Finding A Way Home

A/N: Hello! Thank you for all the support this story has been getting. I appreciate all your nice comments.

To clear things up. This chapter mainly revolves around two events: The case in 2x09 (The Last Word) and a random day in 1993. I will just be switching up between those two events.

2006

"I hope to see you around." The unit chief spoke. Penelope immediately stopped in her tracks. She was intrigued. Originally, Garcia was walking towards her sanctuary away from all the horror found on the main floor of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, but this seemed much more interesting. She turned around to see Hotch standing by the elevator. He had a big smile on his face and started waving. WAVING. SSA Aaron Hotchner does not wave.

Hotch doesn't smile or wave or blush,

or at least he doesn't in the bullpen.

"It could be Haley." Penelope thought. "But wouldn't she want to get off of the elevator with Hotch?" The blonde watched as her boss made his way into his office. Garcia was stunned by the exchange that she had witnessed that she found herself following her boss towards the bullpen.

"Hey, baby girl" Derek Morgan greeted.

Penelope looked at Morgan. "I just saw Hotch talk to a woman in the elevator." Morgan tilted his head as if he was asking her to go on. "He was smiling and blushing, and he held the door open even if she didn't get off on this floor." Penelope rambled.

"Did you get a good look at her?" The agent asked.

Penelope shook her head. "But I am telling you angelfish I have never seen him turn red like this."

"What are you two talking about?" JJ had just gotten in. Morgan smiled as Garcia smirked. It's been a while since something juicy happened around here, and with Elle, gone things have seemed a lot tenser in the BAU.

"I just saw Hotch smitten with a woman in the elevator." Penelope coughed up.

"Well as much as I want to hear every detail of that story, we just caught a case," JJ said in a disappointed tone. She looked over to Reid and held up a file. Morgan and Spencer immediately got up from their seats to walk towards the briefing room. The media liaison looked at the technical analyst. "Tell me all about it after the briefing." She winked.

1993

Despite what people think, we don't have as much control over our lives as we think we do.

Some things are meant to be.

And most things aren't.

"Ambassador Prentiss" Aaron Hotchner was tasked to do security clearances for the Ambassador. This command signified what Hotch had been anticipating and what Haley had feared – a promotion.

"I don't get why you're joining the FBI" Haley yelled.

"I want to do more Haley."

"You're already a prosecutor." His girlfriend argued.

"By the time, I join a case it's too late," Aaron explained. "I want to be able to do more."

"You'll have insane hours," Haley added.

"I already work odd hours," Hotch replied.

The woman pouted her lips and fidgeted with her necklace. "What about starting a family? Kids?"

"We can start trying when we're ready." He pointed out. "My job doesn't change that."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore." Haley rolled her eyes and walked out of their apartment.

He knew it didn't make much sense, but it didn't have to.

Despite what people think, we don't have as much control over our lives as we think we do.

He didn't see or talk to Haley for a couple of weeks after that. Granted that it has been over a year since his sudden career change, but that argument still lingers in their relationship. They talk about it. Although, not much comes about from it. She gets annoyed. He starts putting up walls. She walks out. He later apologizes. Then, the cycle just keeps going. Neither wants to give in.

Some things are meant to be.

but most things aren't.

"I'm Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner. I am the commanding officer tasked to run security clearances for your staff as well as doing a thorough check on safety protocols." The agent introduced himself.

"Nice to meet you, Agent Hotchner." The older woman shook his hand. "I will have my head of security show you around." She had signaled for someone outside the glass door of her office. "My assistant will compile all our staff's files. She should have it for you by the end of the day." Ambassador Prentiss explained.

"That'll be great thank you." Aaron nodded and was already on his way out. He was reaching for the door when she called his attention.

"Agent Hotchner?" The woman called out. Aaron turned around. Elizabeth stood from her chair and walked around the table. She was headed to one of the windows of her office. She looked out into the window that overlooked the garden.

There was a cozy shed in the dark corner of the garden. It was small, but not tiny. It had enough room for two adults and maybe a third if they tried hard enough. It looked taken care of. It was made of wood but not the cheap kind that would rot. The shed had a door and no windows. It was a perfect spot to get away from this house. Honestly, it looked like a safety concern to Agent Hotchner.

"Do you see that shed?" Elizabeth Prentiss asked. "The one by the edge of the garden." She added as if they both weren't already looking at it.

"I do," Hotch replied.

"I know that part of your job is to make sure that we have eyes on every corner." The ambassador spoke. "But I am asking you to overlook that shed."

