Author's Note: This is a post ep for their trip to Houston. The random stranglings. It's also the one where Reid's post abduction 'issues' start becoming apparent. I mention that because I make an allusion about it below, but it's addressed in more detail in the next chapter.

The War at Home

As Emily watched Hotch staring off into space, she wondered whether or not it would be appropriate to ask him if he was all right.

At the moment, she was sitting at the small table across from him on the jet. Everyone else was either sleeping or reading, mostly sleeping. When they'd boarded the plane, Hotch had pulled out his paperwork, but then she noticed that he wasn't doing anything with it. The papers were out, but is gaze was just focused on some imaginary point on the table. Emily knew that Gideon was troubled by this case, but it had clearly affected Hotch too, the two of them more so than the rest of them.

Of course she wasn't including Reid in that equation.

He was dealing with his own . . . unrelated . . . demons right now. No, Hotch had been troubled since they'd deduced that the UNSUB was a soldier. Somebody trained to protect people had been so haunted by the terrible things that he had seen and done, that years after he had completely removed himself from that world . . . he had snapped. Roy Woodbridge had gotten a flat tire. Of all the things to trigger your downfall, that was a tough one to swallow.

But that was his.

And now four innocent people were dead. Five really if you counted Woodbridge himself. A man whose only truly deliberate action that had eventually led to those deaths, was to once sign his name to a form and hand it to an Army recruiter.

And so it began.

Choices, they were funny things. Sometimes they seem so right. And then fifteen, twenty years later they come around and bite you on the ass. And though Emily didn't know Hotch that well personally . . . he kept himself very closed off . . . he clearly took his work very seriously, considering it more a duty than simply a job.

Just like a soldier.

Just like Roy Woodbridge.

Emily was still new enough to still consider this a job, but maybe someday it would become a calling for her too. But as it was right now, she knew that she could still walk away. And she could walk away knowing that there wouldn't be any lasting damage to her psyche. But through the veil of her lashes, looking over at Hotch, who appeared so lost and alone, Emily wondered if he could say the same thing.

/*/*/*/*

Hotch bit down on his lip. He was counting in his head the number of people that he had killed, or had seen killed, right in front of him.

Too many.

And he was only forty-four, the same age as Roy Woodbridge. A man who also had a wife that loved him, and friends who were loyal to him. A man who had also chosen a career that served his country by living in a world of violence. And he did that in the hope that if he did his job well, that other people would never have to see the things that he saw.

Nobody should see the things that they saw.

And for his own sanity, Woodbridge had walked away from that world fifteen years ago. But he hadn't known then that it was already too late. Fifteen years out of the filth, and now Woodbridge was dead.

A bullet shot through his chest that had a clear line of sight from Mogadishu . . . to Houston.

Hotch's father had seen a lot of things in the war, and he had come home and drank and cheated on his mother. Not right away though, it was gradual. Hotch remembered that they hadn't started fighting . . . really fighting . . . until he was at least eight or nine.

Before that they were happy.

Because . . . though the stressor that made a person snap and kill was sudden . . . the underlying deterioration that allowed it to happen, that took time. And how many years had he been doing this work?

Twelve.

With almost eight of those in the BAU. So now Hotch was starting to wonder . . . was there already one incident eating away at him, but he didn't know it yet?

That thought was absolutely horrifying, because that thought was absolutely plausible.

And even if that incident hadn't happened yet, it still could be coming for him. Somewhere down the road. The next case . . . or the next one after that.

For him, there were unlimitless horrors yet to come.

Because he knew . . . he wasn't walking away from this world anytime soon. Would he eventually turn out like his father? Or would he turn out like Roy Woodbridge?

"Hotch?"

Hotch looked up as Prentiss quietly spoke his name. His eyebrow inched up.

"Yes, Prentiss?"

Her eyes crinkled slightly.

"Penny for your thoughts, sir?"

