A/N: Thanks to everyone who's reviewing/favouriting/following (special shout-out to Vickyvicky890 + Kathlyn4060 + Southunlady)! I really enjoy writing and feel like it's a great outlet, and the fact that you're all responding is just lovely. Please keep reviewing!

Chapter 4: Birds and Ships (song of same title, by Natalie Merchant)

Hotch sat back in the couch and sighed at the peace and quiet. A miracle in his house, especially since spring had sprung and Jack had been harassing Hotch for a daily visit to the park. Bike rides, kicking the soccer ball around, and chasing butterflies were activities that kept Jack busy, and tired him out. Hotch was starting to wonder if he should look more seriously at a place with a little more room, and maybe even a yard. He couldn't imagine moving out of DC, especially since Jack was so settled at his school, but maybe he could look at a condo. It might help him and Jack to have a little bit of space.

Today however, with his best friend's birthday party and sleepover, Hotch would have the whole apartment to himself.

He'd started, rather sadly, with a couple of loads of laundry, followed by making up some meals to freeze for the week. While Jessica always insisted that she was happy to cook for Jack when Hotch had to be out of town, he always tried to freeze a couple of meals for those emergency situations. Like those inevitable times when Jessica was exhausted from chasing after her fireball nephew and couldn't be bothered cooking. Something packed with veggies, but able to be frozen, was just the ticket for those moments, and it made Hotch feel better to know he could help out from a distance.

The rest of the afternoon had been spent cleaning. Hotch had tidied the bathroom, cleaned the kitchen, and put away the plethora of toys that managed to find their way out of Jack's bedroom and into the main living areas. While he was tidying up the toys, Hotch had found Jack's two most prized possessions tucked in behind the pillow on his bed.

Optimus Prime and He-Man, watching over him as always... just as Emily had promised. The sight of the toys took Hotch back to his conversations with Zac, and he wondered if he should offer to give Zac the toys back. It would probably break Jack's heart, but maybe the toys meant something to Zac as well.

Hotch sighed as he glanced down at his watch, it had just hit eleven, and he realised that he had run out of things to do to distract himself. There was nothing left to occupy his mind. Jack would be well taken-care-of at Caleb's house until the following afternoon, and while Hotch knew he should take full advantage of it, he worried that slowing down meant thinking.

He dropped onto the couch, deciding that the six-pack of beer could wait until a more civilised hour, as could the pizza he was planning to order, but the backlog of TV shows he'd been saving on the Tivo were calling his name. Picking up the remote, he flicked on the television and found the right channel, settling back into the seat. Hotch lifted his feet up onto the couch and took in the soothing sounds of the renovation show that had been his and Emily's favourite.

"It's me."

Hotch closed his eyes in dread when he heard the words come out of her mouth. Surely, his ears were playing tricks on him again and he hadn't just heard Emily offer herself up to this monster, to save Reid. Much to his dismay, his worst nightmare was about to come true, as he heard the sounds of Emily being dragged along the floor.

"I told you not to put me into this position."

The slap of Cyrus' hand against Emily's face rang in Hotch's ears, his heart breaking at the sound. A boot to the gut… and all he could do was listen.

"We've gotta go in," Hotch said sternly, looking to Rossi for reassurance, but getting none.

"We'd be risking the lives of everyone in there," Rossi replied, shaking his head and knowing full well the pain that his friend was going through, but being certain that many more would die if they acted on impulse and rushed into the compound.

Hotch's head hung low, his pulse practically bursting through his skin as he listened to the glass shatter and Cyrus misquote scripture.

"I can take it."

Hotch sat up suddenly, waking from his sleep and interrupting his dreams of Emily. He let out a deep breath, glancing back at the clock on the opposite wall.

Two o'clock.

He ran his hands down his face, stubble already emerging from his chin as he sighed, realising that he'd just had a close to three hour nap. His shirt was sweaty and his heart was beating fast. It had been more than two years since that day and he could still remember it like it was yesterday. He was so angry with Emily at first, for risking her own life to protect Reid. But as Hotch had thought about it more, he knew that was just who Emily was. It was who all of them were. He was constantly putting himself into high risk situations, and Emily "died" protecting the team and her family. It was the example they both set – that they would do whatever they could, no matter the cost to themselves.

And now, Emily was somewhere out there, with no back-up from her team, no contact with her family, in order to keep those very people safe.

A knock sounded at the door and Hotch jumped, wondering if that's what had woken him up. He pushed himself up from the couch and ambled over to the door, peeking through the peephole and huffing at the distorted picture of Zac. He stood back, unlatching the chain and opening the door.

