Author's Note: I'm astounded by the outpouring of support for this story, so thank you to all reviewers.

Several weeks later, Hotch grimaced as he nursed a glass of scotch, unwilling to think of the horrors that ruled his day and how they could impact the little boy who was sleeping in the room upstairs.

What type of father allowed himself to be a part-time hero, full-time absent father?

He couldn't help but feel guilty.

Jack was his world—his everything—and could he really claim a victory if he saved the whole world at the expense of a relationship with his son?

He shook his head softly, that wasn't going to happen.

He loved Jack.

And most of all, he wasn't his father.f

At least he had that going for him.

But poor Jack had already lost a mother, and the only woman his son looked to for motherly advice was happily ensconced in a perfect relationship.

Damn his life.

A soft knock at the door surprised him—partly because of the lateness of the hour, partly because of the timidity of the knock. Flipping the lights on, he stood back in surprise as he heard a groan on the other side of the door.

By the time he reached the front door, however, whoever had knocked at the door was gone.

But the almost imperceptible whiff of perfume that wafted toward his nostrils filled him with a sense of nostalgia…though he wasn't sure why.

It reminded him of JJ.

Glancing down at the glass in his hands, he shrugged and put the glass down.

Better not to tempt fate.

Because the last person he ever wanted to become was his father.

JJ held her breath as she heard Hotch open his front door, momentarily praying he didn't try to inspect further.

When the lights flickered on, she knew he was home, and did what she did best.

She ran.

At least, she ran around the corner.

She had just needed somewhere to go.

Somewhere that she and Henry could spend the night.

As if reading her mind, Henry shifted sleepily against her, and her heart dropped as she prayed her son wouldn't make a sound.

The last thing she needed was for someone to know.

She cursed herself as she thought of how angry she had made her boyfriend to force him to kick them out with nothing but the clothes on her back and the empty gum wrapper in her pocket.

He would call and say he was sorry.

He had to.

Because she had nowhere else to go.

Pulling her jacket softly around her son for warmth, she shuddered involuntarily as her mother's familiar relationship advice nearly shouted in her mind. 'Remember, if you've got relationship problems Jenny, it's never the fault of one person alone. You are just as much at fault as your spouse.'

She vowed not to let herself fail at this relationship. And even though her father was an abusive bastard, her parents were celebrating their 30th wedding anniversary. Her mother must have done something right, and JJ refused to fail. Not this time.

And if there were problems, well…maybe that was just how relationships were.

At least he didn't hit her this time.

Hotch paused as he looked at the residue still lining the glass, fighting the nagging feeling that seemed to tug his soul to check and make sure no one was outside.

After Foyet, he was all too aware that monsters could show up at his very doorstep.

He hesitated for a moment, reminding himself that not every story ended poorly.

Not every story ended in tears.

But there was something—a sixth sense—something less than a profiling deduction based on facts and situations, but more than just a feeling.

Someone was out there.

Bracing himself for what he was sure was a false alarm; he grabbed his gun from the safe and stepped outside.

The crisp March air nipped at his warm skin as he stepped into the darkness. Rounding the corner of his wrap-around porch, he stopped in surprise at the huddled figure on the ground, leaning heavily against the siding of the house.

"JJ?" He blinked in surprise, flabbergasted at the sight of his friend. Thousands of questions raced through his mind at once—Why are you on my porch? Why did you hide? What are you doing here?—Finally, he settled on, "Can I help you?"

"Hotch." JJ gasped with wide eyes, wincing as she pulled her shirt to cover the dark mass on her upper shoulder. "I—" She searched for the words—any words—that could explain why she was here.

I didn't have anywhere else to go.

No, she couldn't say that—Hotch would think something was wrong.

But Will would call and say he was sorry.

Hotch didn't need to know the intimate details of their relationship.

"I—had to run to the store" The words fell out of her mouth in a rush and she prayed Hotch wouldn't be able to tell she was lying, "I walked over to CVS and realized I didn't have my wallet…and I locked myself out of the house."

Hotch furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "You walked with Henry to CVS at 10:30 at night?" He asked deftly, wondering if it was just the alcohol that slowed his mind.

But this didn't seem to make sense.

JJ nodded, and Hotch was sure he saw her wince as she pushed herself up with one hand, Henry's bright blue eyes looking at Hotch suspiciously from behind her. "We ran out of…" She looked at him helplessly, flashing a fake grin he could swear he had seen her give the press thousands of times, "we ran out of milk."

"At 10:30?" He shook his head, still reeling at the sight of the woman in front of him. "JJ, you must be freezing. Come inside."

Stepping toward them, he cringed as he felt her frozen fingertips brush against the hairs of his arm. Realizing the story she had just given him, he fell back slightly in surprise. "You walked here?"

She bit her lip in hesitation. Hotch only lived half a mile away, but there was a different reason she used his home as her escape from late-night arguments.

She felt safe there.

"Will's not home. I—" She tried to come up with some fabrication that could resemble a valid excuse. "I didn't—" Her voice cracked involuntarily, "I didn't know what else to do." She admitted, cursing the vulnerability that managed to seep into her voice.

Hotch opened the door, ushering JJ inside as his mind sluggishly tried to connect dots he wasn't sure were there. Certain at least, that something was going on, but realizing JJ was nearing the edge of her perfectly maintained control, he gestured for her to sit.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" He offered gently, not missing the wave of relief that seemed to wash over the blonde as he dropped the issue.

