A/N: this story was written for a discord Spencer Reid Whumping Challenge. This chapter is very tame but it's going to get a lot darker!

It was a hot Saturday afternoon when Hotch heard knocking on his door. Outside was an antsy Reid, his long hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and his left arm clutching a brown shoulder bag. He was shifting his weight between his good and bad leg, the cane spinning in his right hand.

Hotch looked through the peephole, a cautious habit that he had acquired through his line of work and after his stabbing. Spotting Reid on the other side, he sighed. Since Haley's funeral, the team had been calling and sending messages, but he wasn't in the mood for company. Not yet. It had only been a week since he stood by her grave and spoke to family and friends about their loss. His loss. Life hasn't been easy. He was still adapting to his new role as a single father and Jack didn't understand. How could he? He was still waiting for his mom to pick him up and take him home.

He unhooked the chain and opened the door just enough for him to be able to look at Reid, but not wide enough that it would be an invitation to enter. Reid gave him a half smile.

"Strauss has some paperwork for you to sign." He opened his shoulder bag and showed Hotch the file that laid snug inside its own brown folder.

Hotch opened the door and stepped aside, giving Reid a first glimpse at the mess that was the living room. Boxes were stacked along the wall, most untouched but some already opened and spilling their contents all over the surfaces and floor beside Jack's toys.

Hotch directed Reid to the sofa in front of them and invited him to sit. Setting the papers on the table, Reid tried to tear his eyes away from them, but he couldn't. He had already looked them over, it wasn't intentional, but he couldn't help himself and now he was stuck trying to figure out if he should talk to Hotch about them or stay silent. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and flicked his eyes from the papers to Hotch, deciding to say something. It may have been none of his business, but he had to know what Hotch planned to do.

"Are you gonna accept the offer?"

Confusion flitted over Hotch's face for a brief moment before he looked down, quietly answering,

"I-I don't know"

Reid felt an anger brewing in his chest. Hotch finally had the chance of being a real father to his son and he was hesitating? Memories of his dad's last words to him before he left were hanging like a dark cloud on Reid's mind. He wouldn't let Jack go through the same.

"Wouldn't it be best for Jack? Research shows that when a child is raised in a father-absent home, they are more likely to abuse drugs and alcohol or go to prison." He said the last part a little quieter, almost ashamed for blurting it out.

Hotch was speechless. Since Strauss came by to offer him a retirement plan with full pension and benefits, he hadn't been able to focus on anything else. His nights were spent tossing and turning in his bed, thinking of all the possible outcomes. She had given him some time to think it over, to grief, but by Reid's unexpected arrival, she was getting impatient.

"Daddy!"

Jack's voice snapped him out of his current thoughts, and he blessed his son's sense of timing. The little boy came running into the living room, barely paying attention to Reid sitting on the sofa. He tugged at his dad's shirt eagerly while making his typical noises to show his dad that something was truly annoying him, and it couldn't wait.

"What is it sweetheart?" Hotch knelt down to meet Jack at eye level, stroking his hair softly as he listened to him speak.

"Daddy, you need to help me with my fort."

"What fort?"

Jack sighed and half rolled his eyes in a way only a child can get away with. Hotch smiled, recognizing the attitude from Haley.

"The fort in my room!"

"Oh! That fort!" Hotch looked back at Reid and gave him a half apologetic smile before getting up and letting Jack lead him down the hallway, to his room.

"I am just gonna go and help Jack with this and then I will be right back."

Reid watched as little Jack excitedly dragged his dad away, too eager to slow down. How were moments like these not the easy choice? To spend every day putting a smile on your son's face? Watching him grow? To witness those precious little moments that would soon fade and be forgotten. Reid felt a certain kind of sadness filling heart. Jack needed his dad.

As Hotch was reaching Jack's room, the sound of the doorbell rang through the apartment.

"Reid, can you get that for me?"

With a pained groan, Reid got up from the sofa, grabbed his cane and limped toward the door. Even though his leg was more or less healed, and the cane was more for show than actual support, he could still feel the fibers in his leg stretch and pull uncomfortably with the new movements.

He unhooked the chain and was faced with a generic middle-aged man in a standard blue delivery uniform. In his hands were a small brown package with a black clipboard resting on top. Something about this man seemed odd, but Reid couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Delivery for Aaron Hotchner?"

Reid nodded.

The delivery man moved the package with the clipboard closer to Reid so he could sign it before he nodded and handed Reid the package very carefully. Reid only had time to take a look at it before the man had turned around and disappeared down the hallway

In Jack's room, a huge pile of pillows and cushions were stacked, by the boy's best efforts, in the far corner of his room next to two chairs facing each other. The pillows and cushions were all different shapes and sizes and by the looks of it, taken from every possible room in the house. He even spotted his own pillow in the pile, stained, and wrinkled from long nights of crying himself to sleep.

