Nine

You're nine when your dad starts dating again. You're not old enough to truly understand the magnitude of its implications, but you're old enough to process that you simply don't like it.

Your dad was your dad, and your mom (even though passed away) was still your mom. Although you're not naïve enough to think that everyone's family should be the quintessential American Dream (white-picket fence, nuclear family and all), you know that conventionally, a kid's mom and dad should be together. There shouldn't be other people on the side.

As such, you aren't entirely sure how to react to Julia, your dad's new date. Sure, she's nice enough. She smiles at you patiently and bakes really good cookies. Most importantly, she doesn't force you into interacting with her; she keeps her distance. She's also quite pretty, your nine-year-old-self admits—a pretty brunette lady with kind, hazel eyes. All the same though, Julia is nowhere near as pretty as your mother was, you conclude to yourself with strong resolution. Consequently, you feel yourself torn. You know that Julia seems like a nice lady, but you don't want to betray your mom, so to speak. Luckily, you normally aren't in a position where you need to react, anyway. Both your dad and Julia have been careful to give you your space, and to let you approach them in your own time.

However, just your luck, the BAU is having their annual Christmas potluck at Uncle Dave's place (which you and your dad have attended for as long as you can remember)—and this year, your dad had announced he was going to bring Julia. He was serious about this relationship, so it was about time she met the important people in his life, he had claimed. You had offered a noncommittal grunt in reply.

As soon as you arrive at the party, you make a beeline for the outdoor fountain, leaving the adults to their small talk indoors. You hear your father's happy voice, introducing Julia to your mom's former colleagues. Part of you knows that you should have stayed for the introductions; that would be the polite thing to do, and you usually have better manners than that. However, for reasons you can't explicitly word or comprehend yourself, there feels like nothing you'd rather do less at the moment.

Instead, you spend time throwing small pebbles into Uncle Dave's frozen-over fountain, attempting to crack the solid ice. This sufficiently amuses you for a bit. That's when you hear approaching footsteps.

"Henry?"

You turn around. It's not one of adults, as you thought it might be. Instead, you see Jack Hotchner, dressed smartly in a green windbreaker. "Oh. Hey, Jack," you greet the boy three years your senior.

Hands in his pocket, Jack nods at you. "How are you, man? Haven't seen you for a while."

"I'm… I'm alright," you say, fingering the pebble in your hand.

"Why don't you come inside? It's kind of cold out here. And they just got the chocolate fountain going—it's awesome."

"I'm okay out here," you say. Then you add almost as an afterthought, "Thanks."

However, Jack doesn't turn to go back inside, as you had expected him too. Contrarily, he comes even closer, and seeing the pebble in your hand, picks up his own. "Whatcha doing?"

You grin, and explain. He nods and eventually follows your lead, the two of you wordlessly chucking pebbles into David Rossi's fountain. After a while, you have to admit that it does begin getting chilly out. Jack seems to feel the same, as he stops mid-throw, and slowly lowers his arm.

"Hey Henry?"

"Yeah."

"I can't tell if you care that your dad is with someone new now… but even if you don't, I just feel like sayin' this, okay?"

You bite your lower lip. You admire and respect Jack—and have always looked up to the older boy. So as much as you don't want to hear this (nor address the matter at hand), you nod.

"When my dad started seeing Beth, I was so weirded out at first. But then… then I saw how happy she was making dad, especially when he hadn't been for so long. She makes him happy, and that makes me happy. So… so if you put it that way, she makes me happy too. I'm glad her and dad met. You get what I'm saying?"

You shrug.

"I'm not saying it's exactly the same for Uncle Will, but I think it's very similar."

You swallow and look away, saying softly, "I just—I don't want him to forget mommy."

Jack shuffles his feet awkwardly. "It's not that I don't miss my, uhm, first mom. I always do. I know dad does as well. But now it's like I have a second mom, and it's pretty awesome. Besides, Aunt JJ was so cool—it would be, like, impossible to forget her."

You finally look up at Jack. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure, dude."

You nod, and then the two of you stand in amiable and awkward silence.

After a bit, you clear your throat and feel the corners of your mouth lift as you raise an eyebrow at Jack. "So… is there actually a chocolate fountain inside?" you ask, eyes twinkling with mischief.