Aaron had opened his mouth to explain why that would be a concern. The ambassador raised her hand to stop him. Instead of arguing, he listened.

"My daughter, Emily, is home for the summer. She sneaks out of her room at night to hide out by the shed." She explained. Aaron nodded. "I haven't been there for her all that much. She was much closer to my late husband. She is a lot like him- smart, independent, funny." She said with a smile. "Anyway, Emily has been closed off since her father passed away." The woman had shifted her attention to the Agent.

You can see how her body had tensed up at the mention of her husband. As a profiler, Aaron got used to reading people's behavior. It was a habit he couldn't shake off. "We moved so many times throughout Emily's life. We have not stayed in a house long enough for her to get comfortable. However, in every house, she finds a spot to hide from me. A place where she can just be. When she was young, her father and she used his office. When Theodore passed, she had opted for rooms outside of the house itself. In Russia, it was an outhouse. In Italy, it was on the roof. At this house, it's that shed over there." The ambassador cleared her throat and walked back to her desk. Her back was turned, and she had both hands on her table to support her weight. A textbook move for people in power to not show vulnerability. The ambassador took a deep breath and quickly changed the tone of her voice. Once again, she projected confidence and power. "Emily doesn't know that I know, and I would like to keep it that way. Stay out of the shed." She said with authority. It was not up for discussion.

Aaron knew that he was breaking protocol if he agreed to the Ambassador's request. "I will work around it."

It came as a shock to both when Aaron agreed. Elizabeth knew her request was above his pay grade, and Aaron knew that this could jeopardize his career. On any other day or case, he would've immediately denied her request. Aaron had always done what he thought was best. In this situation, the logical thing to do would be to close off the shed to protect both the Ambassador and her daughter. However, choosing to overlook the shed was the right move.

Aaron had lost his father when he was young. The Hotchner patriarch died of lung cancer when he was only 47. Aaron was just starting high school. No one can prepare you for the moment a parent dies. In Aaron's case, he took on the responsibilities of being the head of a family. He looked after his mom and did everything to ensure that Sean, his brother, didn't miss out on any fatherly advice. Although, he was human. Some days were better than others. Much like Emily, he too sought a private spot away from expectations and other people.

A place where he could truly be alone.

A safe space.

So, he agreed to keep the shed.

Ironic, isn't it?

He was gambling his career for a woman he has yet to meet but couldn't give up a job for a woman he's been with his entire adult life.

Some things are meant to be.

2006

"Hotch?" JJ knocked. "St. Louis is in trouble. We need you in the conference room."

The BAU Unit Chief looked up from his paperwork. It's not like he was reading anyway. He briefly glanced at the media liaison before scanning the bullpen.

"Fuck." Aaron thought. The rest of the team was already in their respective seats in the conference room. He quickly stood from his chair and accepted the file from JJ. The two walked swiftly towards the rest of the team. Aaron quickly skimmed through the case file.

The briefing went on rather quickly. JJ got everyone up to speed where the local PD was in their investigation. Gideon had thrown out some theories. Reid talked about the dumpsite.

Two serial killers were trying to one-up each other.

One abducted his victims in public places.

The other targeted prostitutes and only killed at night.

Different M.O.s.

Different victimology.

Two different killers with no possible connection.

The team will get more once they got to St. Louis.

"Wheels up in 30."

1993

Some things are meant to be.

Aaron Hotchner was wrapping up the last of the employee records. It had been a busy few days. It had been one of those days wherein the days seemed to blend. On the first day, he got a tour of the grounds. On the second, he interviewed the staff. On the third day, he found himself looking through visitor logs and security footage. The whole thing was routine. No standouts. No red flags. It was why they had assigned him to do this in the first place. They wanted to see if he could manage an operation independently but didn't trust him enough with the big hard cases.

The agent thought that he should do another sweep on the grounds. This time at night. If all goes well tonight, then he can finish up his report in the morning and be back in Quantico by the end of the week.

"Son of a bitch" A voice yelled. Aaron reached for the gun in his pocket. It was an instinct. The voice had come from a woman. Hotch slowly made his way towards the source of the noise. It was well past midnight, so it can't be a gardener or any of the security staff. Aaron was assigned to do the sweep tonight. No one else was supposed to be in the garden. Agent Hotchner saw a sliver of light coming from the shed. It was dark enough for you to see the quarter moon. The stars shone above him. It was a beautiful breezy night, cool but not too cold. He remembered what the ambassador had told him about the shed. Aaron, despite what his gut was yelling, tucked his gun back into his holster. He knocked on the rusty wooden door. It was gentle and barely qualified for a knock.

