Chapter 1: Field Below (song of same title, by Regina Spektor)

Hotch pulled his car up to the curb, sighing as he turned off the ignition and looking out over the wide expanse in front of him. It had been a while since he'd been back here... he hadn't needed to. He had figured out his own ways of feeling close to her, of finding space to talk to her as if she was right there with him, that didn't require him to drive all the way out here. But he was in DC anyway, having taken over some of Strauss' responsibilities for the time-being, and as he'd left the budget meeting and was driving back to Quantico, Hotch felt a sudden need to stop by.

Maybe it was about timing. Maybe it was this feeling that Hotch couldn't kick, that as more time passed, her memory would be lost to them. They'd stop trying. They'd stop remembering. And that wasn't something that Hotch could live with.

He climbed out of the car, making his way down the footpath and crossing the grass until he reached her spot. As he looked over the etching in the stone, he sighed.

EMILY PRENTISS
OCTOBER 12, 1970-MARCH 7, 2011
FIDELITY BRAVERY INTEGRITY

It felt like déjà vu all over again, that's what it was. The same feeling in the pit of his stomach reminding him, as it had before, that he'd lost someone he truly cared for. Someone he relied on. He'd lost a friend.

Hotch sighed as his eyes scanned the etchings on the cold grey stone.

He'd lost the woman he had loved.

Of course, Hotch knew that she wasn't gone forever. He hadn't lost her in the way he had lost Haley. But she was gone, nonetheless. He was struggling to sense her, as he had come to over the past few years. He used to be able to feel when she walked into a room, the hairs on the back of his neck standing straight. He used to be able to feel her with him, even when she was miles away. And now, he felt like that sensation was fading away, he was forgetting what she smelled like, what she looked like... what she felt like.

She had been his rock, the person he confided in, the person he relied on, the person that made him feel brave because she had let him in.

She had allowed herself vulnerable with him… until she wouldn't.

She had allowed herself to trust him… until she didn't.

As his eyes ran back over the last three words on the gravestone, he sighed. Hotch could think of so many words more fitting for the woman they had "buried." While she wasn't really dead, he couldn't help but think about what their team, their family, had lost. They had lost the woman who was a shoulder for so many of them to cry on. She was strong and tender and compassionate and tough. She could, and did, kick unsubs down to the ground, and she could, and did, provide such incredible comfort to victims.

The team had lost someone important… integral… to their well-oiled machine that had managed to heal after the loss of Elle, then Gideon… then JJ. Hotch wasn't sure how much more the team would have to sacrifice before they each gave up the fight. Reid was struggling. Morgan was angry. Rossi was quiet. Garcia was absent.

JJ was the one who had been trying the hardest since Emily had left. She was the only other one who knew that Emily was alive, so there was a comfort in being able to talk about her in the present tense, when they had to be so careful with everyone else in their lives. And JJ was also the only member of the team who had known just how close Emily and Hotch had grown over time. She was the only person who had seen them outside of work, who understood the role that Emily had started to play in Jack's life, who understood how much Hotch trusted her.

But even JJ's efforts had their limits.

As he stared at her gravestone, Hotch thought about the times he'd come before. He hadn't been back in a couple of months, having found another way to feel connected to Emily. But after their case in Lake Worth, Hotch had been feeling a desperate need to come back and see her... speak to her. He'd been triggered by something and he needed to process, and his usual efforts to process Emily's absence weren't working this time around.

Hotch sat down on the bench that overlooked Emily's grave, taking shade in the large maple tree. He leant forward with his knees on his elbows, letting out a sigh as he thought about what he had to say.

"Jack had his soccer game yesterday," Hotch started, staring at her name, "He played really well and after the game, a couple of the parents were talking. Rossi came along to help out with the coaching, and Steph, Fred's mom, asked where you had been lately..." Hotch paused and let out a sigh, "... It was the first time in a while that someone had asked, and I froze. I had no idea what to say."