"Hi Zac," Hotch said, gesturing for Zac to step inside, "Come in." He watched as the young man walked through the opening, carrying a small box. Hotch shut the door behind them and gestured for Zac to move into the living room, Zac taking a seat on the couch while Hotch sat in his armchair.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Aaron," Zac sighed, holding out the small box and smiling awkwardly, "I just wanted to come by and thank you for what you did the other night."

Hotch returned the smile and took the box that Zac was holding out, "You didn't have to, Zac," Hotch insisted, "You deserve to know what happened."

Zac shrugged, "I know that, but you could have just told me the bare minimum, or made up a story, or just told me to insist that Grams and Pop's version was the truth…" Zac paused and smiled, "But you didn't. You were honest and you told me, and now I know."

Hotch swallowed hard over the lump in his throat and ran a hand through his hair, "In any case, thanks for the gift." He opened the box and couldn't help the chuckle that escaped, "I've seen this before… when your mom tried to quit the BAU. I persuaded her to stay and she ended up with a 2x4 to the head. And she thanked me."

Zac chuckled and nodded, "It's a Prentiss thing… well… not so much Grams, but Pop and Mom did it all the time when I was growing up," he explained, "The hardest part is getting the M&M's to stay on top of the cookie and not sink while they bake."

Hotch admired the large cookie, baked with the words "Thank You" written across it in candy, "Well, I think you did your mom proud… it seems the tradition has been successfully passed onto the next generation of Prentiss'," he huffed, "Well done."

Zac tapped his hands on his knees, "Well… I'd better let you get back to your afternoon," he said, "Thanks again Aaron."

Hotch tipped his head towards the television and raised his eyebrows, "I was actually planning on watching the Celtics game…" Hotch paused, "Did you want to stay?"

Zac smiled widely and nodded, "I was just going to get some work done, but yeah… that'd be great," he replied, "And if the Celtics win, I buy pizza. Knicks win, you buy?"

Hotch held out his hand and the two men shook, "Get ready to pay up, my friend."

Zac held up his hands, cheering as loud as his voice would allow, "Come on Carmelo!" he shouted. As the ball popped through the hoop, Zac cheered even louder, making Hotch chuckle at his enthusiasm.

Hotch sat back, shaking his head and sighing deeply, realising that his team had let him down. He stood from the couch and moved over to the entry table, picking up the phone from the base unit and dialling the number. After Hotch gave his address, he handed the phone over to Zac.

"Here you go," he said, "Order anything you want… and a pepperoni."

Zac chuckled and sat back on the couch, taking the phone from Hotch's hand, "Hi. I'd like a large pepperoni and a large mushroom and sausage with barbecue sauce," he explained to the person on the other end of the line, "Thanks."

After ending the call, Zac sat up and looked back at Hotch who was standing in the kitchen, "I wonder if Pizza Hut delivers those giant foam fingers too… or maybe a crown?"

Hotch rolled his eyes, turning back to the fridge, "Would you like a beer, Mr Humility?" he asked with a chuckle.

Zac smiled and nodded, "Yes please," he replied, turning back to the living room and spotting some photos on the bookcase in the corner. Zac stood from the couch and made his way over to get a closer look, finding photos of Jack through the years.

"So where's uh… Jack… is it?" he asked over his shoulder.

Hotch nodded making his way back to the living room and handing Zac a beer, "He's at a birthday party tonight, a sleepover," he replied, "It's his first one, so I'm half expecting a late-night call from him asking me to pick him up."

Zac turned back to the photos, taking a sip of his beer, "I don't know how long it's been since you've been to a sleepover, but I still remember my first one… we stayed up all night, watching scary movies, and playing practical jokes on the ones who fell asleep first."

Hotch huffed, "Well… they're only five, so I think they'll probably just watch some movies, giggle in their sleeping bags, and fall asleep eventually…" he paused and shrugged, "… either way, I'm just glad that Jack was up for it. The last couple of years have been pretty hard on him."

Zac furrowed his brow, reaching over to pick up one of the framed photos on the shelf, running his thumb over his mom's face. They were at the park and his mom had Jack on her shoulders, both of them laughing with their hands joined and their arms out-stretched.

Hotch watched Zac look at the photo, knowing exactly which one he had picked up. Jack liked to keep that photo at his height on the shelf, right where he kept his favourite books. It was nice to know that Jack had found a way to keep Emily with him, now that she was gone.

Zac put the photo back in its place, turning back to face Hotch. His chest felt tight and a bubble started to form in his stomach, so he took a deep breath, touching his tongue to his top lip and letting out a puff of air. He nodded and furrowed his brow, "Mom told me about… I mean…" Zac's voice trailed off, not knowing where to end that particular sentence.

