack would resent Hotch not always being around, if Jack would see his father as a hero. What would Jack look like in college, or getting married, or having his own children. He thought about why he never had any more children besides Jack. He thought about whether he ever considered asking Hayley if she wanted any more. He thought about JJ, how she could've died last night, how another life he cared for could've been taken away so simply, just like that. He thought about her sleeping upstairs, and how it was an effort to not hold her in his arms everytime he saw her. He kept thinking until he wound up asleep.
But he woke up a few hours later to Jack shaking him, telling him he was heading off to school soon. Hotch asked if he needed breakfast. Jack said no, that he'd already poured himself cereal and eaten it. The bus outside honked noisly and Jack quickly hugged and kissed him goodbye, scampering off to his future, not even asking anymore why Hotch didn't come home last night. After he couldn't go back to sleep. He took a shower and gotten dressed, deciding to call work, since he hadn't even given a reason why he didn't go in. Or why JJ didn't go in, either. Come to think of it, they probably were freaked out.
He checked his cell phone and noticed everyone on the team called. Three voice messages from Morgan. He played the first one. Hotch, where are you? Your an hour and a half late. Is JJ with you? It's not like you to be late. Call me back. See ya. Delete. Next one: Hotch, seriously, it's been two hours. Did something happen? We're really worried about the both of you. Call me as soon as you get this. Delete. Next one: Hotch, everybody's losing it over here, man, call us, would you? Garcia tried and she couldn't reach JJ. Are we going to have to send out a search party? I'm giving you until noon then I'm finding out where you are. Hotch deleted it then checked the clock, noticing that it was about fifteen minutes past twelve. He quickly called him back.
"Hotch!" Morgan exclaimed into the phone, sighing a breath of relief. "Where the hell have you been? We've all been panicking."
"I'm fine," he said casually. "We both are."
Morgan sighed, this time sounding angry and exasperated. "So she is with you," he said slowly, leading Hotch to believe he was informing the whole team on this discovery.
Hotch nodded. "Yes, she's fine too," he insisted. "But something did happen late last night."
"Something what?" Morgan said, panicked. "Something did happen? What happened, Hotch?" Wow. He said they were fine, no reason to freak, Morgan. Hotch never noticed how panicky he truly is. He always thought he was the strongest of all of them.
"JJ's house caught fire."
"Is she okay?" Morgan practically yelled.
"Yes, I said she is."
He sighed, and he heard Morgan tell everyone in the background the exact same news. "How did the fire start?" he asked, back to their conversation.
"It's a long story, but it wasn't an accident, Morgan," Hotch informed slowly, giving him time to process it thoroughly. "Some guy, a friend of Will's, tried to kill them."
Morgan made a noise of some kind, and Hotch imagined how angry this must be making him.
"Well, he wanted to save them. It's kind of a confusing story, and I don't have time to explain. Either way, I'm not coming into work today and neither is JJ."
Morgan sighed. "How can I help?" he then paused and asked, "Did Will have anything to do with this?"
"I don't think he did," Hotch sighed. "Or I'm hoping he didn't."
"Man, that'd kill JJ," Morgan shook his head. Then the panic in his voice returned. "Wait, you said them? Whose 'them'?"
Hotch pulled the phone from his ear and gave it a funny look, then brought it back. "What?"
"You said, 'He tried to kill them.' Whose 'them'?"
"Henry." Hotch said, sounding slightly irritated. I mean, how could he have forgotten?
"Henry was there?" Morgan said, shocked. Hotch heard gasps coming from the distance.
"Yes, but he's okay too. They went to the hospital and stayed overnight, but they're fine. They weren't burned anything, nothing too serious," he inhaled sharply. "They're staying with me now."
He heard the silence on the other end. It was strangely and awkwardly very loud. "How come she's staying with you?" Maybe Hotch was wrong, but he heard the slightest bit of a smirk in Morgan's tone.
"Because her house burned down, Morgan," he replied, wanting to smack him. "It's no big deal. Where else was she supposed to go?"
Morgan shrugged a shoulder, smirking widely. "Oh, I don't know," the smirk was heavily apparent in his tone. "Maybe the house of the father of her kid?"
Hotch sighed, very annoyed. "She was going to call him but I told her not to. It'd be very awkward for her."
