Note: As with most of these scenes, this one makes most sense if you've read my other story "Curtain Call." If you haven't read that story, this chapter is a spoiler for the ending!

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Aaron Hotchner remembered his own high school graduation. Pacing nervously for hours in the restroom. Questioning every teacher: had he really passed? Trying to wake himself up. It couldn't be possible. He had graduated? He, whom his parents planned to keep as a slave in their house forever; he who wasn't worth an ounce of their love?

Yes, he had graduated. He had stood at Haley's right and stared, dazed, at the applauding parents, pretending his own were somewhere in the crowd. He had opened his own diploma, read his name in gold letters, and read it again. Haley kept hugging him, jumping up and down, and laughing.

"I did it?" He started smiling too. "I did it?" Everyone around him was screaming and dancing. Aaron smiled bigger than he ever had before. "I did it!"

Soon after, he also made it into college, and he made it into law school. He made it to the altar, where Haley Brooks took his hand and they exchanged vows. He walked with her to their new home, and he started to rediscover the joy and purity of family, at last.

Now he prosecuted criminal cases for a living, and he enjoyed it too. He enjoyed experiencing what his father used to do and imitating him daily with his suit and tie. He hoped to have his own little boy someday to take on field trips and teach about the world. If he was blessed with a son of his own, he vowed not to die too soon and leave the child without a father.

Lately, though, he was feeling discontent with his job and his inability to help people more effectively. Haley didn't know if he was serious when he told her he had sent in an application to the FBI, just to see what would happen.

While his and Haley's lives were getting along just fine, Aaron always kept an eye out for his little brother. Sean grew up happily in a loving adoptive home, and Aaron visited him almost every week. They didn't have much in common, and the age gap did nothing to keep the brothers close. Sean tended to think of Aaron more as an uncle than as a brother, but in the end he knew they were bonded by their parents' blood. His favorite conversations revolved around stories Aaron would tell about his father. Sean seemed to admire the man almost as much as Aaron did. But whenever they got together and shared stories, one tiny detail never came up: that Aaron's father was not Sean's.

Today was Sean's high school graduation, and Aaron had attended while Haley stayed home helping Jessica prepare for a job interview. He wore tan slacks and a blue oxford shirt, formal but sparing everybody the expected sight of his customary suit. Naturally Sean was excited to graduate, but Aaron knew he didn't feel the same level of unbelievable elation Aaron had experienced at his own graduation. That was for the better. Sean got to experience the typical highs and lows and mediums of a normal kid's life. He didn't have the soaring highs that contrasted with chasm-deep lows, and his lows were considerably less frequent. He would never know what it meant to regularly drown in so much sorrow that the simplest triumph catapulted him into humble amazement. For that, Aaron was immensely grateful. Let Sean's sadnesses be mere sadnesses, and his happy moments merely happy.

Sean almost got chosen to give the graduation speech, but a classmate won the role instead. That didn't seem to bother Sean. Throughout the ceremony, he was a grinning goofball. He had so many friends to share the moment with, and he was more talkative than Aaron had ever seen him before.

The graduation dragged on for a while (what graduation doesn't?) but eventually every name had been called, every diploma received, and every senior photographed. Aaron clapped for his brother, thinking about the emotionless baby he once looked after. The squirt had really come far, and his adoptive family had done him a world of good. Sean smiled so much. Thank goodness he had no recollection of the earliest year of his life. He could have easily been the product of idealistic suburbia rather than the son of two psychotically abusive drunks.

Sean had invited a large group of friends to his home afterwards to celebrate. His adoptive parents participated by serving lemonade and snacks, but mostly they seemed a little lost in the crowd of high schoolers. Aaron watched from the sidelines, privately reminiscing. As a high schooler, he knew more worries than most, but still he understood the carefree freedom most young adults revelled in. Too soon, they would know adult responsibilities and have to take care of themselves. For now, the only thing on their minds was shouting and dancing and exchanging unrealistic plans for the future.

Aaron scanned the photos on the bureau under the window in the front room. Pictures of Sean through the ages. There was only one baby photo, the only snapshot his mother had thought to take. Aaron easily recalled those round cheeks and soft wisps of hair and huge, curious eyes. He also recalled carrying that baby in the most bizarre and dangerous of circumstances. No matter how much the baby grew up, Aaron knew he would always be responsible for looking out for him.