Hotch held up a hand and shook his head, noticing again that Zac did the same thing as Emily when he was trying to suppress his emotions, "It's fine... I mean, it's not fine but, you know," he assured Zac, "We've had a rough couple of years, but he's adjusted well…" Hotch paused for a moment, "… I don't know if she told you this, but your mom was a big help when Jack's mom died."

Zac nodded, "She told me she helped you out a bit," he replied.

Hotch huffed, "She did a lot more than a bit," Hotch replied, "She came around almost every day to check on us, made us comfort pesto, babysat Jack while I went to the lawyers and the school and the realtor… she went above and beyond…" Hotch shook his head, "And she never stopped. A couple of months ago was the anniversary, and she leant us your family's beach house and… god… she did so much for us."

Zac huffed and sat back in his seat, "How did you explain it all to Jack? With what happened to his mom, I mean."

Hotch paused, thinking back to that day, "I was honest with him. I told him that Mommy had gone to heaven, and that he wouldn't see her anymore…" Hotch paused, "… I know it hurt him initially, but that was a hurt I couldn't save him from – no matter how hard I tried – so I figured the truth was the best thing for him."

Zac nodded, holding up his beer, "Well, you've got two sons here who lost their mothers, who appreciate the truths you had to tell them."

Hotch huffed, holding up his own beer and offering Zac a smile. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say any more there was a knock at the door.

"You ready to pay dirt, old man?" Zac teased, laughing when Hotch tossed a cushion at his head before he headed to the door, wallet in hand.

As he opened the door, Hotch chuckled, taking the pizzas and handing over the cash before he turned back to the apartment and kicked the door closed.

"You call me old man again and I may need to show you a couple of moves I learned at the Academy," Hotch teased, placing the pizzas on the coffee table and heading into the kitchen to get the paper towel.

"You do know that my mom was Emily Prentiss… and my grandfather was Simon Prentiss," Zac retorted, "I doubt you have any moves I haven't already seen."

Zac tapped away at his laptop, adding his most recent data to his configurations and sighing... one step closer to proving some of the conclusions he'd been talking about with his supervisor… one step closer to consolidating his thesis.

Zac reached over to pick up his mug, frowning when he realised there was no coffee left... always a disappointment on these days spent behind a computer screen. He stood from the dining table, rubbing his belly as he made his way through the door to the kitchen, wondering if he should throw some food in while he was up, ultimately deciding against it at the thought of the effort involved. The coffee pot was empty, and he started the steps to make a fresh pot, shaking the grind into the filter and pressing the start button. He held his mug under the dispenser and waited until it filled before he swapped it out for the decanter, and with his fresh coffee, he headed back into the dining room.

As he stepped through the door, Zac stopped in his tracks and stared at his computer. He shook his head, deciding that he needed to take a break from his work. His brain felt like absolute mush.

Zac looked back over his shoulder and nodded, heading back through the kitchen and into his mom's room, making his way over to the window and opening it. He rested the coffee mug on the fire escape before he climbed through himself, then headed up the stairs and onto the roof.

Zac set up one of the chairs and took a seat, lifting his feet to rest on the wall as he watched over the neighbourhood. It was still relatively early in the day, so the busyness of the street below provided some entertainment. Professionals In their suits, walking briskly down the street. Taxis coming and going. The occasional mid-morning runners and cyclists.

As he lay his head back against the seat and took a sip of his coffee, Zac marvelled at the feeling of the sun on his skin. He'd spent too long inside over the past few days, and really needed to take some time out in nature. Maybe he could go for a hike on the weekend, hit up Rock Creek Park and get out into nature. It was definitely something he had been missing since returning from Palau.

Life on the islands had been full of nature – scuba diving on countless reefs, visits to Jellyfish Lake, and climbing rock formations that jutted into the ocean. Even when Zac was working, flying out to the outer islands to facilitate vaccination services and health programs, he spent so much of his time sitting under coconut trees and getting sand between his toes while he chatted with members of the communities.

Zac's mind started wandering so far down that path he was afraid he might just tempt himself to run back to Palau. Leave the stress of his PhD, his work, and his mom's death behind. Live the simple life. He could teach scuba diving or start an island tour business, or maybe he could teach science at the high school. He huffed at the thought, knowing that it would never happen, but it was a nice dream.

Zac stood from his seat, folding the chair and leaning it back against the wall where he kept it. He headed back down the fire escape and climbed back through the window, closing it behind him. Just as he rounded the corner into the kitchen, Zac heard a noise at the front door.

He made his way to the door of the kitchen, peeking around the corner and watching as the lock on the front door began to turn. He reached into the cup of utensils to grab something he could use as a weapon, holding it up in the air. He watched the door intently and waited until the door started to open.

