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I really enjoyed writing this chapter, and I hope you enjoy reading it! Happy reading! =)

"...behind all your stories is always your mother's story, because hers is where yours begin." – Mitch Albom, For One More Day

"Hey mom?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

"Ugh. You just have to make that joke every time, don't you? I'm trying to be serious and initiate a conversation with my own mother and I'm being mocked for my efforts. It's no wonder today's youth are accused of being inside our own heads all the time and prefer to escape into technology."

She raises her eyebrow, crosses her arms, and fixes me with a knowing stare in response.

"Okay, that might have been a bit of a dramatization," I admit.

"You think?"

"Well at least I'm not cursing at you."

"As if you'd even try it. Your father would no doubt have you face down on the ground, and a boot on your back before I could even think of doing the same. And rest assured I could definitely do the same."

"You know it, boy!" Dad calls from the other room.

I shake my head at his antics, "Too true. But you two are starting to get old. I might have the upper hand this time around."

She raises her eyebrow once more, "Did you just call your mother old?"

"Uhh, did I? I didn't hear anything like that."

"I thought not."

"Okay, okay. Can we talk though?"

Her eyes narrow slightly, "How much is it going to cost me?"

"Why do you assume it's going to cost money? Maybe I just wanted to sit down and have a chat with my lovely mother."

"Mmhmm. How much?"

I sigh dramatically in defeat – she can always sense bullshit a mile away, "Several thousand."

"WHAT!?" I hear Dad yell from the other room. "What did you do?!"

"You did that on purpose, didn't you? Just to get a rise out of him. That was unwise, Matty. Very, very unwise."

I can't help the chuckle that escapes my mouth, "I think he'll be okay with this expenditure."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, I dare say he might even approve of it."

She raises an eyebrow again and I just grin in response.

"Out with it already, Matthew!" she exclaims, gesturing her arms wildly to emphasize her point.

"I got in," I say simply, my tone barely above a whisper.

"You did?" her response sounds almost breathless.

"Yep. I got a decent scholarship too, but it's not going to cover the whole tuition and housing costs, so I need a couple grand to cover it," I say quickly, the words tumbling out of my mouth. I can feel the wide smile plastered across my face.

She throws her arms around me and squeezes tightly. The hug is tighter and lasts longer than your average everyday hug, but then again this isn't your average everyday hug. When she finally releases me, I see a wide grin on her face and nothing but pride and love in her eyes.

"I'll take that as a "Yes, Matty, your father and I would be happy to help fund your educational endeavors" yeah?" I say cheekily, partially breaking the moment's emotional depth.

"You are absolutely incorrigible, you know that?" she says with a laugh.

"Where do you think I get it from? I've heard the stories of one Miss Emily Prentiss as a teenager."

"You did not," she says as her face instantly shifts to a mix of worry and embarrassment.

"Oh, but I did. Grandma was more than happy to share," I say with a grin.

She glares at me for a moment before raising her gaze to the heavens and spouting off what I can only guess is a string of colourful curses in what I think is German.

"What exactly did she tell you?" she asks as her gaze drops from the ceiling to me once more.

"Oh just a few things here and there. Maybe a bit about a certain preference for excessive black makeup and nail polish during your teenaged years, a certain stash of cigarettes that was found in your room, and of course a bit about a few drunken phone calls she received while you were in college."

"Damn princess, you were quite the rebellious youngster, weren't you?" Dad calls from the other room.

"Oh shut it, you!" she calls in response. "As for you, young man. My immature antics are no indication of my expectations for your behaviour. Is that understood?"

"Bien sûr," I reply, slipping into French momentarily. "When I'm drunk and/or high I'll make sure to call Dad and not you."

"MATTHEW!"

"Sorry Mom. Couldn't resist," I say with a chuckle.

"Unbelievable. The woman spends my entire youth ignoring me, and is now spending my entire adulthood embarrassing me," she mutters under her breath.

"She didn't ignore you as much as you might think – how else would she have these stories?"

Her mouth opens and closes quickly.

"Don't say anything you're gonna regret, princess," I hear Dad call from the other room.

"If you're gonna listen in, why don't you just join us in here, old man," she fires back quickly.

"Who are you calling an old man, old lady?" he says as he enters the kitchen where we're now leaning against the counter. He presses a gentle kiss to her temple and moves to stand in front of me, with an expectant look.

I grin widely in response.

"You really got in?"

"Yep. What can I say? Your baby boy's a genius."

"More like a smart ass," I hear Mom mutter.

"You're lucky you got your mother's brains, kid."

"Yeah, I guess I am," I say with a smirk, which he sees and responds to by throwing an elbow to my ribs.

"Give me a freaking hug already," he says opening his arms. I oblige his request, wrapping my arms around him.

"We are so proud of you, kid. Do you hear me? So proud of you."

"Hey, I need to breathe here, otherwise all that studying will have been for nothing."

"Okay, okay, okay. Do you hear this Em? This is what I get for trying to show a little love," he says as he relinquishes his hold on me.

"Oh quit being dramatic, Dad."

He just laughs in response and gives Mom another kiss as he wraps his arms around her.

"Anyway, I gotta go, there's a ton of people I still have to tell.

"Just one more hug, Matty. Please?" Mom says in a quiet tone that makes her sound small. According to Dad, she's become more affectionate over the years. He says a switch really flipped for her just before she left the BAU, and affection stopped being a foreign concept to her. I wouldn't have known any different, she's always had a hug or kiss ready for me since I can remember.

She steps out of Dad's arms and I wrap my own arms around her tightly and close my eyes, letting the moment wash over me. She shifts slightly, presses a kiss to my cheek and whispers in my ear, "I love you, Matty."

I smile and hug her a little tighter as I respond, "I love you too, Mom."

She reluctantly lets go and I see a shimmer in her eyes. I can count on one hand the number of times I've seen her cry, so to see that moisture in her eyes means this is big.

"Aw, Mom. Please don't cry."

"I'm not. I promise. I'm fine. Text your sister and tell her we're taking the two of you out for dinner. We've got to celebrate."

I grab my phone from my pocket and quickly tap out a text message to Tegan as I walk out of the kitchen. As I head toward my room and wait for a response, I overhear the conversation between my parents.

"Best decision we ever made," Mom says with pride clear in her voice.

"Second best," Dad amends. "He and his sister wouldn't have even been in the cards if you hadn't given me a chance."

I hear the air ring with her laughter, "Too right, Derek Morgan. Too right."

This one's for all those Morgan-Prentiss shippers. Be excited, the conversation you've been waiting for between those two has been written... I'm just tweaking it a bit.

For those who don't speak French, "bien sûr" means "of course".

As always, I'd absolutely LOVE to hear your thoughts if you have the time...