If he wasn't sure something was going on before, he was dead sure now.

What the hell was happening?

"Just water." JJ smiled gratefully, snuggling comfortably into the oversized arm chair that seemed to have somehow conformed to her body.

She supposed she spent enough time there, maybe the chair recognized her presence.

At least Hotch wasn't going to press the issue.

Returning with a cup in hand, Hotch raised an eyebrow in surprise at how comfortable JJ appeared in the chair that just didn't seem to feel quite right to him anymore. Shaking the flag that raised itself in his mind, he handed her the glass, noticing immediately the way her fingers trembled as she accepted the drink.

"I haven't seen you in a while." Hotch admitted, settling himself into the love seat just opposite her. "But my pipes didn't freeze over the winter, so I guess I have you to thank for that."

JJ smirked, but Hotch noticed the way she held the seven year old year old protectively against her, "With as much as you go out of town, I'm surprised you remember that you have a house to come back to." She teased.

Hotch smiled, though he didn't bother fighting the nagging feeling that weighed on him.

Something was wrong.

"JJ, is everything okay?" He asked sincerely.

"Of course," She dismissed quickly—too quickly in his opinion—flashing an easy, but seemingly rehearsed smile. "Everything's fine."

Hotch nodded, knowing that JJ didn't lie, but also well aware that there was something going on. "But if something was wrong, you know you could tell me, right?" He prodded.

JJ's face softened and for a moment he could sense the vulnerability behind the mask that she so carefully constructed to protect herself from the outside world. "I know."

He nodded, satisfied at least slightly that she knew she could come to him.

Still unsettled that something was amiss, he tried a different tactic. "How is the Department of Defense?" He asked conversationally.

Drunk or not, he would have been a fool to miss the way JJ's entire countenance dropped. "Oh. Uh…" She hesitated as if lost for words—that, more than anything else, proving that his instincts were not wrong.

Because Jennifer Jareau was never at a loss for words. "I quit." She brushed off the subject easily, .

Hotch fell back against the couch involuntarily, stunned at the news. "You…quit?" He sputtered, not comprehending the words. JJ was nearly as much of a workaholic as he was.

She wouldn't just quit.

Ever.

She looked down at the floor, obviously uncomfortable, "Will got promoted." She stated as if that explained everything. Seeing Hotch continuing to gape at her, she added, "We decided it was better…I just…I needed to be home with Henry." She finally settled on.

"How long?" He asked, dazed.

Maybe he was more drunk than he thought.

"A few months." She shrugged as if it didn't matter in the slightest.

But it did.

Because her job was everything.

And letting that go—that had mattered more than anything else.

"A few months?" He repeated, confused.

"Uh, can I use your phone?" She asked after a moment, and for the life of him he couldn't figure out why she seemed so uncomfortable. "Garcia has an extra set of keys. I don't have my phone with me…" She shuddered involuntarily at the memory of how Will had grabbed it and threw it against the wall sending tiny shards flying in millions of pieces, "I can be out of your hair—"

"It's no problem." Hotch interrupted, beginning to worry that this was more than some odd happenstance.

Because JJ's very demeanor—it reminded him an awful lot of…

No…

That wasn't possible.

"You can stay here tonight, you know." He offered, handing her his cell phone. "I have extra rooms, it's not—" His words were cut off by a sharp knocking at the door.

His heart sunk as he saw JJ's face pale and her eyes grow wide as if terrified that some monster was knocking at his door to drag her down to the pit of despair. "I'll just—" He gestured toward the door.

Worry was met with surprise at the sight of the two uniformed officers that greeted him on the other side of the door. "Aaron Hotchner, we're with DCPD." One officer gestured to the shield displayed on his chest. "We're looking for a missing person named Jennifer Jareau."

"Missing?" Hotch asked in surprise. This night kept getting stranger.

JJ stepped around Hotch, facing the officers. "I'm JJ." She said, cradling Henry tightly lest any of the men see the way her fingers trembled from the adrenaline of her earlier argument.

It hurt to breath, it hurt to think.

But she couldn't let anybody see that.

"Ms. Jareau." The officer smiled with relief, "your boyfriend was worried about you. He said you never came home today."

JJ bit her lip nervously.

She didn't know what Will had told the police.

But she also knew from experience how angry he would be if she tried to come home before he apologized.

Realizing Hotch was cataloguing her every expression, she smiled and forced a grateful relief into her voice. "Oh, I locked my keys in my car. I didn't know Will was home, so I came here."

Warning bells sounded in Hotch's mind as JJ's story changed.

Something was wrong.

JJ never lied.

But she was lying now.

The younger officer stepped away to radio in, and Hotch felt his heart sink as the first officer smiled kindly. "If you'd like, we can give you a ride home."

Cursing the officer, Hotch prayed JJ would say no.

He needed to talk to her.

JJ too was cursing the officer, but for different reasons.

If she refused the officer, Hotch would think something was wrong. Will might think she told the police something about their fight.

But if she went home…

"Ms. Jareau?" The officer prodded.

She hesitated and sighed, wincing noticeably as the pain in her ribs exploded from the movement. "Uh, yeah. Sure." She decided, willing to risk coming home too early.

She hoped it was the right choice.