A/N: Thanks again to Southunlady + Vickyvicky890 + Kathlyn4060 for your reviews! Keep reading and keep em coming! More family fun in this chapter.

Chapter 8: Days Like This (song of same title, by Van Morrison)

Hotch stared at the board, tracing his eyes over Reid's map and the pins that marked the areas of the lake where the bodies had been found. Three so far, in as many weeks, and for a town as small as Runnings, Minnesota, that was three too many. The Coulson family had found the latest body when they'd arrived at their rented lake house and the kids had run straight down to the dock, only to find a body chained to the large wooden pylons that kept the dock attached to the lake.

He shuddered at the thought, imagining Jack being in a similar set of circumstances, finding a dead body or stumbling onto a crime scene. After the trauma he'd already experienced in such a short life, Hotch hated the thought of any more being piled on. He liked to think that his son was well-adapted, considering, but he still worried that there was damage done that could never be undone. He had wondered whether he should try to get Jack into some counselling, but everything else seemed to take precedent… maybe it shouldn't.

Thankfully, there was no risk of Jack being traumatised by this case, given he was twelve hundred miles away, give or take a few. But that didn't mean he wasn't still traumatised by everything he had seen so far. Biting his lip, Hotch wondered if he was doing enough for his son on that account.

"Hotch, the victims' families are here."

Hotch turned and found Morgan heading into the conference room, closing the door behind him. He nodded, wrinkling his brow, "Who do we still have here to conduct the interviews?" he asked as Morgan took a seat at the table.

"Uh…" Morgan looked down at his notes, "I think it's just you and me… JJ and Reid are still at the M.E. and Rossi's at the latest dump site."

Hotch nodded, taking the last sip from his coffee and tipping his head, "I'll use the detective's office, if you want to stay in here."

Morgan nodded, watching Hotch leave the room, noticing the drag in his friend's walk, the slump of his shoulders. Hotch seemed exhausted… more than usual… and it was worrying. The work was always exhausting, but Morgan knew that it was more than that.

He knew that losing Emily had effected the entire team, but for Hotch, it was more than just the loss of a team-mate or a friend. Hotch had always been pretty closed off, never really letting anyone on the team see him upset or emotional, but things had been different with Emily. Hotch had seemed lighter when she was around, like she helped him carry some of the emotional burden he'd been carrying on his own for years.

And now Hotch was on his own once more.

Morgan let out a sigh, wondering if there was something the team could do… or at least something he could do. As he spotted the deputy leading the first victim's parents towards the conference room, Morgan made a mental note to check in with Garcia. Maybe they could come up with a plan together.

Morgan stood from his seat and held his hand out to the mother, "My name is Derek Morgan, I'm with the FBI's Behavioural Analysis Unit," he said softly, "Let me start by saying how sorry I am for your loss."

Jessica smiled as she looked over to the boys, sitting at the dining table. She listened to Jack excitedly explain the outcome of the latest battle royale between his action figures, showing Zac the move that had clinched He-Man's victory over GI Joe. She had to admire Zac's ability to stay completely immersed in the little guy's conversation… maybe it was a boy thing... maybe it was just Zac.

"So what do you two have planned for this sunny day?" Jessica asked the two boys, smiling when they looked up at her simultaneously, almost identical grins on their faces.

Zac ruffled Jack's hair, "I was thinking we could pack a lunch, go to the park, feed the ducks… maybe take one of the remote-control boats out on the water… then get some ice cream," he replied, "What do you think buddy?"

Jack didn't say a word, instead offering his reply by nodding his head fervently.

"Careful there, Jack-in-the-box! Your head will roll right off," Zac chuckled. He stood and took the two brown paper bags that Jessica had packed for them, offering her a smile, "What time does he need to be home?"

Jessica shrugged and kissed Jack's forehead, "Whenever you're ready to bring him home," she replied, "Aaron won't be back until at least the day after tomorrow, so I'm going to have to do some grocery shopping and run some other errands…" Jessica paused and squeezed Zac's shoulder, "… I appreciate you helping out."