Many other photos followed Sean through a delightful, mostly Aaron-free childhood. Sean, king of the playground. Sean, swim team leader. Sean, middle school science project winner. Smiles, smiles, smiles. A single picture featured Sean with his brother, arm in arm, big grins, little resemblance. Aaron frowned at the image of his so-called smile. Funny how he looked in photos. Whenever his picture was taken (something he hated anyway) he always thought he was giving his biggest smile. But when he looked back on the photo, he wondered why somebody didn't remind him to say cheese.

At the end of the table was a framed sepia photograph of Mr. Hotchner in his Army uniform. Aaron paused, gazing at his father's welcoming expression. His father.

Sean was hard to track down, but eventually Aaron spotted him beside the grandfather clock in the parlor. The young man was wearing a green polo and tan slacks, and he held onto his graduation cap. A handful of fellow students clustered around him, listening. Some of them had previously expressed interest in pursuing law school, so they all expected to be classmates in a pre-law program.

Sean was quick to take the spotlight, and quicker to brag. "With me, it's in the family blood. My dad, my brother, next me, all upholding the law. Talk about a legacy, right?"

Aaron suddenly started paying attention. Sean was holding up his brother's father as a personal role model, which had never bothered Aaron before. But now, in the midst of so many attentive young people, he felt concerned. He suddenly felt the need to tell Sean something he hoped he could hide forever.

Sean was in the middle of telling a dramatic story about Mr. Hotchner gathering evidence for an armed robbery prosecution despite opposition from the defense, a story that Aaron had told him last year. Aaron didn't expect to feel so uncomfortable, and he knew what needed to be done.

He walked casually over to the group and came up beside his animated brother. He cleared his throat as everybody else laughed at Sean's deliverance of the story.

"I remember that, Sean," said Aaron. "But you left out the part about the combination to the bank vault. Dad didn't ask the teller. He asked the janitor!"

Sean cleared his throat. "That's right. Everybody, this is my brother Aaron. The lawyer."

Aaron hadn't told him of his plans to exchange the law firm for a more proactive career with the FBI. He gave them a general nod of acknowledgement. "It's been awhile since I've gotten to have some one-on-one time with my baby brother," he said, earning a mock scowl from Sean. "Can you all excuse us for a few minutes?"

The group agreed, and Sean rotated his graduate cap absently in his hands. "Anything on your mind, Aaron?"

"Just a brotherly chat before you get lost in the jungle of college."

"It's not like you'll never see me again."

"True, but you're my brother. I'm not going to pass up a chance to see you off to a good start."

Sean wrinkled his brow. "Okay. I'm all ears."

Aaron nodded toward the kitchen. "Want a bite?"

Sean shook his head, but he followed Aaron around the corner and into the nearly empty, cozily decorated kitchen. Sean's adoptive mother hovered by the counter, arranging crackers and cheese dip on a silver tray. "Seany-boy, I know you said no sesame seeds, but we've gone through the entire box of plain wheat crackers..."

"Whatever you have is fine, ma'am," said Sean.

The woman hastily agreed and carried the tray out into the next room, muttering about keeping up with chaotic youngsters.

Sean set his cap on the counter beside used cookie sheets and gave Aaron a sideways glance. "Now what? A heart-to-heart? You know I don't do sentimental."

"I know," said Aaron softly.

Sean raised his shoulders. "Then what?"

Aaron sighed. "There's something I need to tell you. You're not going to like it, but I think it's time you knew."

"Oh no. You're not about to break the 'we were actually adopted' news, are you? I already know these nice folks aren't our real parents. I've known since fifth grade."

"Something else." Aaron let his gaze stray and settle at the photographs on the fridge. Sean looked perfectly in place with his adoptive family, especially in the Christmas photo where they all wore matching ugly sweaters. Aaron faced his brother again. "You were telling those students about your plans for law school?"

Sean's eyes wandered briefly as if searching for a memory of something he had done wrong. Coming up blank, he stared at Aaron again. "So?"

"I heard you talking about Dad a lot."

Sean laughed. "Yeah. Isn't it great? I'll finally be studying law, just like you, just like Dad. You knew that was my plan."

"Yes, I know. And I'm excited for you. But before you go, and before you tell anyone else anything different, I have to tell you the truth."

