Chapter 3: The Riddle (song of same title, by Five for Fighting)

Zac pushed the apartment door open, running his hand through his hair as he made his way inside. He pulled the ear buds out of his ears and unplugged them from his iPod, leaving the device and his keys on the entry table. He hit the button to check his messages while he kicked off his shoes.

"Hi Zac. It's uh… Aaron. Just confirming I'm back in town, if you still want to come around for pizza. Anytime after 5 is fine. Address is 350 I Street South West, apartment 4b."

Zac grabbed the pen and notepad by the phone and jotted down the address, before he turned back to clean up after his run. It had been exactly what Zac had needed, getting out and enjoying the fresh air and sunshine. The weather was getting warmer, which Zac appreciated after acclimatising to the constantly temperate weather in Palau, and it felt nice to get his body moving. Running had always been a place of comfort for him, running until his legs stopped working was how he got through the stress of his entire undergraduate degree. And the last few months had been the most stressful in his life, so his running had become a daily occurrence, taking him out of his head as soon as his feet hit the sidewalk.

But now he needed a shower.

Zac walked into the bathroom and started the hot water, stripping down and stepping into the cubicle. As the hot water ran over his body, he wondered if he could prepare himself at all for this upcoming conversation with his mom's friend. His mom had always tried to protect him from the details of her work, but Zac had always figured that her keeping him a secret suggested that the details were not pleasant. As he got older, Zac had started to research it all himself, watching videos of Hotch and the other members of the BAU in press conferences and looking up the news articles for crimes in the cities his mom had visited. While he was, undoubtedly, in store for some unpleasant details about his mom's work, Zac was actually more concerned about how much of a fight Hotch would give him.

Zac huffed as he rinsed the shampoo out of his hair. He still wasn't sure what to call his mom's friend. She'd always referred to him as Hotch when speaking with Zac, and he'd asked Zac to call him Hotch or Aaron. Aaron made sense, given that Hotch seemed to be more for work situations, and it was always how his mom had differentiated between the two. Zac shook his head... what to call the guy was the least of his concerns.

As he climbed out of the shower, Zac reached for a clean towel and wrapped it around his waist, heading back into the hall and walking into his bedroom. He grabbed a clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt out of the closet and threw them on the bed. Once he was adequately dressed, Zac checked his watch, realising he still had a couple of hours before he needed to head to Hotch's.

He made his way into the living room, grabbing the remote from the coffee table and turning the TV on, before he headed into the kitchen to pour a glass of water. He flicked through the channels until he found one he could relax to. It was a movie he'd seen a hundred times before, so he didn't really need to pay attention to it. He was more just needing some white noise in the background.

Just as he sat down on the couch, laptop in hand, there was a knock at the door. Zac sighed and stood from the couch, making his way down the hall to the front door.

As he stooped down to check the peephole, Zac wrinkled his brow, pulling the door open and smiling nervously.

"JJ, right?" he asked, holding a hand up to gesture for his guest to enter the apartment.

JJ nodded and smiled, "Hi Zac," she said softly as she stepped through the door, carrying a large archive box. She placed it on the floor, just inside the apartment, then turned back to lift another box, carrying it inside with her as Zac closed the door.

"Uh… what's all this?" Zac asked, pointing down to the box on the floor.

"You mentioned on the phone that you couldn't find any of your family photos," JJ explained, "Your mom gave me these boxes to look after, so I figured this might help... there's also a crate of toys in my trunk that I believe belong to you."

Zac squatted down by one of the boxes, opening the lid and smiling, "Oh my god," he said, covering his mouth with his hand and opening the front cover of the top album, revealing the photo of him and his mom on his first day on Earth. He stood from the box and turned to JJ, pulling her into a tight hug, "You have no idea what this means."

JJ chuckled against Zac's shoulder, her arms around his waist, "You're welcome, Zac," she replied, smiling the same way she always had when Emily had hugged her. There was no doubt that Zac was Emily's kid... the similarities were spooky.

As they pulled back, Zac tipped his head down the hall, "Can I get you a cup of coffee or tea?" he asked, "Or maybe a beer?"

JJ nodded, following him down the hall, "Sure. A coffee would be great, thanks."

Zac led JJ into the kitchen, taking the ground and a filter out of the cabinet above the coffee machine, and as he put it all together and flicked the machine on, JJ leant back against the opposite counter.

"So what's new with you?" Zac asked, turning back as the coffee filtered through the machine, "Or can you not say?"

JJ chuckled and shrugged, "I can't really say," she responded, "But it's been busy… How about you? Are you settling in here?"

Zac nodded, "Yeah, I guess so…" he paused and shrugged, turning back to get a couple of mugs out of the cabinet, "It's a little weird to be here without Mom, but I suppose I'm getting used to it."