Zac bent down and threw Jack over his shoulder, the small boy squealing in response, "Yes, because it's such a tough job… getting to hang out with the coolest kid in the world."

Jessica shook her head and followed the two boys to the front door, waving goodbye as they made their way down the sidewalk. Leaning against the doorframe, she sighed, grateful to not only have the day to herself, but grateful that Jack had another positive influence in his life.

She had been a little sceptical when Aaron had first introduced her to Zac, telling Jessica that Zac could hang out with Jack anytime he wanted to. While she liked Zac from the very beginning, she couldn't help but wonder why the adult son of his deceased colleague would be spending so much time with the family. But that scepticism proved fruitless as she watched Jack grow to adore the young man. It was important for Jack to have as many loving, caring, kind people in his life, to show him that he was loved beyond measure. And Zac definitely fit that bill.

Jessica sighed, it's what Haley would have wanted for her son. To be surrounded by family – his dad, his aunty… his big brother. To know what love is, and to feel it every day of his life.

As she felt a tear slip down her cheek, Jessica shook her head, stepping back into the house as she wiped her cheek. She had a full day of errands planned and needed to get a move on… but first stop, coffee.

Zac laughed loudly as he fell to the ground, dizzy from spinning in circles and unable to keep up with the energy of his tiny friend. As he lay back on the grass, Zac felt a small thud next to him and looked over to find Jack sprawled out on the grass next to him. After just a moment, the six-year-old was back on his feet and grabbing Zac's hand.

"Come on Zac! Let's do it again!" Jack squealed, eliciting a groan from his friend.

"You go right ahead there, young Hotchner," Zac chuckled, "I'll just sit back and watch… and be on boo-boo brigade if you hurt yourself."

Jack certainly didn't need any encouragement and went back to spinning in circles, while Zac watched over him. He was sure that any second now, the young boy would have some sort of fireworks show springing from his belly, given the amount of ice cream he'd consumed after lunch. But Zac couldn't stop his fun… after all, that's what being a kid was all about.

It only took a few more spins before Jack had collapsed again on the ground, his head next to Zac's. As they lay back next to each other, the two of them watched the clouds in the bright blue sky.

Zac pointed up at the sky, "Check out that cloud, Jack… it looks like a cow."

Jack giggled and pointed at another one, "That one looks like a tree!" he exclaimed, before dropping his hand to the ground and letting out a sigh.

Zac felt sudden movement next to him and looked over to find the young boy watching him, a very serious look on his face. A look that reminded him of the boy's father.

"Zac…"

Zac looked back at the clouds and smiled, "Something I can do for you, Jack-in-the-box?"

Jack was silent for a moment, before he lay down again, his hands under his head, "We have a lot of fun together, don't we Zac?"

Zac wrinkled his brow in curiosity and huffed, "Affirmative."

Jack turned and giggled, "What does firmative mean?"

Zac smiled, "It means yes," he explained, glancing over to see Jack nodding.

Jack continued, finding that answer sufficient, "And I share my toys with you don't I?" he asked.

Zac huffed again and nodded, "Affirmative."

Jack giggled before he sighed deeply, "Do you think you could be my brother?"

Zac wrinkled his brow and looked over at the young boy, "I don't know if it's that simple Jack."

Jack sat up and crossed his arms, Zac following suit and facing him, "Why not? We have fun with each other, we share our toys. I love you and you love me. And my daddy loves your mommy, and your mommy loves my daddy. And my friend Sam says that when you do all of that, it makes you a family. And if we're family, then you're my brother, right?"

Zac huffed and smiled sadly, running his hands through Jack's sandy hair, "I do love you Jack, and it's great to hear that you love me too… but… my mom isn't here anymore… she… uh…" Zac swallowed over a lump in his throat, trying to think of an appropriate answer to give the young boy. Before Zac could come up with anything, Jack beat him to it.

"But your mommy's with the angels… same as my mommy, right?"

Zac smiled sadly and nodded, squeezing Jack's small shoulder, "Right, buddy."

Jack wrinkled his brow in thought, before looking up at Zac, "If your mommy is with the angels, then how come Daddy talks to her?"