"I bet." Morgan nodded. He was still smirking.
"Cut it out." Hotch snapped.
"Okay, fine," still smirking. "So, you two, uh," he pictured Morgan wiggling his eyebrows teasingly. He really was, too. "Have a good night last night?"
Hotch's cheeks flushed. "I'm hanging up now."
"Fine, fine, have it your way," Morgan said, more seriously. "But if you ever want to talk to me about stuff, I'm free to call. Anytime." his smirk returned.
"Stuff? What's stuff?"
"You know." he wiggled his eyebrows again.
Hotch raised his. "No, I don't."
Morgan sighed, annoyed at him not getting it. "About," he brought his mouth closer to the phone and whispered. "About sex."
Hotch started blushing again. He put his face in his hand. "That won't ever happen," he clarified. "Ever."
"What won't? You talking to me about sex or you having sex with JJ?"
Hotch paused. "The first one. Definitely."
Morgan was smiling now. "Fair enough," he shrugged. "But the offer will always be there."
Hotch grinned. "Thanks."
"And take care of her, Hotch, although I know you will."
Hotch nodded. "Of course."
Morgan took a breath. "So, is there anything we can do to help you find this son of a bitch?"
Hotch shook his head immediately. "No. I'll handle this, it's all taken care of."
"Are you sure?" Morgan asked, sounding uncertain.
"Yes, definitely," Hotch nodded. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."
"Okay..." Morgan said, He hesitated hanging up. "Just be careful," he exhaled softly then said, "Please."
Hotch had decided to call Will himself. He convinced himself over coffee and heavily thinking that that would be the best solution. Of course, he didn't know Will's cell phone number. He looked around for JJ's phone, but remembered ten minutes in that it had burned down. Of course. He had to call Garcia and have her give him his cell phone number, which was a bad idea, since she was all rattled about the fire and whatnot.
"So, she's okay? My baby's okay, right?" she asked, frantically.
Hotch stared at the number on the yellow Post-It sticky. "Yes, Garcia, they're sleeping right now," he smiled and added, "Peacefully." he heard her sigh a pleased sigh, relaxing. He was still smiling. He was glad that he was the reason they were peaceful.
"So you need me to help track down this bastard? I can do that!" she exclaimed, happy to help.
He shook his head. "It's not necessary, it'll be quicker this way," though much, much more awkward. "I should call him now."
"Keep me posted, please?" Garcia batted her lashes at the computer screen in front of her.
"I'll tell you guys about everything tomorrow at work." he promised.
She sighed; that wasn't good enough. She wanted instant updates like Twitter feed or something. "Fine." she decided. "Be careful."
He nodded. Yet another person he had to promise that to. He clicked off and sat at the kitchen table, dialing Will's number.
It rang three times before the sound of rustling picked up then Will's voice. He was breathing heavier than usual. "Hello?" He didn't recognize the number.
"Hey, Will, it's Aaron Hotchner," he paused. "I work with JJ." Silence. "I was at the hospital when she delivered Henry." Silence. "Okay, never mind -"
Will shook his head. "No, no, of course I remember you," he said, laughing slightly. "I was just trying to figure out why you're calling me. Is everything alright?"
"Yes," okay, that's a lie. "For the most part. I just need you to do me a favor."
Will paused. "Okay, what is it?" he asked, sounding reluctant and curious.
"I need an address of one of your friends," When Will didn't say anything, Hotch continued, "Andy's address."
Will paused again. Hotch heard a noise of legs of a chair squeaking against a tile floor and the sound of cheap wood making a creaky noise. "How come?" he asked, hesitant.
"I can't really tell you, but it's really important." The last thing Hotch needed was Will getting in the middle of the ass-kicking process.
"Then I can't give it to you." Will challenged.
"Will, I'm serious," Hotch said.
"You're always serious." Will said cockily.
Hotch sighed. He was about to throw his phone into the kitchen sink, shove it down the garbage disposal and flick the switch so it chopped away into millions of angry pieces. "Will, I can get the address if I have to, I work with the FBI, but I figured you'd want to help, since this is important to JJ."
Will sighed. Hotch relaxed, thinking maybe he got through to him. "What did Andy do?" Will asked cautiously.
"I can't say, but I can promise she and Henry are just fine," he left out the fact that they're staying with him. "So, are you going to give it to me or not?"