This was becoming harder than he had expected. Sean tipped his head forward, staring, anticipating the next words.

Finally Aaron mustered the courage to make his confession: "We didn't have the same dad."

Dead silence. Sean blinked a few times. "What?"

Aaron took a deep breath. "My dad died before you were born. Mom got with somebody else, your dad, and he died while you were a baby. And he wasn't a lawyer."

Sean put a hand to his forehead, pressing back against his hairline as he stared at the chicken-shaped clock on the wall. He shook his head. "Are you serious? I've been telling all my friends since grade school about how my dad was a lawyer, and how I would follow in his footsteps—just like you! Now you're telling me it was all a lie?"

Aaron felt terrible about it too. "Sean, I'm sorry. I was trying to protect you. I never thought of you as my half-brother. To me, you're more a Hotchner than you are your father's son."

Sean seemed to catch the uneasy tone in his brother's voice. He tilted his head and eyed Aaron suspiciously. "I don't believe this. You're making a joke. Aren't you?"

Aaron shook his head once. "I wish I was."

Right then, a burly high schooler with dreadlocks and a basketball jersey popped around the kitchen doorway. "Sean!" He came forward with a big grin and wrapped Sean in a quick hug. "Congrats, man!"

Sean forced a smile, obviously still thinking about what Aaron had revealed. Aaron watched his brother's friend closely. He had recently gotten into the habit of scrutinizing everybody's behavior and personalities, a habit that Haley found annoying.

The newcomer eyed Sean at arm's length. "Off to pre-law, huh? Sure you don't want to take the basketball scholarship?"

"I'm sure," said Sean steadily. "The law is in my blood, and that's my passion."

His friend shrugged. "Right. I came in here for a glass of grape juice. Got any?"

"Look in the fridge. You know where to find it."

The young man found the jug and took an agonizingly long time pouring himself a drink. Finally he picked up the cup and headed for the doorway. "Come join the party, man! Somebody found your Led Zeppelin records and wants you to do your Kashmir drumming imitation."

"Maybe in a minute." Sean hadn't broken his gaze from Aaron's face. He waited for his friend to disappear before crossing his arms and asking a question. "What was my real father like?"

Aaron caught himself from wincing. "He fought in the war, just like my dad. He worked on computers, and he liked to fix cars."

"You're telling me what he did, Aaron. But what was he like?"

Aaron searched his brother's face. He could see some resemblance to his stepfather, tiny similarities he'd rather ignore. He didn't want to tell Sean about the truth, about the real legacy his father left him, one of violence rather than justice.

Did Sean need to know that his father was addicted to thoughts of war and spent every day smoking his lungs out? Did Sean need to know that the only times his father came near him were to tower over the crib while threatening to silence his hungry cries, no matter what? Aaron didn't want to tell Sean that the only reason he was alive to graduate today was because his big brother stepped between the crib and a closed fist on a regular basis. Nobody wanted to hear that their half-brother broke several bones keeping their father away from them.

"He was nothing like you are now," said Aaron finally. "He didn't care about people."

Sean gave him a blank stare. "What are you not telling me?"

At that moment, a brunette girl stuck her head in the kitchen. "Where's the bathroom? I need to fix my hair!"

Without looking back at her, Sean pointed in a general direction. "Down the hall, first door on your left."

The girl rushed off with both hands to her loose scrunchie. Sean's attention had not strayed from his brother, and he waited expectantly for an answer.

Hesitating, Aaron briefly flashed back to getting struck off-balance in front of the crib while Sean wailed endlessly. The man leaned over the boy on the floor. "Had enough yet? Ready to let the squirt take his own lesson?"

Unsteady, Aaron climbed back up to his feet, using the crib bars for support. He faced the man again, unshaken.

Another blow sent him crashing onto his side on the floorboards. He tried to get his hands under him, preparing to get back up again. The baby howled. Why won't you ever stop crying, Sean?

Aaron pulled himself from the past and sighed. "Your father treated me badly. That's all there is to it. I'm just telling you about him because I don't want you to go on believing a lie, even a wonderful one. I wish so much that you were my father's son, and that he could be here now, but it's simply not the truth. I'm sorry I've deceived you for so long."