Zac's forehead scrunched in confusion, "When does Dad talk to my mom?" he asked, feeling like this was a more serious conversation than he remembered ever having with Jack.

Jack shrugged, "At night, when Daddy thinks I'm sleeping, I hear him talking to her… asking her questions about things. He doesn't know I hear him, but I do…" Jack paused for a moment and twisted his hands in his lap, "Sometimes I hear him crying."

Zac's heart hurt a little at that statement, unknown to his young companion. Zac pondered what this information could mean. He'd often wondered what his mom had meant to his friend, but he never would have asked him. And now this… it made him wonder again, if he'd been right… that his mom had loved Hotch, and that Hotch had loved her back. And that thought made Zac's heart break a little, that neither of them had known when she was alive.

"Did I make you sad Zac?" Jack asked, worry evident in his voice and in his expression.

Zac shook his head, picking the small boy up and placing him in his lap, wrapping his long arms around Jack and squeezing tight. Zac rested his cheek against the top of Jack's head, "You're not making me sad, buddy," he said softly, "Knowing that Daddy loved my mom is a good thing. All I ever wanted was for someone to love her."

"I love her too," Jack said softly against Zac's t-shirt, "And I miss her lots."

"Me too, buddy," Zac whispered in reply, trying to hold back his own emotions. He had no concerns about showing emotion, but he didn't want to worry Jack. "It's ok to be sad sometimes, Jack, but you know what?" he asked, looking down at Jack and waiting for him to look up and nod, "I'm really happy that I get to spend time with you now."

Hotch made his way out of the garage, into the backyard, and smiled at the sight of Zac and Jack lying on the lawn, magnifying glasses in their hands. Four days was too long to be gone from his boy, but at least Jack had Jessica and Zac to spend time with him. He dropped his ready bag and briefcase on the ground by the door and went over to see what the boys were up to. When he reached them, both boys looked up at him, through their magnifying glasses, and Hotch chuckled as he lay down next to Jack, leaning over to kiss his hair.

"What are you two up to?" Hotch asked, ruffling Jack's hair and running a hand over his back.

Without looking up, both boys answered at the same time, "We're watching the ants!"

Hotch huffed and nodded, "And what exactly are the ants up to?"

Taking the lead, while still remaining focused on their subjects, Jack replied, "Some of the ants are searching for food and some of the ants are building the colony," he explained.

Zac looked up and smiled at his young protégé, "I thought it'd be fun to build a worm farm with him, but first, I wanted to teach him about ALL of the bugs that live right outside the house."

Jack sat up and pat his dad's leg, "We're going to get worms and feed them scraps and make a compost heap!" he squealed.

Zac smiled, watching the father and son interact, "Well Jack, I guess now that Dad's here, I'll head off," he said softly, reaching over to pat Jack on the back.

Jack wrinkled his brow and shook his head, "But we gotta catch the worms!" he whined.

Zac chuckled and pat Jack's shoulder, "It's ok, buddy, I need to get my gear before we do that, and the dirt here doesn't really have much of a worm population. Next weekend, if it's ok with Dad, we'll go to Home Depot and get the timber to make the compost box for the garden, and then we'll make up the compost heap."

Jack turned to Hotch and stuck out his bottom lip, "Can we do it next weekend Dad?"

Hotch rolled his eyes and chuckled, "I'll think about it," he replied.

Zac smiled at Jack, "Jack do you think you could go inside and grab my cell and keys for me? I just want to talk to Dad for a minute."

Jack nodded, hugging Zac tight before running across the lawn and up the back stairs to the house. When he disappeared inside, Zac smiled nervously at Hotch.

"What's going on Zac? Hotch asked curiously, hoping that Zac wasn't about to bring up something else for him to worry about. He was glad to be home, and had been hoping to get through at least twenty four hours with minimal stressors. They had found their unsub, but it had almost cost one of the local LEO's her life. And while he'd left the office early so that he could spend some time with Jack, Hotch would be working well into the night once the little guy was in bed.