Emily frantically put out her cigarette on her makeshift ashtray. She waved her arms to get rid of the smell. Aaron cracked up a smile. Although he couldn't see her or what she was doing, he had an idea of what was happening.

"Is it safe to come in?" The man asked.

Emily frowned. This voice didn't belong to anyone she knew. "That depends." The young woman challenged him. "Do I get to know who you are?"

"I think you'll find the answer to that once I get to come it." Aaron countered.

"Fair enough." Emily shrugged.

Some things are meant to be.

2006

"Have you looked at any transfers?" Aaron sat in front of his colleague, Jason Gideon.

The BAU had solved another case and was on their way back to Quantico. Two killers who just wanted to outdo the other. Another first for the worst of humanity. The members of the team had fallen into their routine patterns. JJ starts looking into new cases. Morgan puts his headphones on to try and block out the darkness that this job has to offer. Spencer was catching up on sleep.

"No, I would've discussed it with you." The older man replied.

"It's about time we replace Elle Greenaway," Hotch explained. Gideon nodded. The unit chief handed the older man a stack of folders. It was a few resumes left on his desk a few weeks ago. He assumes that Human Resources had already shortlisted the applicants. "I had Garcia fax these over before we left the hotel," Aaron explained. "Let me know if any name jumps out."

Both men looked through folder after folder looking for the new member of their team. Hotch was smart enough to print two copies because God knows he was already scanning through the files hoping to find hers.

Her resume was the 5th one.

He had just finished going over the resume of a bright-eyed young agent who specialized in gang-related crimes. The young man seemed promising, but not a fit for their team. He was almost giving up hope to find her name when he did.

Emily Prentiss

Graduated from Yale with a degree in Sociology and Cognitive Science.

Aaron was impressed. It was no surprise to him that she was intelligent. He knew she was working on a double degree when they first met. He was also sure that one of the security agents mentioned it to him when he was doing background checks. Although, it surprised him that she was taking up Cognitive Science.

Cognitive science is the interdisciplinary study of mind and intelligence, embracing philosophy, psychology, artificial intelligence, neuroscience, linguistics, and anthropology.

1993

Emily pushed the old dusty dresser away from the shed door. The door had swung open. Their eyes met for the first time. Both instantly felt comfort from the other's gaze.

Maybe it was fate,

Or the shared pain from losing their fathers.

Maybe it's because he understood her,

Or that he reminded her of a friend from Italy.

"Aaron Hotchner." He extended his hand to the young woman in front of him.

She had wavy brown hair that went just below her shoulders. The ambassador's daughter wore what other teenagers in the 90s were wearing. She wore a black sweater and a short plaid skirt that hugged her body. The sweater had a low V-neck neckline and white stitching on the sleeves. She smelled like vanilla and coffee with a hint of balsam, wood, and cigarettes. A detail that he didn't know why he noticed.

Profiling is recording and analyzing a person's psychological and behavioral characteristics, to assess or predict their capabilities in a certain sphere or to assist in identifying a particular subgroup of people.

"Emily Prentiss" She shook his hand. Her hands felt soft, and her smile was radiant.

Some things are meant to be.

"Oh, you're the agent that's doing security clearances this week." The woman realized.

"Yeah, that'll be me." Aaron smiled.

They may have stared into each other's eyes for too long.

He wanted to remember what her eyes looked like.

She was afraid to forget what he looked like.

Neither one spoke.

Neither of them cared.

It was electrifying.

Two strangers who had built walls up to protect themselves finding comfort from one another. They've never met before, but some things just feel right.

"You don't smile very often, do you?" She asked as she reached in her tote bag to find the pack of cigarettes buried in stuff. Emily had been the one to break off the silence.

"Can't do that in my line of work." He answered. She shrugged.

"Let loose a little." She lit her cigarette. He didn't flinch. "Would you like one?" She offered.

"I don't smoke." He replied.

"Not anymore?" She asked. He frowned.

"How did you know I used to smoke?" He asked.

"I figured." She answered nonchalantly. He stared at her. "Let me guess." She joked. He challenged her. "A family member died of lung cancer" Emily fished. "Or girlfriend."

Aaron smirked. "Both."

Emily nodded. "And here I was thinking that you were some cookie-cutter family man." The college student joked. The federal agent laughed.

"Do you usually judge people you've just met?" He asked.

Emily smirked. "That's funny coming from you Agent Hotchner." She took a step closer to him. "Aren't you here to profile my mother and her staff?"

"That's not false." He answered. She rolled her eyes. "Well actually, I'm here to profile you too."