Accepting a mug from Zac and following him into the living room, JJ furrowed her brow, "Is there anything you need?" she asked, "Anything that you think might help with the process?"

Zac shook his head and took a sip of the coffee, "I don't think so," he replied, "I'm uh… I'm meeting up with Aaron later this afternoon. He's agreed to tell me what happened."

"Oh... wait... Aaron Hotchner?" JJ asked, raising her eyebrows at Zac's nod, "That's really nice of him." JJ had been trying hard to avoid answering any of Zac's questions about his mom's death, but thankfully he hadn't asked her at all. She did wonder what Hotch was planning on telling him though, given the limitations on what the could reveal to others about Emily's situation.

"That letter you gave me, from Mom," Zac explained, "She told me to ask Aaron about what happened, so I visited him at Quantico a couple of days ago."

JJ nodded, realising that must have been the same day she'd gone to visit Garcia. Now things were adding up, and more of it was making sense. She wondered if she should reach out to Hotch, to make sure they got their stories straight before Zac asked her any questions. She made a mental note to invite him around for dinner soon so they could hash out the details. In the meantime, she would keep checking in on Zac, as per Emily's request. Taking care of Emily's son now prioritised almost as high as taking care of her own son, at least until Emily could return safely.

"So while you're here," Zac continued, "Did you want to see some family photos? I mean… now that you know I exist, there's no sense in hiding, right?"

JJ smiled and nodded, "I'd love to. We've only seen one photo of your Mom from when she was a teenager, and let's just say… it's… uh… enlightening."

Zac chuckled, "I can only imagine," he replied, standing and walking down the hall. He lifted the first box and brought it into the living room, placing it on the coffee table.

"Shall we start at the very beginning?" Zac asked, taking out the album from when he was still a baby, opening the front cover and smiling at his mom's young face.

Zac looked down at the slip of paper in his hand, then back up at the number on the building, confirming that he had the right one. He was sure his mom had never mentioned how close she lived to Aaron and Jack, but it had turned out to be a convenient choice. It had only taken him about ten minutes to walk there.

He made his way through the front door, smiling at the doorman, and checked the numbers on the apartment doors as he made his way down the hall. When he reached 4b, Zac reached up and tapped a few times, adjusting the bag in his hand. As the door opened, he looked up and smiled.

"Hi Zac," Hotch said, a gentle smile on his face, "Come on in." He stood back, gesturing to the apartment, and Zac made his way through the door, Hotch closing it behind them and latching the chain.

Zac held up the small bag he had in his hand, "I know you said I didn't have to bring anything, but I couldn't help it… Mom told me never to show up to someone else's house empty-handed."

Hotch chuckled and nodded, taking the bag in his hand, "Thanks," he replied, gesturing to the couch and holding up the beer, "Take a seat and I'll put these in the fridge."

Zac nodded, heading over to take a seat on the couch while Hotch walked back into the kitchen. He took the chance to look around the room, noting the bookshelves and toys. He furrowed his brow when he recognised a couple of the toys and made a note to ask Hotch about them. He heard footsteps and soon, a bottle of Miller beer appeared by his shoulder.

"Thanks," Zac said softly, waiting for Hotch to sit down in the armchair across the coffee table before he opened his beer and took a sip.

"So, Yale?" Hotch asked, cracking open his own beer and sipping as he watched Zac intently. There were so many similarities between Zac and Emily, and it was all a little off-putting. The way Zac held himself, the dimples in his cheeks, his dark eyes… they all reminded Hotch so much of Emily, and in many ways, it made him miss her even more.

Zac wrinkled his brow, then looked down at his sweatshirt and chuckled, "Oh… huh. I forgot I was wearing this." He paused then cleared his throat, "Uh… I did my undergrad there. Prentiss' have been going there for four generations."

Hotch huffed and nodded, "Family obligation hey?" he asked.

Zac shrugged and smiled, "You could say that I guess… but their program is pretty good and they've got some of the best professors in the world."

Hotch chuckled and took a swig of his beer, "So what are you up to now? I assume you're not still at Yale," he asked.

Zac shook his head and sighed, "I finished my Masters at Cal-Tech in December, then did an assignment with the WHO in the North Pacific," he explained, "And now I'm starting my PhD in Microbiology and Immunology at GWU."

Hotch raised his eyebrows and nodded, "That's ambitious," he replied, distracted by his own thoughts for another moment. More things started to make sense to him now, with Zac's most recent admission making Hotch realise that the trip that had taken Emily to LA while Hotch and Jack were in Martha's Vineyard was for Zac's graduation. Every time he talked with this kid, Hotch was able to piece together parts of his history with Emily, and he realised how many clues he'd missed.

Zac raised an eyebrow and shot Hotch an incredulous look, "Did you ever meet my mother? Emily Prentiss… one of the most intelligent people in the known universe."