Zac sighed and looked down at the magnifying glass in his hand, "I took Jack to the park on the weekend and…" Zac paused and cleared his throat, "Jack asked if we could be brothers…" he paused and smiled at Hotch's surprised reaction, "… when I explained to him that it wasn't really that simple, he said… he said that we share everything and we have fun together and… he said you love Mom and Mom loves you… and he said that he hears you talk to Mom at night, when you think he's asleep," Zac paused again, anxiously waiting for any sign from Hotch, "I just thought you should know."

Hotch's heart was beating so hard and he hoped that Zac couldn't tell how nervous he was at this revelation. He had always thought he was good at hiding his emotions, but apparently even his six-year-old was picking up on things. Hotch took his time to process the information. He was sure he'd never said anything around Jack about his feelings for Emily… but obviously Jack had seen or heard something that had revealed the secret.

Hotch looked up when he realised he'd been silent for too long, "I appreciate you telling me Zac… I… I don't know what to say," he said softly, dropping his gaze back to his hands.

Zac nodded and spun the magnifying glass in his fingers, "I know… I didn't know what to say either. He kind of surprised me with that one."

Hotch huffed and nodded, "I guess he's more perceptive than I think I give him credit for."

"He's definitely perceptive," Zac replied, "And to be honest… I mean… I don't mind him calling me his brother, if you don't mind."

Hotch huffed and shook his head, "Not at all," he replied, swallowing hard over the lump in his throat, "I guess…" he shook his head, "Never mind."

Zac furrowed his brow, reaching over to swat Hotch's knee, "Don't hold back on me now… what is it?" he probed.

Hotch shrugged, "I suppose, if you wanted us to…" he paused and sighed, "… we could be your family."

Zac smiled softly and nodded, looking down at the magnifying glass, "I'd like that," he replied nodding again as he pushed himself up from the ground.

When Hotch followed, he pat the younger man's shoulder before he went back to pick up his ready-bag and briefcase, "I appreciate you telling me what Jack said, and I appreciate you handling it the way you did."

Zac smiled and pat Hotch's arm, "Any time."

"So… you don't have to leave if you don't want," Hotch said as they started up the stairs to the back door, "I was going to make comfort pesto if you want to stay for dinner."

Zac rubbed a hand across his belly and grinned, "Love to," he replied, stopping suddenly, "Oh… before I forget, Grams and Pop wanted me to invite you and Jack to their place for a 4th of July party," he said brightly, "And before you think about saying no, think again… I have been told, in no uncertain terms, not to come back to them with any reply other than a resounding yes."

Hotch chuckled and nodded, "Seeing as your grandfather works for the CIA, I'd better say yes."

Hotch followed Zac down the long hallway of the Prentiss' large home, smiling at Jack as he looked back over Zac's shoulder. It had been years since he'd been to this house, but it was all still the same. The same dark wood floors, the same artworks hanging in the halls, the same grandiosity of the house that was a requirement for Elizabeth's work.

They made their way out of the doors at the end of the long hall and stepped out onto the patio, where they found a large gathering. Hotch estimated there had to be about a hundred people spread across the back lawn of the Prentiss' expansive yard. He recognised a few of them, some high-profile senators, and even a couple of the diplomats from some of the embassies in DC. It was a veritable who's who of the executive, legislative, and judicial branches of government.

"You made it," Elizabeth said brightly as she left some of her guests and made her way over to greet the trio. She leant over to give Zac a kiss on the cheek, squeezing his hand and running her other hand over Jack's back. "It's lovely to see you again, Jack."

Jack smiled shyly, tucking his head in Zac's shoulder, and Elizabeth blushed, before she turned to Hotch.

"So glad you could make it, Aaron," Elizabeth said, leaning up to place a kiss on Hotch's cheek, "I was sure you'd get a call about a case."

Hotch huffed, "I think the entire team is grateful that we didn't," he replied, squeezing Elizabeth's arm, "Thank you for inviting us, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth stood back and nodded, "Of course… it's what families do," she replied, smiling gently at Hotch as she stood back.

"Hi Pop," Zac said, leaning forward to pull his grandfather into a hug as he joined the group, mindful not to crowd Jack.

"ZIP, my boy," Simon said loudly, squeezing his grandson tight, "How are you?"