Will paused thoughtfully. "Fine, but you have to promise me two things,"
Hotch readjusted in his seat. "Tell me them first."
More fumbling noises in the background. "One, promise me you'll let me know what's going on," Will began.
"After I take care of it, definitely. You'll hear it from JJ herself." Hotch swore.
Will paused, then decided that was good enough. "And two, that they're both okay," he paused, exhaling sadly. "That they're happy, I mean."
Hotch felt sad. Like he was being involved in something that wasn't his, and never will be. "Yeah. They're happy." Hotch said, kind of lying. I mean, he didn't really know if they are or not.
"Okay then." Will said, in a final kind of way, like that was all he needed to know all along.
Hotch scribbled on another yellow Post-It sticky, slapping it on the kitchen table. It said, Decided to pick Jack up for lunchtime at school and take him out. Help yourself to the shower or kitchen appliances or anything you might need. My place is your place. He was going to be honest; really, he was. He had actually written down several honest notes, but they all sounded wrong. Going to find Andy, was the first one he wrote, then followed: Got Andy's address. I'll be back later. Then the last one, the absolute worst: Found Andy. Don't worry, I'll get him back. He crumpled them up and tossed them in the white plastic garbage bin beside the counter and decided to lie. Lying was easier.
He pulled into the small concrete driveway of Andy's small house. Frilly curtains in the window, floral swing on the porch, and if Hotch was a betting man, he'd guess the inside decorations and furniture were very feminine too. He walked up the porch and knocked on the door. He wasn't stupid, he had gotten a warrant. He was about to tell his team and inform all sorts of people so he wouldn't search the house alone, cause that's never a good idea, but he wanted to do this alone. He knocked again. The door knob twisted but never opened.
"Andy?" Hotch called. He nudged the door open slightly but carefully with the toe of his boot. It creaked open about an inch. He shoved it harder, until it opened halfway. He crept in, gun raised.
"Andy?" he called again. He searched the living room, the kitchen. There wasn't a second floor. It was a very tiny house. Where was this wife he talked about, that Will saved?
Dishes filled the sink, leftover empty containers trashed the counter-tops. This wasn't the house of a housewife. This was the house of a lonely bachelor. Who had lost his partner; the house still filled with what's left of her.
"Glad to see you could make it," a voice said, making his way to the kitchen. Hotch pointed his gun to the direction of the voice. Will stepped into the kitchen, a big smirk on his face. Hotch lowered his gun tentatively.
"Why are you here?" Hotch said, accusingly.
"I want to know what's going on." Will said simply, shrugging his shoulders.
"Did you tell Andy I was coming?" Hotch was infuriated. "Did you tell him to go somewhere else?"
Will shrugged again, teasingly. He was about to be pistol-whipped Hotch was so angry. "Maybe,"
"You don't realize what you just did," his lips tightened furiously. "Your letting a killer walk free. A killer who tried to kill JJ and Henry." he didn't mean for it to slip, but he was so angry he couldn't stop himself once he was ahead.
Will frowned. "You don't know what the hell your talking about." he said, shaking his head rapidly. "Your the one storming in here waving your gun around."
Hotch stared at the ceiling to keep from sucker-punching Will. "I have a good reason to, I don't want him harming JJ again," he said.
"How did he harm JJ?" Will was sounding like he was being cocky about the situation. He didn't believe Hotch. "You said she's okay."
"She is," he nodded. "But last night her house burned down."
Will's face paled.
"Andy started the fire, saying something about you saving his wife years ago and wanting to repay you, I don't know all of the details, you'll have to ask JJ -"
Will raised his hand. "Whoa, whoa, wait. Saving his wife? I never saved his wife."
Hotch narrowed his eyes at him. "Okay, that's it," he pulled out a chair from under the table and pushed it over to Will. "Your telling me everything right now."
"Like you told me?" Will said, raising his voice. "You left me out of everything. She was my girlfriend for years, the woman I laid beside every night for years," he declared. "Your nothing but a replacement plan."
Hotch pretended that didn't sting. But okay, it did. He was pretty good at not showing it. "Did you not hear me?" Hotch asked, fuming, his voice shaking from anger. "Did you not hear me say Andy burned down your old house and tried to kill the mother of your child and your child?"