Hotch raised his eyebrows and dropped his head, "Em, I'm worried about how long this is taking. I'm worried that Jack will forget you. I'm worried that the team will have to move on..." he let out another sigh, shaking his head, "I'm worried that I won't want to stay, if you can't come back."

Hotch bit his lip as he thought about everything that had happened in the months since Emily was whisked away to god knows where... all of the cases, all of the victims who missed out on the comforting presence of Agent Prentiss. Emily's absence on the team was becoming more painful with each passing day, but in a way, he didn't want the pain to go away, because it would suggest that they were all accepting that she was gone. And he couldn't do that, because he missed her.

In his work, and in his life.

Emily had become so much more than just another colleague. She was his friend. In fact, as his mind repeatedly reminded him again and again, he had hoped that she would become more than that. Up until the day she'd left, Hotch had never let his thoughts translate into actions, but his mind had taken him there on more than one occasion. There had been so many opportunities to tell her how he felt, but he had never been able to pluck up the courage to say the words out loud... at least, not while she was awake.

He had spent hours, mostly in the dark hours of the night, wondering what it would be like to spoil her, to hold her… to truly know her. They were the kind of thoughts that required immediate follow-up with a cold shower and a hard slap of reality. The reality that, even without the supervisory boundaries, they were on the same team. And the rules meant everything. Hotch had given up his marriage for his job as Unit Chief. He didn't know if he had it in him to give away the job for a chance at a relationship with Emily. And even though Hotch knew that was just an excuse, it was one of many.

Hotch was terrified of losing someone again.

Hotch was terrified of Jack being hurt because, when things inevitably fell apart, Emily couldn't be around anymore.

Hotch was terrified that he wasn't good enough for Emily, that she would eventually realise that she deserved more than he could give.

What it all came down to was that Hotch was terrified of being hurt.

So in those dark moments that had been coming up with more frequency in recent weeks, when he doubted the words that Emily had written in her letter, he hid behind the rules.

Of course, the rules hadn't been enough to really stop Hotch and Emily from growing closer. She had spent so much time helping him cope after Haley left, and she had stayed even after Hotch had killed Foyet. She had stuck by him during some of the most horrible chapters in his life and had been a bright spark for Jack after he lost his mother. Emily had become the person that Hotch went to for support, for a drink, and for a reminder that he wasn't alone.

She had let him into her life, her home, and had opened up to him in ways he didn't think possible. In fact, before everything had hit the fan, Hotch had suspected that Emily might have felt similarly towards him. When she was still there, she'd only once told him that she loved him, when she had thought he was sleeping. But she'd never said the words to him, at least not when he had a chance to respond.

And Hotch didn't need her to. Emily had shown him how much she cared for him, and for Jack, with her actions. She had made so many meals, shown up on their doorstep with movies and games and books to keep Jack occupied while Hotch broke down. She had made sure to give Jack the affection he needed, to the point that Jack had grown to love her. Most of all, Emily had created a space safe enough for Hotch to fall apart. She had never judged him, never pitied him... she'd just loved him.

In turn, Emily had also grown to trust Hotch enough to let him break down the walls that protected her from the rest of the world. Emily Prentiss was not one to be vulnerable in front of others, but she had allowed Hotch to create a space for her as well, a space where she could cry and yell and hit things. A space where she didn't have to be strong, because Hotch could be strong for both of them.

In her letter to him, Emily had told Hotch that she had loved him, and that she wanted a future with him, whatever that looked like. But Hotch didn't know if she had meant it in the way that he hoped. He still didn't feel like he had that clarity. At first, he had operated under the assumption that, when Emily returned, they would talk about it, find a way to move forward. But as time went on, Hotch saw that dream slipping further and further away.

She had come to him after her friend was murdered. She had leant on him when she felt like her world was crumbling around her. She had come to him when a case or a victim or an unsub burrowed under her skin and she couldn't sleep.

And then she shut him out.