"Is that so?" She giggled. "So, what have you learned about me?" The woman raised her eyebrow and tilted her head to her side. She was flirting with him.

Aaron was a damn good profiler. It was his specialty. That's why he was being transferred to the Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico, Virginia. This command is the case to seal the deal.

He couldn't do it.

He knew that his exchange with the 20-year-old was bordering on inappropriate. There were a lot of lines that he had already crossed just by being here alone with her, but they both knew there were a lot more lines that they were thinking of crossing.

No doubt that she was beautiful,

but he had a girlfriend.

He was planning to propose in the fall.

He already had the ring.

Aaron shook his head. She nodded as she took a step back. Emily had her back pressed on a wall. The shed was small enough that one step had caused them to be on opposite ends of the tiny box.

"I really shouldn't." He replied. She started to close her fists. He watched her thumb start to go over the nails on her fingers. A common thing that people who bite their nails do.

"Despite what people think, we don't have as much control over our lives as we think we do." Emily rambled. "Some things are meant to be." She smiled. "But most things aren't." The college student added. "Good night, Agent Hotchner." She extended her hand for a handshake.

But most things aren't.

2006

The rest of the way back to the bullpen had been uneventful. Most of the team opted to go home as soon as they landed as opposed to going back to the office. Hotch, being the unit chief, decided to give the team a well-deserved night's rest. They can catch up on the paperwork tomorrow. Spencer and Aaron were the only ones that had chosen to drive back. The former, however, said that he would be catching dinner before driving to the office.

Thus, why Aaron finds himself alone in the bullpen at 7 pm on a Thursday. The man walks into his office. The door is wide open, and the main lights were off. The blinds barely hid the contents of his safe space. He walks in with his briefcase in hand and his tie undone. The single lampshade in the corner was on.

"Please tell me you haven't been there for the past four days." He puts his briefcase on his table and leans on his desk.

The woman on the couch smiles at him. He sighs, then returns a smile. "I heard you were flying back tonight." She replies. Her arms were on her knees. The slacks she had worn on the elevator were now replaced with a grey pencil skirt. She rummages through her bag.

"A familiar sight." He thought

Emily stood from the chair and handed him her file. "I'm supposed to start here tomorrow." She announces.

Aaron scowled as he looked through her paperwork. "I didn't approve of this transfer." He replies. "Is there some kind of mistake?"

"I don't think so." She replies. Her smile was now replaced with confusion.

"I appreciate your interest agent, but profiling is a specialty." Agent Hotchner said firmly. "We can't just let anyone who wants to give it a whirl."

Emily stood up straight and pursed her lips. They both knew he was angry at the override of his authority and not at her presence.

"The I-80 killer?" She points out. "Co-eds in Indiana"

"I read that on the plane." He crossed his arms as if he was interested in what she had to say next.

"They aren't blitz attacks. This guy is organized." She explains. "He's a white male in his early 30s, a smooth talker." She has gotten his attention. "Because even after 11 victims, he can still convince educated women who know there's a predator out there to get into his car."

"How would you advise the police?" He tries to one-up her.

"I would stake out the ranch house." She answers quickly. "A nightclub in Gary," the brunette explains. She took a step closer to Hotch. "They have a very popular ladies' night on Thursdays. If you look closely, you'll see that 8 out of the 11 victims went missing on a Friday morning. So, something gets this creep's motor running on Thursdays."

The unit chief was silent. Impressed, no doubt, but also intrigued by Emily's analysis of the case.

She was nothing like the woman he had met.

The woman in front of him was determined, confident, focused.

Nothing like the 20-year-old he met in a shed,

But at the same time, she was the same.

"This isn't a whirl, Agent Hotchner." She insisted. The mention of his name made his spine tingle. "I don't know how the paperwork got screwed up, or maybe you believe that my mother pulled some strings. She didn't by the way." She clarified. "I belong in this unit, and all I'm asking you for is a chance to show you that."

"Hey Gideon," Aaron caught up to his colleague who was just about to get into his car. "Have you thought about the transfers?"

"I saw a couple." The older man replied.

"What do you think of Agent Prentiss?" Aaron asked.

"The one from Chicago?" Gideon clarifies. Hotch nods. "I thought of her too. Good education background, great recommendations, the only thing that bothers me is the lack of field experience."

"We can pair her up with Morgan." The unit chief suggests. The older man nods. "I'll call HR tomorrow."

"We brief new cases every morning at 10:00 AM." Agent Hotchner informs her

"Understood." She nodded her head. "You won't be sorry."

Some things are meant to be.

But most things aren't

But this felt a lot like this was meant to be.