Zac chuckled, imagining his mom's reaction to the nickname that only his grandfather and Uncle Matt had ever been allowed to call him, "I'm fine... you?"

Simon shrugged and smiled down at Jack, "I can't complain," he replied. As they stepped back, Simon looked over to Hotch and held out a hand, "Aaron, wonderful to see you again, son."

Hotch shook his hand, "Great to see you too, Simon," he replied with a smile.

Jack leaned up to whisper in Zac's ear, "Why does Daddy call them Simon and Elizabeth and you call them something different?" he asked, not realising that the others could hear.

Zac looked up to his grandparents, and then over to Hotch, before he turned back to Jack, "Well, Simon and Elizabeth are their names, like Aaron is Dad's name. But they're my grandparents, so I call them Grams and Pop… does that make sense?"

Jack nodded and leaned up to whisper again, "Can I call them Pop and Grams too?" he asked, looking Zac in the eye.

Zac shrugged and smiled, "You can call them whatever you want, Jack-in-the-box," he replied.

Jack nodded and wriggled out of Zac's arms, dropping to the ground and making his way over to Elizabeth. He curled his finger and waited until Elizabeth squatted down beside him, and he smiled, "Grams, can I have a soda?" he asked shyly.

Elizabeth placed a hand over her mouth to stop the chuckle that was threatening to burst out, and she looked up at Hotch, who nodded.

"I think we can arrange that Jack," she replied, standing up and holding her hand out, "Why don't you come with Grams and we'll see what we can find in the kitchen?"

Hotch stepped into the hallway, making his way around a small huddle of guests, smiling politely as he passed them. He was enjoying himself, but he needed a breather. He wasn't accustomed to parties, and while he knew Zac, Elizabeth, and Simon, the rest of the guests were all relative strangers. Some of them he knew by name and reputation, but he'd never actually met them before. And beyond the social pressure, Hotch was feeling a little overwhelmed by the locale.

He stopped in the hallway and smiled sadly, sliding open the door to a familiar room and stepping inside, before he closed the door behind him. Hotch sighed as he turned to take in the room. The tall bookshelves lining the walls of the room were filled to the brim with tomes, and he moved closer to peruse the titles. As he looked to his right, Hotch found the small wooden ladder and his mind went back to that afternoon, all those years ago. A young Emily, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, standing on the ladder and almost falling down when he found her.

"Needed a break did you?"

Hotch was broken from his memories when Simon spoke up, and he turned to face him.

"Sorry," Hotch said softly, "I know the door was closed, I just needed…" his voice trailed off and he shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets, "Anyway… I remembered this room was here and thought I'd take some time away."

"A little peace and quiet?" Simon asked, watching Hotch nod before he continued, "I usually do the same… come in here, or go up to the rec-room upstairs."

Hotch smiled softly and tipped his head towards the door, "I'll leave you to it then," he replied, starting towards the door.

Simon shook his head and held up a hand, making his way over to the large globe in the corner and opening it, revealing a bottle of scotch and two glasses, "Come and sit down for a minute… the party will be fine without us, I'm sure."

Hotch huffed and nodded as Simon poured a couple of drinks, following him over to the two large leather armchairs that were set up in front of the empty fireplace. He looked around the room and realised this would be a great place in the winter, to sit and read in front of the fire... he could actually picture Emily doing just that... the thought warmed his heart.

As he sat back in the armchair, Simon looked over at Hotch, who was staring into his glass, turning it in his hands.

"So you still remember the layout of the house, even after all these years?" Simon asked, remembering his first meeting with a much more energetic Aaron Hotchner, before all of the losses that came with his work.

Hotch nodded, "Yeah, I was a little surprised myself, though… this room holds special memories."

"How so?" Simon asked, taking a sip of his drink and studying Hotch's face. He seemed to be reminiscing, his eyes glazing over as he considered his answer.

Hotch looked around the room and smiled sadly, "This is the room where I met Emily for the first time," he replied, picturing her standing up on the ladder as he thought back over the interaction.