When she could have come to him again, like all those times before, she stayed away. She had hidden from Hotch and the team, gathered her arsenal, and went after the monster on her own. And Hotch wasn't sure if he'd forgiven Emily for that yet. He felt like he was getting there, but if they did have a future ahead of them, the rules of the Bureau were just one of many obstacles they had to overcome. Hotch huffed as he looked over Emily's name again, knowing that in order to work through those obstacles, Emily needed to be sitting next to him. Until then, everything was hypothetical.

Hotch was roused from his thoughts at the sound of footsteps crunching through the leaves on the ground. He looked up, surprised at whose face greeted him. He wasn't sure who he'd been expecting when he'd heard the footsteps, but it definitely wasn't her. Hotch stood, wrinkling his brow as he held out his hand.

"Ambassador Prentiss."

Elizabeth looked up at the stern face of Aaron Hotchner, trying to hide her surprise in finding him here. She had assumed, in the weeks that had passed since her daughter's death, that her friends from the FBI had been visiting the grave. However, she had not expected to find any of them visiting when she was there, especially Agent Hotchner. He was the consummate professional, and always had been, so Elizabeth had never expected him to be sentimental enough to visit her daughter's grave two months after her death. She shook her head of those thoughts, thoughts that could be ruminated on at a later time, when the man in question wasn't standing in front of her.

Holding out a small hand to shake the one he offered, she attempted a smile, but it fell flat. There wasn't much to smile about these days.

"Agent Hotchner," she replied wearily, "I must say I'm surprised to see you here." As she thought about it, Elizabeth knew that surprised was an understatement, but she certainly wasn't going to show more to the serious man in front of her. So she simply smiled sadly and waited for him to respond.

Hotch dropped his gaze to his feet and pushed his hands into his pockets, shrugging, "It's been a while since I came to visit," he explained, noticing the Ambassador's inquisitive expression. He swallowed his throat and shook his head, "Emily was important to me… to the team."

Hotch couldn't suppress the guilt that overwhelmed him as he studied the Ambassador's face. The worry-lines on her forehead more prominent, dark circles under her eyes, her skin more pale than before. She had aged since he last saw her, the grief too much to bear. The loss of her only, and dearly beloved daughter.

Three small words could cure that grief.

Emily is alive.

If only he could tell her. If only he wouldn't jeopardise Emily's safety, or the safety of everyone she loved. Telling anyone outside of the approved circle could be catastrophic, and could result in Doyle resurfacing to finish the job. Hotch couldn't do that to Emily, so he kept his mouth shut.

Elizabeth looked past Hotch as her eyes fell on the headstone. The grass had grown over the grave, and there were new flowers to the side. Amongst the flowers there was a small teddy bear… no doubt from Emily's dear friend, Penelope, who had sent a matching bear to Elizabeth and Simon's home. Held in the bear's paw was a small chess piece, the origin of which Elizabeth wasn't sure.

"I think that's from one of the members of our team, Dr. Reid," Hotch commented, crouching down to clean the grass from the side of the headstone. Emily didn't like a mess, and she wouldn't appreciate her grave – temporary as it might be – being left with grassing growing over it.

Elizabeth watched Hotch tidy the area, fixing up the chess piece so it was once again sitting upright in the bear's paw and clearing away the old flowers to make room for the new ones that Elizabeth had brought with her.

She thought about the funeral, seeing all of these people come together to say farewell to her daughter, and Elizabeth had barely known a single one of them. They all seemed to know each other, however, and Elizabeth had safely deduced that they were team-mates from her work with the Bureau. Aside from Matthew's parents and Emily's family, the attendees were friends and colleagues from Emily's professional life, and it had forced Elizabeth to realise that her daughter's life had been about one thing: her work.

As much as she had loved her daughter, and respected her choices, she was always concerned that Emily had chosen her work over having a normal life.

In fact, Emily had chosen her job over her life.