He admired his son's skills. The fort looked steady and impressive. He was going to ask who had taught him when the answer presented itself with a painful realization. Haley always had a certain eye for details, and he recognized it.

"I dunno how to put roof on, daddy. Mommy used to help me"

Jack's sad and helpless demeanor tore through his heart. All he wanted to do was to make this process as easy on his son as possible, but Haley had been the main influencer through most of his childhood and Hotch was still trying to catch up.

"I was gonna wait for mommy, but I don't know when she'll be back."

Hotch gave him a sad smile. Jack hadn't quite understood the reality of death. Hotch would sometimes sit him down and explain that mommy had gone to a better place, but Jack's little mind was still struggling to comprehend that mommy couldn't come back from that place.

Hotch grabbed the sheets that Jack had already pulled out from the drawer and flipped and turned it to try and work out what way would be best before placing it on top of Jack's pile of pillows that he had built as a wall.

"No! You're doing it wrong!" Jack shouted before the whole fort collapsed in a big pile of chairs, pillows, and sheets. Hotch's heart stopped. He looked at Jack, whose lips were wobbling before he broke down crying.

He wrapped Jack in a tight hug, feeling the boy's staggered breathing on his shoulder. This was all his fault.

"I want mommy!"

"I know sweetheart, I know. It's going to be okay."

But was it? He wasn't even sure himself. He had to believe it for Jack, but the truth was that he had a hard time finding just a single ray of light in the never-ending darkness. How could he ever live up to the responsibilities of a single parent when he couldn't even build a pillow fort with his son? Jack didn't deserve him. He felt tears forcing their way through the corner of his eyes and he hugged Jack even tighter. Haley should have been here instead of him. That he was sure of.

In the living room, Reid had placed himself back on the sofa and was deeply occupied in a book that he had packed for work that morning. He always carried a book around with him because he never knew when he would get a chance to read.

As Hotch walked back through the hallway, he spotted the package on the dining room table.

"Who was at the door?"

Without even looking up from his book, Reid answered; "Just a delivery man with a package for you."

Hotch stared at the package in confusion. "I haven't ordered anything. "

He inspected the package but couldn't find a return address or note. Maybe it was from someone in Haley's family or his own? His mother had been too ill to attend the funeral and Sean, well, he hadn't seen or heard from his brother for over a year.

Slowly, Hotch peeled the package open. He wasn't expecting anything and while he had no reason to be suspicious, there was a small voice that told him to proceed with caution. FBI training to always be vigilant didn't just shut off when he was at home.

Inside the package was a black DVD case with the word 'condolences' written in bold red letters on the front cover. Hotch stared at it apprehensively before noticing a card at the bottom of the package. On the front was 'Our deepest condolences' printed in a big curvy font and on the back was a short, handwritten message; 'I am deeply sorry I could not attend the funeral. Here is a little video that I hope will put a smile on your face'

The message could be from anyone, he thought, as he picked up the DVD case and opened it. The disc inside was as plain as the case and had the same word written on it. His mom would never send him anything like that. Her knowledge of technology was minimal, and he wasn't even sure if she knew what a DVD was. Sean on the other hand, maybe.

The image of Sean filming a sympathy video for him made him giggle. The man could barely bother to send a text.

He wiped his nose and felt a sticky substance covering the palm of his hand. Annoyed, he quickly grabbed a tissue nearby and held it to his nose as it started to run uncontrollably. He hated hay fever with a vengeance. He took out the DVD from its case and grabbed the rest of the tissues before walking into the living room, excited to see what would be on the video.

Reid looked up from his book, intrigued about the item Hotch held between his fingers. He watched as he moved to the TV and inserted the item into the DVD player underneath.

"What is that?"

Hotch reached for the remote and sat down next to Reid like their conversation earlier never happened.

"Someone sent me a video."

He pressed the play button and suddenly his screen started to flicker. He smiled to himself at the thought of Sean popping up on his tv screen and making a goofy inappropriate joke, but the smile quickly disappeared when Hotch was met with his worst nightmare, staring right back at him.

George Foyet, The Reaper, sat in exactly the same outfit that he remembered him in, with his hands calmly in his lap and a grin that would make even the most insane person feel uncomfortable.

Hotch's blood ran cold. His heart was beating out of his chest, and he felt like he was back in his old house, hunting for Foyet with his heart thundering in his chest, his veins pumping ice. All he could think about was putting a bullet between Foyet's eyes, and here he was thinking about it again.

Reid looked at Hotch and felt the anger radiating from him. He stiffened, not sure how Hotch would react.

"Foyet is dead, isn't he?"

A/N: let me know what you think in the comments! :)