Simon nodded, the younger man's response confirming his long-held suspicions about Hotch's feelings for Emily. His direct observations of his daughter's interactions with Agent Hotchner were limited to the one visit he'd been allowed to make to her office, before that awful case in Colorado, but Simon had picked up on more from his conversations with Emily in the time that had passed since then. He knew that Emily and Aaron had spent time together outside of work, growing closer, but he didn't think it had become more than friendship. He figured it came down to the Bureau's rules, which he thought was a ridiculous reason not to try... and now it was too late.

Simon didn't have the heart to probe Hotch further on that subject, instead wondering if this was the opportunity to ask the questions that had been on his mind for so long. He'd had to go straight back into the field after Emily's funeral and had spent much of the last few months overseas. It was easy to throw himself back into his work, handling agents who were covering operations in the field, but now that he was back in DC for a spell, Simon had been meaning to reach out to Aaron and ask those questions.

Simon cleared his throat, causing Hotch to look up from his drink, "I've been meaning to ask you, Aaron," he started, their eyes meeting, "Have you found him yet?"

Hotch took a sip of his scotch and shook his head, "No sir, I'm sorry," he replied.

Simon nodded, "Do you have any leads?" he asked, "I'd like to help."

Hotch shook his head again, "I can't imagine what it's like for you, but… our team needs to handle this," he explained, concerned with this line of conversation.

Simon sighed, taking a sip of his drink, wondering how to word his next question in a delicate way, "I need you to be honest with me Aaron," he said softly, watching Hotch and studying his face.

"Of course, sir," Hotch replied with a nod.

"Is my daughter really gone?" Simon asked, shaking his head at the confused look on Hotch's face, "This isn't a grieving father's wishful thinking, and I've not shared my suspicions with my wife, but… I was… well, where I was doesn't matter… one of my contacts told me that they had seen Emily and it has me wondering."

Hotch furrowed his brow, "Sir… Emily's gone and as much as I wish that was different, it's not."

Simon nodded and sighed, taking a quick sip of his drink as he thought over Hotch's words. He never said she was dead, only that she was gone. And he knew that Emily had made it clear what she wanted for a funeral - she wished to be cremated and she wanted her family and loved ones to have a big party in celebration of her life - but the Bureau had not allowed them to follow through on those wishes. That, combined with Simon's contact telling him that he'd seen Emily walking down a street in Paris, made Simon think that there was something else going on.

"Ok… I believe you, Aaron, but if you're doing this to protect her, I can't imagine why you think telling me would change that. She is my little girl, and I use that tense intentionally."

Hotch bit the inside of his cheek and nodded, "I understand sir."

If he was being honest with himself, Hotch had been expecting this. Simon Prentiss was no moron, and even the grief that he had been clouded with since losing Emily didn't make him completely oblivious. He had contacts and resources that Hotch could only dream of, and he wondered if there was something that Simon could bring to their investigation. After all, with the goal being to catch Doyle so that Emily could come home, maybe…

Hotch shook his head. This was one thing he couldn't share with Simon.

Simon nodded and held up his glass, "Well if that changes, you know where to find me," he replied.

"Yes sir," Hotch replied.

"Enough with the sirs, please," Simon joked, "It's Simon."

Hotch huffed and nodded, "Yes si… Simon," he replied, looking up when he heard the door sliding open, and watching as Zac followed Jack into the library, quietly closing the door behind them.

Zac took a seat on the floor by the fireplace, letting out a sigh as he leant back against the brick furnace, "I thought I'd find you two in here," he said softly, smiling at the scene unfolding in front of him.

"Hello young Jack," Simon said, smiling at the young boy as stopped next to him, "Do you like books?" he asked, gesturing to the corner of the room behind Hotch as Jack nodded enthusiastically, "There might be some Jack-worthy reads in the corner.

Jack grinned and ran over to the corner where Simon had pointed, gasping as he found a handful of books that he recognised. He picked one book out and then walked back over to Simon, crawling up into his lap and holding up a copy of The Grouchy Ladybug.

"Can we read this one please, Pop?" Jack asked softly, looking up at Simon.

"Of course Jack," Simon replied, taking the book and shifting Jack on his lap while he opened the book, "Now… where do we start?"