Will paused, then decided to take a seat. "Why am I supposed to trust you? You couldn't wait to move in the second I left," he shook his head at the table, then his face softened and hurt took over. "Andy's been my friend for years, and your not anything to me."
Hotch pulled a seat closer to Will's then sat down too. "I get that, but I've known JJ longer than you have," Hotch raised his hand to keep Will from interrupting. "And you should know that I love her too. I'm protective of her, I always have been. It's nothing against you, it's just my personality. I care about her too. And I should've let you know what happened, and I was going to, I was just afraid you'd react irrationally."
Will collapsed his face in his hands. "Like this?" he mumbled.
Hotch nodded. "Yes, exactly. Like this." he sighed, exasperated, his body becoming hard to hold up. He arrived here with roaring adrenaline pulsating through his veins, now it was all drained. "Where did Andy go? Did he tell you?"
Will shook his head from behind his palms, then looked up. "I didn't tell him anything. He's at work, I think," he said, his eyes drooping slightly. He looked tired too. "Do you know where JJ's staying? I should visit her."
Hotch scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.
Will made a face. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me,"
Hotch raised his eyebrows apologetically.
"That's just great." he muttered under his breath.
"But your welcome to visit." Hotch tried. He didn't like the idea of it, but what the hell. Henry is his kid, after all.
The front door creaked open softly, almost inaudibly, but the chilling sound was enough to make both of them jump straight out of their seats. Hotch raised his gun, and motioned for Will to use the back door in the kitchen and head outside. Will stared reluctantly. Hotch mouthed for him to go. Will didn't like the idea, but opened it and crept outside without making a noise. No need to try being stealth now anyway, the loud scraping of the chair legs on the linoleum floor was echoed throughout the whole house.
Andy stepped out from the dark living room and into the kitchen. He didn't look the least bit surprised that Hotch was there.
"Oh, there you are," he smiled broadly. "I thought I saw you at the bonfire, right?"
Hotch felt his jaw cramping up at the word' bonfire.' Bonfire? That's what he calls it? He aimed the gun directly at him.
"It was a pretty good idea," Andy tried, still smiling. "You have to at least give me that."
"The only thing I'm giving you is handcuffs and a prison sentence."
Andy raised his hands and shook them in a mockery I'm-so-startled gesture. This only pissed Hotch off more. "Oh come on, man, that's not fair. A gun? Really? You can't have the balls to fight me like a man?" He flapped his hand at Hotch.
Hotch lowered his gun slightly, anger igniting his veins, adrenaline pouring back in. Don't do it, Hotch, you have the upper-hand. As long as you have the gun, you have the upper-hand.
"Look, I wasn't going to let her die," Andy insisted, wide-eyed and trying to look innocent. "I was going to save her, honest."
"That's a lie, the entire house was filled with fire, you wouldn't have made it inside alive let alone out with two bodies still breathing."
Andy paused, considered it, then shrugged. "I guess that's true." he snickered. "I guess it was a win-win either way."
Hotch was boiling. He clipped his gun in his gun holster, all the while, a voice told him, Bring it back out. Your becoming equal to him now! Your acting stupid! Your going to get yourself killed! But the other voice, that was much louder, much clearer, enraged him, pushed him.
"Oh, looky there, the gun's put away," Andy waved his finger at him. "Good man. I think too many people hide behind weapons . They're wusses, is what they are."
"That's funny, because I could kill you right now," he lifted the gun and pressed it hard against Andy's forehead, until Andy was backed up completely to the counter. "Huh."
Andy dripped a little sweat across his forehead. "No need to overreact," he smiled innocently. "Your so sensitive. What is it with that girl anyway? I don't get the appeal."
Hotch pressed it harder against his forehead, until the shape of the hole where the bullet flies out leaves a ring on his skin. "Something to think about when your in prison." Hotch said cockily.
"Whatever," Andy said under his breath. "She let me sit on the porch with her. Girls like that," he shook his head. "They're too easy, man. I mean, first Will, then you, then me. How many men did she plan on having inside in one night? And I don't mean inside her house."
Hotch pulled the gun away from his forehead and pulled it back then slammed it hard against his face, until blood spit out and his nose began bleeding.