Sean stood quietly taking it all in and gazing at the cabinets behind Aaron's head. He didn't look as upset as Aaron feared he would be, but he did look deeply disappointed. Finally he murmured, "Aaron. I want to go on believing I'm your brother. I want to still think of your dad as my dad."

Aaron ventured a hand on his shoulder, an uncommon gesture coming from him. "That's alright with me."

Sean leaned against the counter edge and blew out a long breath. "I guess I should get back out there. I don't know if it will be the same though."

"I'm sorry..."

Sean held up a hand. "You're right. It's probably best that you told me. I'm just... just disappointed. It might take me awhile to really process this."

"That's understandable." Aaron felt hugely relieved that Sean hadn't blown up like he did when he didn't pass his driver's license test the first time. "And Sean, don't hesitate to reach out to me with any questions you might have."

"Sure." Sean gave him a quick, almost insincere half-nod. "So tell me, Aaron. How did he die?"

"My father?"

"No, mine."

Oh, no. Don't dig up this story, Sean. You don't want to know. "I think I've told you enough shocking information for now. How about we get together sometime later and you can ask all about..."

"How did he die?"

There would be no arguing against that tone. Aaron swallowed. "He died trying to take you."

Sean seemed to steel himself. "I asked how did he die?"

Aaron had made up his mind never to tell his brother. Now he saw how foolish he had been in hiding the truth; a kid like Sean would not take no for an answer.

Wishing he could disappear, Aaron quietly answered: "I shot him."

All the color washed from Sean's face. He moved backward.

That's when his adoptive mother walked into the kitchen again and set down an empty silver tray. "I don't know about all those kids, Sean," she said as she dipped some empty cookware into the sink. "They seem a little too wild for you."

Sean said nothing. He looked ghostlike.

The woman glanced back at the two men who were locked in an intent stare. She sighed contentedly. "It just makes me so happy to see my boys sharing their time, talking together like always."

She walked over and gave Aaron a motherly hug. "I'm so glad you came. We've missed you."

She then turned and hugged Sean. "Listen to you whatever advice your brother has to give. I know he loves you."

She smiled and gazed back and forth between the two. She shook her head and chuckled lightly. "I can't believe how much you've both grown up! I'm so proud of you boys. And I know your father would have been proud."

Sean arched his eyebrow.

The woman made a self-conscious silly face. "Alright, I know when I'm interrupting. See you both later."

With that, she walked out humming "We Are Family."

Aaron stared after her, imagining, like he often did, that she had really been his mother. It was easy to resent and envy Sean for so many reasons, but those feelings had to be wrangled again.

Sean still appeared stunned. "I don't know what to say. What to think."

Aaron quickly spoke up. "I would understand if you hate me now for letting you believe a lie, if you never want to see me again. I just thought you should know the truth."

"I... I don't believe this. You shot my father?"

Aaron nodded. "He was going to kill us."

Sean looked at his shoes. "I think I should thank you. But I just feel numb."

Aaron didn't know what to say. He wished he could make them both feel better, but no words could repair a childhood of deceit and agony.

"I gotta go." Sean turned away and walked to the doorway.

"If you ever want to talk..." Aaron stopped himself. Sean had left the room.

Was it really better to tell Sean the truth? Aaron felt so torn with regret and relief. He hoped the news wouldn't have any major impact on Sean's life. He was, after all, more influenced by his adoptive family than by the memory of his parents... wasn't he?

Aaron left the room and looked into the parlor. Sean was once again the center of attention, and several friends were showing him a stack of records. Everybody talked, everybody was excited about something. Sean's adoptive father sat in an armchair near the back, watching them as he sipped his tea. To his side was the bureau with the display of pictures. Aaron looked for his father's photo, and to his dismay, he saw it laying on its face.

What had he done? What was Sean thinking now?

Aaron didn't realize it then, but today was the beginning of a growing rift between the half-brothers. Apparently there was more than different blood between them, and nothing could fix the distance that wedged between their lives.

When Aaron got accepted into the FBI academy a month later, he checked in with Sean and asked how his college plans were going. "Still getting ready for law school?"

"I don't know," was the short, uncomfortable answer.

Aaron had never before felt so upset at his stepfather for posthumously breaking the spirit of a fatherless baby. A broken family might always suffer, but Aaron knew that their legacy was a matter of choice.

"You're a Hotchner," he reminded his brother.