Stomping down on those bitter thoughts, wanting only to remind herself of all of the amazing things Emily had achieved, Elizabeth stepped past Hotch to run her hand over the cold stone. She crouched down to place the new bouquet of Emily's favourites, hydrangeas, among the others. A tear dropped down her cheek and she reached up to pat it away with her gloved hand. Elizabeth liked to think that she wasn't too sentimental, but she knew that was a lie, and being here, thinking about her beautiful daughter being gone, it broke down every wall that Ambassador Prentiss had built, leaving Elizabeth feeling cold and vulnerable.

Hotch held out a hand to help the Ambassador stand from where she had been crouched, and he studied her face, wondering if there was anything he could say that would express his sorrow at the pain she was feeling. He couldn't think of any words that would comfort him, if it had been his child, but Hotch wondered if something simple would suffice.

"Ambassador," he started, dropping his chin to his chest, "I just wanted to say again, how sorry I am for everything you're going through."

"You have a son, don't you Agent Hotchner?" Elizabeth asked, removing her hand from Hotch's. When he nodded in response, she shook her head, "Well, there's nothing much to say when you lose your child. I only hope it's a grief you never have to experience yourself."

Hotch bit his lip, noting the tone with which the Ambassador spoke. He couldn't think of anything more to say, so he kept his mouth shut. He didn't think her tone was unwarranted, in fact, he agreed with her. The pain she was feeling was his fault. He had seen the signs, Emily pulling away from him and the rest of the team, and he had been so distracted by his feelings towards her that he had misinterpreted those signs. He could have figured it out sooner. He could have made Emily tell him what was going on, but instead, he had delayed and his actions had cost them all so dearly.

They stood in silence for a moment, both turning to look at Emily's name etched in the stone, but the silence was broken when a voice called from behind them.

"Grams!"

Hotch looked over Elizabeth's shoulder and saw a young man, in his twenties and dressed in faded jeans and a Yale hoodie. The young man looked familiar, but Hotch couldn't figure it out. He had thick, black, curly hair and big black eyes that reminded him of…

His thoughts were interrupted when the young man reached them and the Ambassador turned to pull him into a tight hug, saying a name Hotch never expected to hear, and suddenly it dawned on him.

"Zachery," Elizabeth gasped, holding him against her. She sighed and stepped back, looking up at him and smiling proudly, "Didn't I tell you to get a haircut about a month ago?" Elizabeth asked as she ran her fingers through the dark curls.

Zac smiled and rolled his eyes, "I'm sorry… I've had a few things on my mind," he replied, "Moving back, getting my thesis started, and…" his smile disappeared as his eyes dropped to the headstone. He shook his head and looked up at Elizabeth's face, smiling sadly, "But the important thing is that I'm here now."

Zac looked away from Elizabeth and over to Hotch, smiling awkwardly before he turned once more at the small woman in his arms. Although he was concerned about his grandfather, Zac had been most worried about his Grams. She was already small to start off with, but since his mom was killed, she had grown smaller in his eyes. It was like the whole situation had taken the life right out of her. He had been trying to see his grandparents regularly, but life had gotten in the way, and now Zac was kicking himself for not trying harder.

Elizabeth squeezed Zac's arms before stepping back and clearing her throat, "Uh… Zachery, I'd like you to meet Agent Aaron Hotchner," she said, gesturing to Hotch, "Agent Hotchner, this is Zachery Prentiss... my grandson."

Hotch pursed his lips and held out his hand for the young man, shaking it soundly before realisation took over. As his hand dropped back to his side, Hotch couldn't help his eyes growing wide as he took in the information. Ambassador Prentiss only had one child. Emily. Which could only mean...

"It's so great to meet you, Agent Hotchner," Zac started, pushing his hands back in his pockets, "Mom told me so much about you… about all of you…" he paused for a moment and stared at his feet, before looking up at Hotch once again, "She was really proud that she could be a part of the work you guys do."

Hotch blinked rapidly before his mind caught up with the conversation and he realised social convention called for a response, "Well, we were really proud to have known her… she was a remarkable woman."

Zac huffed and nodded, smiling proudly, "She was."

The three stood in silence for a moment, their minds each racing down separate paths.