Hotch huffed and nodded, his eyes glazing over as his mind carried him away, to places he hadn't been in months. He hadn't allowed himself to think of Emily too much since that fateful night in March. It was dangerous territory, and he couldn't imagine where it would lead. One thought every now and then was ok., but to start to think of her on a regular basis could be catastrophic. It could lead him to do things he really shouldn't. Like hunt down Ian Doyle and put a bullet through his forehead. Or tell her son that his mother was alive.

Hotch was broken from his thoughts when Zac cleared his throat. He looked up and saw the young man watching him with that same look of curiosity and understanding that Emily had. How he missed that look, even if he did see it every night in his dreams.

"So, I don't mean to harass you about it but… speaking of Mom…" Zac prompted.

Hotch sighed and nodded. He'd made a promise, and he was a man of his word. And when it came down to it, he owed it to this young man to tell him the truth. Or at least the version of the truth that was known to the rest of the world. He took a moment to gather his thoughts and do a quick run-down of the script he'd learnt so well.

"What do you know about the work that your mom did before she came to the BAU?" Hotch asked, wondering how much this young man already knew about his own mother.

With a wrinkled brow and a beating heart, Zac thought for a moment, "Well… I know she was with the State Department from 92 and did a few years there before she started at the FBI Academy. She started as a rookie in 96 and we lived in St Louis first," he explained, "And we moved to Chicago when I was in Middle School, up until 2000 when she moved to London with the State Department again. I lived with Grams and Pops for a few years, and I can remember visiting her in Rome one summer…"

Zac paused and shrugged, "... Those few years were pretty dark, I didn't hear from her that much, but at least at that point, I was old enough to know why. And then she came back to the States and was at the Baltimore Field Office until she started at the BAU."

Hotch nodded, knowing Emily's resume and that, for the most part, Zac had it all right. But there were some key pieces missing… pieces that Emily had now given Hotch permission to share. He took a sip of his beer and then took a deep breath.

"Well, that's almost all true," he started, looking up at Zac.

Zac wrinkled his brow, "What do you mean?" he asked, staring at Hotch intently.

Hotch sat forward in the armchair and put his beer down on the table. He rubbed his hands together and sighed, "Your mom's posting in London, it wasn't with State." Hotch looked up to check that Zac was following. Based on the impatient look on his face, Hotch assumed that he hadn't caught up just yet, so Hotch continued.

He cleared his throat, "Emily was tasked by Interpol to work on a specialist team," he explained, "I can't give you too much detail… in fact, what I've told you already might be too much… but she worked on profiling terrorists."

Hotch paused, giving Zac a minute to absorb what he'd been told so far, and to give himself a minute to think of what to say next. He waited for Zac to nod, before he continued with his explanation.

"The last case she worked with that team," Hotch shook his head and looked down at his hands, "It became personal." Hotch's voice caught in his throat as he ran his mind over the months that Emily had distanced herself from him because of Doyle, only for her to be almost killed by the bastard.

"What do you mean, personal?" Zac asked, "And if you're worried, I have second-tier clearance for my work at Fort Detrick," he explained.

Hotch looked up, straight at Zac, and sighed. Since he couldn't hide behind the clearance excuse, he went ahead with his explanation.

"One of the cases that Emily and her team worked on involved her going undercover. She infiltrated a clandestine terrorist organisation and she was responsible for making contact with one of the key figures, and providing a profile on him," Hotch explained, "She had to gather information that would help lead to his arrest, and information that would help with his interrogation once he was in custody."

"Was it his people that did this to Mom?" Zac asked, frowning as he picked at the label on his beer.

Hotch shook his head, "The man that Emily had profiled escaped from prison a few months ago and he came after her," he replied, "In order to get her attention, he targeted other people involved in his arrest and interrogation, and he started to take out their families."

Zac closed his eyes and dropped his head, feeling a tear drop down his face. It was all becoming clear, his mom's enthusiasm with his plans to move to Palau, her hesitation in coming to visit, her increasing distance from him.

One of the monsters she'd been afraid of had finally come after her.

"Mom was so excited when I told her that I was moving to Palau," Zac explained, "She practically dragged me to the airport to fly out, and she was acting weird about video-chatting with me every time I asked."

Hotch nodded and smiled sadly, "Your mom was protecting you, Zac. She didn't want him coming after you as well," he paused and shook his head, "This was her following through on what she'd always done. Protecting you from the monsters."

"So what happened?" Zac asked, shaking his head and standing from the couch. He turned back to Hotch, "This guy… this criminal… he found her and killed her?"

Hotch sat back in his seat and shook his head, "No. That's not quite the whole story…" he paused and took note of Zac's body language, "… Why don't we take a break? It's a lot to take in at once and we've got time."

