A/N: Tis is my first time writing Jack and the Hotch/Jack dynamic. i hope it came out alright. Thanks for reading!
By the time Hotch made it home, showered, checked on Jack and got to bed four and a half hours was the most sleep he could expect. He spent half an hour of that time staring at the ceiling, wondering how JJ was feeling and trying not to think about the bruises he'd seen and the ones he hadn't.
Was it really only three days ago that he'd thought JJ was safely ensconced in an office, going home each day to her son and boyfriend? Her e-mails had always been so cheerful, oftentimes a much needed breath of fresh air in the middle of a long day or a difficult case; it was hard to believe the life she had been living was so different from the one she'd projected.
His alarm clock didn't have a chance to wake him up when noises coming from the front of the apartment alerted him to the fact that Jack was awake. He pulled on a t-shirt and made his way to the kitchen. The very messy kitchen, with a broken egg on the floor and what must be Krusteaz mix all over the counter if the open box was anything to go by.
"I'm making breakfast," the proud five and a half year old exclaimed.
"We talked about this, Jack. You're not allowed without an adult in the kitchen with you." For some reason Jack had become fascinated with cooking lately. Hotch blamed it on the dinner they'd had at Dave's a few weeks ago, after one of their soccer practices. Dave had allowed Jack to help stir the sauce and decorate the cookies; since then his son was convinced he could make anything.
"I didn't touch any of the hot stuff, not even the 'rowave. You can cook my pancakes, okay?" Jack stood on a stool at the counter, stirring a bowl of something vaguely batter looking. There were lumps and chocolate chips and it was too thin, but at least it was the right color. If he was lucky he could get Jack out of the room for a few minutes so he could start from scratch without hurting his feelings.
"That was good remembering about the hot stuff, buddy, but you're not supposed to do any cooking without an adult. Just cereal and stuff from your special drawer." The lowest drawer in the kitchen was filled with peanut butter crackers, fruit roll ups, granola bars and other kid friendly snacks.
"I was helpin' dad. You didn't have dinner last night and it's bad to skip meals, right?" Jack looked so earnest that it was hard not to smile.
"Thank you, Jack. I did have something last night, but you're right about skipping meals." Something was coffee and a protein bar, which barely qualified as food, but it was his place to worry about his son, not the other way around. He scooped Jack off the stool, gave him a hug, and set him down. "If you go get dressed and make your bed I'll make the pancakes. But no more cooking without help, okay?"
"Okay, daddy." Jack ran out of the kitchen. It would take him a few minutes to pick out an outfit and a few more to get dressed. Tying his shoes would take the longest but making his bed really just meant pulling up the comforter, and that barely took any time at all. That gave Hotch just enough time to dump the batter and rinse the sink so Jack didn't notice, make new batter with half the chocolate chips and no egg shell, and clean the broken egg off the floor. He was just turning the first pancake when Jack returned.
"Did you catch lots of bad guys last night?" he asked as he climbed his stool to get plates out of the cabinet.
"Yeah, we did." Not quick enough, though. Not before JJ and Renee had been hurt, one still in ICU, one home but with more trouble than she should have to cope with alone.
"The pancake's burning." A small hand tugged on his sleeve, catching his attention but not before the first attempt at breakfast had become black and inedible.
"Sorry, buddy." Hotch tossed it in the trash and scooped out more batter.
"How comed you have frowny-face, daddy? Didn't I make the batter good?" Jack was looking at the burnt pancake, wearing a frown of his own.
"These pancakes are going to be perfect." It wasn't a lie, just a slight hedge. He ruffled Jack's hair until he smiled, and turned the pancake at just the right moment. "I'm just worried about a friend of mine."
"Are they sick?" Jack walked over to the pantry, but stopped with his hand on the door. "Can I get the powder stuff?"
"Please," Hotch corrected. "And yes, you may."
"What about your friend? Arethey sick?"
"No. She got hurt by some bad guys." The bastards were the ones that were sick and twisted.
"Like mommy?" The box of powdered sugar fell to the floor. It had been a year and a half now; they could go weeks without nightmares or Jack worrying about what had happened to Hayley, but there was always a reminder.
"Not like mommy." He took the pancake out of the skillet before it, too, could burn, but didn't start a new one yet. Instead he picked up Jack and put him on the counter so they could look at each other eye to eye.
"Miss JJ was hurt but the doctors fixed her up and she's already at home. She's going to be okay." He hoped, desperately, that it was true and not just a story told to keep his son from worrying.
"Can we make her some cookies? Cookies always make me feel better. I can make her a picture too. Does she like cars or fish better?" Jack was smiling again, making Hotch's world just a little better.
"I think she'd like anything you drew for her. Drawing will have to wait, though. You have to eat so we're not late." He made three more pancakes, giving two to Jack and eating a part of the third before excusing himself to get dressed. He glanced at the phone the whole time he was dressing, and when all that was left was his tie he finally gave in.
"Penelope Garcia." Hotch waited a moment, but the creative greeting he'd come to expect was not forthcoming. It was strange, though probably not unexpected, considering.
"It's Hotch. I was just calling to see how she is."
"She just got up. She was exhausted last night; barely made it through a bowl of soup." From the sound of her voice Garcia hadn't gotten much sleep herself.
"Sleep's probably one of the best things for her right now; I'm surprised she's up already." Though he wasn't, really, when he thought about it. He'd seen the mattress on the floor, not even a sheet to protect her from the cold. He knew how disrupted her sleep would have been all those nights, listening with one ear for the guard, looking for an opportunity to get not only herself but the others out. He knew that she'd gotten stitches at the hospital for a cut, and wondered about the pain that might have kept her awake as well. All the kinds of pain. "Is there anything either of you need? I could stop by on my way in to work."
"I think we have everything. Food and chocolate and some chick flicks if she's up for that later. I think I have all the bases covered. I'm making pancakes now, and maybe we'll go for a walk. She could use a little sunshine."
"You're the one to make sure she gets it, Garcia." Even on a cloudy day Garcia seemed to be able to bring out the sun. He was glad JJ had let their computer tech stay with her; maybe having her there today was a better idea then having her there the night before would have been. Maybe JJ would talk, if it was just the two of them.
"We've got her back with us. That's sunshine enough for me," Garcia said resolutely.
"Let me know if you change your mind about needing anything, alright? I'll be at the office after I drop off Jack, but I can leave if you need me." As much as he wished things were as easy as Garcia wanted them to be, he had the feeling that sunshine was a ways away.
"Will do, sir. Give Hotch mini a hug from me, and tell him I'll see him soon, alright?"
"I will." Hotch hug up the phone, wondering if he should have asked to speak with JJ, and what he would have said to her if he had. It was probably better to leave her in Garcia's capable hands.
"Are you ready for school, Jack?" he called out as he walked into the hallway.
"Ready, daddy," was Jack's quick reply from the bathroom. Somehow he'd gotten water all over his shirt but still had powdered sugar on his face and what might be egg yoke on his cheek.
"Let me help you with that." He sat on the closed toilet seat and helped his son get ready for school; five minutes later they were out the door. Once they reached the school Hotch gave Jack an extra hug before saying good-bye and heading off for the BAU. He had reports to write, every 'i' dotted and every 't' crossed. No way was he letting any of the arrests they'd made last night escape with less than the maximum penalty.