Elizabeth was overjoyed to see her busy grandson, knowing that he didn't often have time for catching up and grateful that he was making time now that he was back from the North Pacific. He was busy with his work and his life, and while she loved and missed him, she knew she couldn't rely on him to fill in the gap that his mother had left. He was his own person and needed to live his own life.

Zac was stunned to finally meet "The Aaron Hotchner", the man whom his mother had talked about constantly. She'd started off calling him an asshole, but by the end, he had become the man she loved. He had only spoken to Hotch on the phone once, when his mom had a tough case and hadn't been answering his calls, so he had broken her rules and called her boss. Hotch hadn't known who he was then, but as Zac looked at the man in the suit, he realised that Hotch was quickly finding out that Emily Prentiss was an enigma, right to the end.

Hotch was amazed that in all the years he had known Emily Prentiss, loved Emily Prentiss, he still had no idea who she really was. Zac was her son. The Zac whose existence Hotch had been contemplating all this time was her child. Suddenly, Hotch was running through the catalogue of moments he'd shared with Emily and realising that the clues had been there all along.

Elizabeth smiled sadly at her grandson, before clearing her throat and glancing over at Hotch, "We were going to head over to the University for some lunch," she explained, "Would you like to join us Agent Hotchner?"

Hotch wrinkled his brow and glanced between the two Prentiss', before shaking his head, "No… thank you though," he replied, "I was just stopping by after a meeting, but we have a case to get to, so I should be getting back to Quantico."

Elizabeth nodded, "Where are you heading?" she asked, thinking about all of the times that she had asked Emily the same question. Sometimes she could answer, sometimes she couldn't, but every time she asked the question, Elizabeth had made sure to tell Emily to be safe, and to come home. And that ritual had worked in their favour... until it hadn't.

"North Carolina," Hotch replied, "Hopefully it will be a short trip."

Elizabeth nodded again, aware that Hotch couldn't tell her any more than he already had. Then, much to Hotch's surprise, Elizabeth leant forward and pulled him into an awkward hug. Hotch squeezed the small woman gently before taking a step back. He held a hand out to Zac and smiled sadly as they shook, "It was nice to meet you, Zac."

Zac nodded, "You too, Agent Hotchner," he replied, knowing that his mom had given him permission to seek this man out, and now that he was here, Zac was desperate to ask all of the questions he'd been compiling since he'd read her letter. Looking down to his grandmother, Zac knew this wasn't the time to ask.

With one last look at Emily's grave, Hotch turned and made his way back to the sedan. As he pushed the key into the ignition, Hotch looked out the windscreen, at the Ambassador and Zac standing by the grave. His eyes grew wide as he processed this news.

Emily had a child... Hotch shook his head... Emily had an adult son. Everything he thought he knew about her flew right out the window and he began to question every interaction he'd had with her in the last five years. Did he know her at all? Why had she kept her son a secret? What did this mean for them all moving forward? Hotch thought about the list of questions he'd started compiling when he had read Emily's letter to him, and now he knew he'd be adding these to the list.

Hotch looked down when his cell began to buzz, and he found a text message from Rossi... the team were ready for the briefing and they needed him back at the office. He sent a quick text back and, with one final look at Zac and the Ambassador, he flicked on the indicator and turned the car onto the driveway.

Zac wrapped a long arm around his grandmother's shoulders and squeezed, "I'm thinking… Rooftop Terrace for lunch, if that's ok?"

Elizabeth smiled and nodded, tucking her head into Zac's shoulder as they walked across the lawn towards her waiting town car, "That sounds lovely," she replied.

As he helped Elizabeth into the car, Zac looked up and watched Agent Hotchner's sedan as it disappeared through the cemetery gates. He thought about his mother's letter and wondered if this was a sign to follow her directions. She had told him that Hotch would have the answers he needed, about why she was gone. She had given him permission to ask, but he had yet to go through with it.

Zac sighed, climbing into the back seat next to his grandmother and squeezing her hand as the town car pulled away.

It was time for a visit to Quantico.