Zac shook his head and put his hands on his hips, "No, Aaron. I need to hear it all," he replied sternly. He needed to know why his mom had died. He needed to know what was being done to punish the man responsible. There had to be some kind of consequence for his mom's murder.

Hotch paused for a moment, studying Zac's face and body language and wondering if he should listen to his gut, or listen to Emily's son. He thought about what Emily would do, if she'd believe that her son knew that he was ready for this kind of information. Hotch watch Zac, the serious look in his eyes and the insistent way in which he was standing, and Hotch decided to trust Zac.

"Before you continue," Zac started, reaching into his pocket and taking out a folded piece of paper and handing it to Hotch, "These are the questions that I need answers to, more than anything else."

Hotch unfolded the paper and furrowed his brow, perusing the list of questions and wondering what he could share with Zac. He grabbed a pen from the side table and marked an 'x' next to the questions that he would be allowed to answer, at least as far as it pertained to the parts of the story that were public knowledge.

1. What was the name of the person who killed Mom?

2. How long before she died did she know it was a possibility that they'd find her?

3. Is the person who killed her dead? If not, why the hell not?

4. Why didn't she tell me about all of this when she was still alive?

"Ok Zac," Hotch said softly, "I'll do my best to answer these questions for you, but you need to promise me something."

"Anything," Zac replied, sitting back down on the couch.

"Tell me when you've had enough," Hotch said softly, "When you've actually had enough, no later."

Zac sighed and nodded, "Ok."

Hotch nodded, looking down at the piece of paper, "I can't tell you who it was," Hotch explained, "But I can tell you the answers to a few of these questions. How about we start with number four? Why didn't she tell you about it?"

Zac nodded and sat back against the couch cushions, picking up his beer again and taking a sip as Hotch started his answer.

Hotch sat down on the edge of his bed and sighed, leaning forward with his knees on his elbows. Zac had left twenty minutes earlier, and now that Hotch had the apartment to himself once more, he realised how quiet it was. He stood from the bed, walking over to the dresser on the opposite wall and pressing play on the CD player. As the music started, Hotch nodded, walking back towards the bed and taking his pyjamas out from under the pillow. Hotch made quick work of changing for bed, and sat back down on the covers, sliding back and resting his head on the headboard.

Hotch looked to the bedside table and smiled softly, picking up his Emily candle and the lighter he kept on his bedside table. Once he had lit the candle, he set it down on the bedside table and stared at the flame.

"Your son, Em..." Hotch paused and huffed, "... I don't even know where to start with him. You've raised an incredible kid."

Hotch lay down, bringing his hands up to rest behind his head and staring at the ceiling as he inhaled the scent of cherry blossoms.

"I told him as much as I could. I tried to think about what you would do in this situation, if you had to talk to Jack... if something had happened to me. And it helped. I think he feels like he can move forward. He's like you... he needed to know the truth before he could start to heal."

Hotch huffed, remembering something that Zac had done during the visit that had been the most palpable reminder of Emily.

"He's copied your tell, Em," Hotch said softly, glancing over at the candle, "He does the same thing you do, when he touches the tip of his lip with his tongue and lets out a puff of air. I've never seen anyone else do that, and here Zac is..." Hotch paused and shook his head, feeling tears well in his eyes, "... it makes me miss you even more."

Hotch reached up to wipe the tears that had started to fall down his cheek. He sighed, staring up at the ceiling and imagining what it would be like if Emily was there with him. The two of them, lying in bed next to each other, debriefing from their days and comforting each other, guiding the other through the pain and stress that was a natural by-product of their work. He imagined Emily cuddled into his side, her head on his chest. He imagined running his fingers through her hair as she lay a hand on his belly.

Hotch still had occasional doubts about moving forward with Emily, but those doubts were gradually being drowned out by his growing hope. He just wanted her here so they could work through those doubts together. What would they do about their work? What would they do about their kids?

The bottom line that Hotch wanted to know was whether Emily's letter, where she told him she loved him, was about wanting a future together as a family, or wanting to stay friends. He could assume what she wanted, but one of Hotch's permanent frustrations in the current situation was that Emily was somewhere else in the world. Hotch didn't even get to know where she was, and it was driving him crazy not being able to know, and not being able to talk to her. Until this was all over, Hotch felt like he would be in a state of limbo, suspecting that he had a future waiting for him, with the woman he loved, but never really knowing.

Hotch sat up on the edge of the bed and stared at the candle for a moment, before he reached out to pick it up. As he blew out the candle, Hotch imagined Emily's face and his heart warmed at the dark of her eyes, framed by her thick eyelashes. He took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before he let it out, placing the candle back on the bedside table. As he climbed under the covers and lay back down on his pillow, Hotch looked to the ceiling and smiled softly.

"Goodnight Emily."