"Who the hell are you?" Zac shouted at the intruder, "And how did you get a key?"

Clyde raised his eyebrows, "Who the hell are you?" he asked, ignoring Zac's questions, "And what do you think you're going to do with that?"

Zac looked at his left hand, holding up a metal ladle, and brought it back down, tossing it onto the dining table as he moved into the dining room. He stopped at the other end of the long entry hall, crossing his arms against his chest.

"And I repeat," Zac said sternly, "Who the hell are you?"

Clyde shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, "I'm a friend of Emily Prentiss," he replied, nodding to Zac, "Now it's your turn."

Zac furrowed his brow. There was something about this guy that he didn't trust, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He cleared his throat, "I'm a friend of Emily's too," he said, "Emily's parents asked me to stay here until they could figure out what to do with the place."

Clyde raised his eyebrows and nodded, "Well, since we're both her friends, I guess names might be helpful…" he paused and tipped his head, "… my name is Clyde… Clyde Easter."

Zac bit his lip, "I'm Zac," he replied, keeping his arms folded, "So how did you get a key?" he asked.

"Emily gave it to me before she…" Clyde shook his head, "… I'm trying to find information about the man who killed her, and I thought I might be able to find something here that the FBI missed."

Zac nodded, "Well… seeing as this is about Emily, I think her parents should be the one to decide who comes in and out of her home…" he paused, "… Before you start digging around in her things, I'd really prefer to check with them if they're ok with it."

Clyde nodded, taking out a business card from his pocket and placing it on the entry table, "Fair enough," he replied, "I have to fly out to London again soon, but I'll wait until I hear back from you…" he paused and furrowed his brow, "You didn't mention how you and Emily became friends."

Zac shrugged, "She knew my grandparents," he replied, impressed with himself for being able to come up with something on the spot that wasn't technically a lie, "I'll uh… I'll have to call you when I get an answer from Emily's parents, Mr Easter."

Clyde nodded, gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb, "I'll wait to hear from you, Zac."

Zac watched as the strange man left the apartment. At the sound of the door closing, Zac walked quickly down the hallway and latched the chain. He checked the peephole, grateful to find the exterior hallway empty. He walked quickly, back to the dining table and picked up his cell, dialling her number and waiting for her to pick up his call.

"Hey Zac," JJ said brightly, "Is everything alright?"

Zac sighed, "Uh… I just had a visitor… Clyde Easter," he explained, "Do you know him?"

"He came to the apartment?" JJ asked, biting her lip. She rolled her eyes, knowing that she'd have to flag this with Hotch. Clyde digging around Zac would only cause trouble, and they couldn't afford to have Zac asking questions... or Clyde.

"Yeah, he had a key!" Zac replied, "I'm kind of freaking out here… what if he's been here before?"

"It's ok, Zac," JJ urged, "Don't stress… he is a friend of your mom's, but…" JJ paused and sighed, "I have a guy who can be at your place in the next hour to change the locks. Can you stay there until he gets there? I'll come over right away."

"Of course," Zac said, "Should I be worried?" he asked, feeling like it was a rhetorical question. He was worried, no two ways about it, but he wanted to know how worried he needed to be.

"Nothing to worry about," JJ replied, "This is just a precaution, I promise."

Zac nodded and heard the phone click in his ear. JJ was gone.

He made his way over to his mom's study, searching her desk for anything that might suggest what this Clyde guy had been looking for. He came up with nothing, but that didn't mean there was nothing to find if you knew what you were looking for. He wondered if JJ would know what Clyde might be trying to find, and made a mental note to ask her when she came by.

As he opened the second drawer in one of the filing cabinets, Zac wrinkled his brow, standing up straight and staring at the object.

A gun.

Zac was a pacifist, he didn't believe that guns had a place in his life, and yet here he was, staring at one. It wouldn't take much to pick it up and stuff it in the back of his jeans, carry it with him while he waited for the locksmith and JJ. But he always believed that having access to a gun would only increase his chances of needing to use it, and he had no desire to use one.

Zac kicked the drawer closed, locking the cabinet and shoving the key into his pocket. He knew it was there, and that had to count for something.

Zac turned and headed back into the hall, making his way to the dining table and dropping into the seat in front of his laptop. He stared at the screen for a moment, trying to get himself back into the right headspace to continue with his work, but the more he stared at the numbers, the more his mind drifted to what had just happened.

The strange visitor with the key, and the gun in the cabinet.

Zac reached over to pick up his cell again, opening his text messages this time. He quickly typed out a message and hit send, taking a deep breath as he turned back to his work.

*Hi Aaron. Zac here. Just wondering if you're free for a visit tomorrow morning. Let me know.*