"Now you're talking." Andy said, his teeth covered with blood. The fact that he was clearly enjoying this only enraged Hotch even more. He thought about JJ, tied to a chair, screaming and crying at the image of her son coming dangerously close to the flame. He hit him hard against the face again with the gun. He thought about JJ falling into his arms, and the ambulance taking Henry and her away from him to give them medical attention. He let the gun drop from his hand and he punched him against the face, with his fist this time. He thought about his comment about JJ being easy. He slammed the back of his head against the cupboard, until Andy's eyes fell closed and he looked to be unconscious.
He let go of his shirt and backed away, looking at his bloody knuckle and the veins protruding in his hands and wrists. He was breathing heavy and sweating. He wanted to kill him. But he couldn't. Andy fell to the floor, spent and bloody and beaten.
"I'm bleeding," Andy said, swallowing.
"Yeah, well, I was going for brain damage, but it's a win-win for me either way." Hotch said, forcing him on his feet and slamming his hard against the kitchen table to handcuff him.
Hotch had taken him down as an arrest. Andy, all the while, was screaming that he needed a lawyer and it's unjust and all that crap. Hotch promised he'd had a good reason to bring him in and that he'd bring in the victim tomorrow to be interviewed. They agreed to hold him overnight but couldn't do much else until they were positive he was rightfully accused.
Hotch took his time driving home, making sure he didn't let the excitement of the whole day get him carried away. In a way, all he wanted to do was hug her. To completely realize she was safe and that she was okay. That this is all over with. When he walked inside, JJ was cooking, and Henry was seated at the table anxiously awaiting his meal.
"Hey, you're home," she smiled at him. Hotch liked the sound of that. You're home. Like it's their home. Together. "You were gone long. Did you have fun with Jack?"
He raised his bloody hand and stared at it, then lifted it for her to see. She put the plate down and charged over to him, taking it in her hands. "Oh my God! What happened?" she gave him a look, instantly knowing. "I'm guessing you didn't get into a fight with one of the teachers."
Hotch shook his head, smiling slightly. He sat her down on the couch in the living room across from the kitchen. "I went to see Andy," he announced. JJ's face paled nervously. "He's being held overnight but they're definitely going to have to talk to you before they can do a full arrest."
She nodded. "Yeah, of course, but are you alright?" she touched his arms then his face. He looked down, taking her hands in his.
"Yes, I'm fine." a smirk grew on his face. "Andy? He's a little shaken up..."
She raised her eyebrows. "Shaken up?"
"Or beaten up, either one."
She laughed a little. This completely girly and adorable giggle he'd never quite heard before. It looked so cute to him that without thinking, he pushed her hair away from her face and kissed her. It couldn't go much farther besides that, because Henry was at the kitchen table. But when he pulled away, she was smiling and she really did look happy. At least he hadn't lied to Will. Oh crap. Will. Where did Will go anyway?
"Are you hungry?" she asked, standing up and heading to the kitchen. "I'm almost done."
He nodded, watching her walk to the kitchen and fumble around with the dishes and prepare some sort of meal on the table. She turned and looked at him, smiled, then went back to spooning the contents onto the plate. He liked this image. Jack came running in the door, backpack swinging back and forth on his back, running directly over to Hotch. "Daddy!" he called, hopping onto his lap. Hotch cradled him, then tousled his hair playfully. "Your home!"
"Yes, I am," he smiled down at him. "And JJ's making us dinner."
JJ smiled at Jack. "You hungry, Jack?" she called over.
Jack jumped to his feet and pulled a chair out from under the table. JJ took that as a yes.
"I'm so easily replaced by food, apparently," Hotch joked, taking off his jacket. He pulled out a chair beside Jack.
JJ put Hotch's plate down in front of him. "Aw," she pinched his cheek teasingly. "Your irreplaceable."
Jack nodded, agreeing with that statement. "Although she can cook." Jack said, diving his fork into his food.
Hotch laughed, fake-offended. "I can't cook?"
Jack eyed him and shook his head, all serious. "No, dad. You cannot cook." he clarified, smiling cutely, like what he said wasn't at all offensive. Like, at all.
Author's note: Damn Andy. Though, I must say, watching Hotch kicks someone's ass is a pretty hot picture. Haha. Hope you guys like it :) And I hope Andy's gone for good. It'd suck if he made a surprise return, huh?