Jack giggled, turning the pages, "At the beginning!"

"Oh yes," Simon replied, winking at Zac and Hotch, "The beginning… let's see… It was night and some fireflies danced around the moon," he started, looking down at Jack's joyful face as he turned the pages. It was a relatively short book, with only a few pauses so that Jack could point to the illustrations and ask questions. By the time they'd reached the final page of the book, Jack was fast asleep, his head tucked against Simon's chest.

"I wish I could fall asleep like he can," Zac remarked softly, eliciting a chuckle from Hotch and Simon, "These days it takes me forever to fall asleep."

"I know what you mean," Hotch added drolly, "One time, when he would've been about three, Emily and I took him to the park and he fell asleep in one of those tube slides."

Zac and Simon chuckled, the latter watching Hotch's face light up at the memory.

"How did you get him out?" Simon asked.

Hotch smiled softly at the memory, "Uh... Emily had to crawl up from the bottom of the slide and carry him out. All the other kids were so glad when they could finally use the slide again, and..." Hotch shook his head and chuckled, "... Emily's hair got all static-y and she looked like she'd stuck her finger in a socket for the rest of the afternoon, no matter how much I tried to brush it down for her ... not that she appreciated that description when I made it at the time."

"I can imagine," Zac added, "I remember once, when she was trying a new short haircut, I told her she looked like a witch, which I thought was a compliment... she did not."

As they laughed at their memories of Emily, shared and otherwise, the three men looked up at the sound of the doors sliding open, and Elizabeth appeared. She shook her head as she stepped inside, "You do all realise there's a party happening outside, don't you?" she said softly, walking over to run her hand over Simon's shoulder, "I'd really appreciate some help with our guests."

Simon reached up to squeeze Elizabeth's hand, where it was resting on his shoulder, "Sorry dear," he replied in a whisper, nodding down at Jack who had fallen asleep in his arms, "We were just taking a break."

"Well, isn't this just the sweetest sight," Elizabeth said, running her hand over Jack's hair, "He looks just like Zac when he was this age." She looked up and offered Hotch a soft smile, "If you'd like, Aaron, he can sleep in Emily's old room, upstairs… take the elevator up to the third floor and it's the last room on the left."

Hotch nodded, "Thanks, that would be great," he replied, standing from his seat and reaching down to lift Jack out of Simon's arms. He stood and adjusted Jack in his arms before he followed the others out of the room. He turned back briefly to watch as Zac, Elizabeth, and Simon exited the library, making their way out into the backyard where the rest of their guests were gathered. Hotch turned back and continued down the hall, hitting the button on the elevator and waiting for the doors to open before he stepped inside. As the elevator moved up the floors, Hotch huffed, wondering if he'd ever been in a private residence that had an elevator… he had not.

The doors opened on the third floor and Hotch stepped out, tucking Jack against his chest as he continued down the hall, opening the door that Elizabeth had directed him to. As he stepped into the room, Hotch ran his hand over Jack's back and made his way over to the bed. He lay Jack down on top of the covers and reached over for a small throw blanket to cover him up. When he tried to stand up, Jack gripped onto Hotch's shirt collar and whispered in a sleepy voice.

"Don't go Daddy," Jack mumbled against the pillow, letting go of Hotch's shirt.

"Ok buddy," Hotch whispered back, climbing over to the other side of the bed and laying his head on the pillow. He stared at the ceiling for a moment, before he turned his head to look around the room. It felt like time had stood still here. Emily's desk in the corner, decorated with a Yale flag and class schedule, textbooks piled on the shelf behind it. He looked to his right and found a book on the bedside table, and as he opened it, a strip of photo booth pictures fell onto his chest.

Hotch chuckled as he ran his thumb over the image of Emily and Zac, who would've been no more than ten years old. He turned the card over and found the words, "Emily and Zac, FBI Academy Graduation, 1996." He tucked the photos back in the front of the book and returned it to its spot on the bedside table, before he rolled on his side and looked over at Jack.

"Daddy," Jack said softly.

"Yeah buddy?" Hotch replied, running his hand over Jack's back.

"This pillow smells like Emily."