Though she didn't ordinarily strike up random conversations with Hotch, Emily hoped that he wouldn't see the question as an intrusion. She just thought that maybe he might like to talk about whatever was bothering him.

Because it was quite clear that something was bothering him.

Hotch held Emily's gaze steady, his voice soft.

"I was just thinking about my father. He was in the Marines."

Emily wasn't sure what it was she'd thought he'd say, but it hadn't been that. Still though, it wasn't terribly surprising. She nodded back.

"Yeah, my dad too. Army though. Special forces in Vietnam before he joined the Agency."

Hotch's eyes dropped from hers, snapping back down to the little table.

"Yeah," he whispered, "my dad was in Vietnam too."

If the look on Hotch's face was any indication, Emily presumed his father had come back in different state than Emily's own had. Her own father was a good humored, gregarious man always quick with a joke and a smile. Hotch didn't seem to come from a background like that.

Far from it.

As Hotch stared down at the table, he realized that they were one question away from Prentiss asking something completely bland and inoffensive about his childhood. Something that he would probably bristle at because he didn't discuss his childhood, ever, and then he'd have to apologize to the woman for the second time in as many months for doing absolutely nothing wrong. And he wasn't sure if he had it in him to deal with that again. Which meant that he really needed to put a full stop to this conversation before any of that happened.

So he quickly changed the subject to one he had been meaning to bring up anyway.

He shuffled the papers in front of him.

"You did a good job on the interview with that little girl."

Emily blinked once at the abrupt change in subject, but then she gave Hotch a little smile.

"Thank you sir."

He nodded. "I think I'd like for you to start taking point on the interviews with the children. See how that goes."

Trying to hide her burst of happiness at this turn of events, Emily bit down her cheek, her eyes crinkling as she looked back over at him.

"Okay."

One of Hotch's faint shadow smiles crossed his lips when he looked at her. Though he still loved his work for the good that they did, sometimes he envied Prentiss' new girl enthusiasm.

His was long gone.

Nothing to be done about that though, so he turned back to the paperwork he had been shuffling fruitlessly. Time to let that other crap go, there was nothing that he could do about it anyway. And with that, Hotch shook his head slightly as he started to fill in the blanks on the cover sheet of his report.

Emily sat back, trying to look casual while shifting her gaze out the window.

Wow! He thought she was doing a good job AND he was going to help her cultivate a specialty!

Feeling the huge grin tugging on her lips, Emily bit down hard to keep from looking like a total goofball.

'This was a big day for gifts from the Prize Patrol!'

A/N 2: It was clear that Hotch was pretty rattled by that case so that was my take on the why. I have to say, these earlier episodes really are even more enjoyable watching them not just for pure entertainment value but being forced to search for the 'deeper character insights' as well. It kind of adds a layer (for me) even though I do have to sometimes squint to then add in a ship slant too :) That's the third layer, the frosting going on top :) Though this really was the episode where it became obvious she started taking point on the interviews with the kids, from here going forward she's pretty much always in the room, therefore the conversation was plausible. And that's all I'm trying for folks, minimal plausibility!

The background on their fathers is, beyond Hotch's dad being a womanizer, all me. Though Hotch and Em are of an age that if either of them did have a father in the military they would have been in Vietnam so that's why the correlation for Hotch made sense to me.

And in case 'Prize Patrol' is just an American thing, they're this group of people in gold blazers that show up at your door with cash and prizes when you win a sweepstakes. Usually they're carrying a big picture of Ed McMahon. At least I think they do . . . . If I ever throw something out and you don't know what it means just ask :) Sometimes Arc will mention something that reminds me not all my references are universal. Like apparently, and you guys haven't seen this chapter yet, but chocolate covered pretzels are like just an American thing? Who knew! They're wonderful by the way, if you ever have the opportunity to partake, please do so.

Reviews make me happy! Thanks!

Next: "Once More Unto the Breach"