the beginning is the end is the beginning (25)
Title: The Beginning is the End is the Beginning (25)
Characters: Hotch, Jack, OC
Rating: T for eventualities
Summary: Following Haley's death, Hotch has to hire someone to help him take care of Jack. Both father and son have to learn to let people into their lives once again.
A/N: Obviously, this is slightly AU. Jessica is unable to care for Jack, and for the purposes of this story, Haley died at the end of the summer. Also, I've taken liberties with Hotch's home.
A/N 2: I'm always slightly nervous when I post a multi-chapter for a new fandom, especially one that involves an OC. They're dangerous territory ;P
A/N 3: I took some liberties with Hotch's backstory.
Disclaimer: None of the characters from Criminal Minds belong to me. Cara, on the other hand, does.
He kept hoping she would come back. A voice in the back of his mind told him that Cara would never just walk out on Jack, that she would have to turn around.
But the door stayed shut.
Running a hand down his face, Hotch realized that there was nothing he could do about that right now. His son was his first priority, and right now, he needed his father. He headed up the stairs with heavy legs and a heavy heart, unsure of what he would find.
Jack was sitting up in bed, tears running down his face as he clutched at his Scooby Doo. When he saw his father standing in the door, he only started to cry harder, and Hotch crossed the room quickly, scooping the little boy up in his arms and sitting down on the mattress.
"Shhhh," he whispered. "It's okay."
Jack shook his head, his voice thick as cried into his father's shoulder. "She's gonna leave, Daddy!"
His breath stuck in his throat, and he wondered just how much his son had heard of their conversation. "You mean Cara?"
Jack just nodded.
"She's not leaving, Jack," he said, trying to believe the words.
The little boy sat up, his cries louder. "I was bad, Daddy! I said mean things!"
That surprised Hotch - Jack was almost always polite and warm. Cara's words struck him again, and he realized that she was right. His son was learning to bury things, and they were exploding out of him when he couldn't hold them in anymore.
"Why did you say mean things?" he asked quietly.
"I miss Mommy," he said, his voice small and trembling.
Hotch swallowed roughly and held him tighter. "I miss her, too, buddy. But just because we hurt doesn't mean we should hurt other people." He paused. "Why didn't you tell someone that you were upset?"
Jack shrugged. "I dunno."
Hotch knew the hypocrisy of what he was about to say, but that didn't make it any less true. "We have to talk about our feelings, Jack. That's the only way we can feel better. Aunt Jessie and Cara have taught you that, haven't they?"
He nodded. "Who do you talk to, Daddy?"
He sighed. "I'm not very good at talking about my feelings either."
"Why not?"
"I'm not really sure." Hotch shrugged. "Maybe I'm afraid no one wants to listen."
"Cara listens real good. She's your friend, right, Daddy?"
He knew that she was - a good friend who had called him on his destructive behavior because she cared. "Yes, she is. How about we go find her and say we're sorry?"
The little boy sniffed and wiped at his eyes. "What if she doesn't forgive us?"
Hotch helped to clear the rest of the tears from his son's cheeks. "She'll forgive you, buddy. She knows how much you miss Mommy." He didn't add that he wasn't sure if she'd forgive him - for calling her Haley, for freezing her out and filling the house with stony silence. He just had to pray that she did.
"C'mon," he said, giving Jack a small smile. "Let's get your coat on. I bet she went to your aunt Emily's."
It took them a few minutes to get downstairs and get bundled up - the snow had started up again outside, and they had to get Jack situated with his hat and gloves and boots. Hotch tried not to think about what they would do if she was not at Emily's. It made him sick to his stomach, and he couldn't let Jack see his fears.
He pulled his cell phone out and started to dial her number, hoping to catch her before she got too far. But as he hit the last digit, his eyes fell on her phone on the counter. She had left in such a rush that she hadn't grabbed it - or a jacket. Closing the phone, he picked Jack up and grabbing his keys, heading for the door.
And stopped as soon as he had it opened.
Cara sat on the front step, arms tightly wrapped around herself as snow fell softly around her. She looked up when the door opened and wiped at her eyes, sniffing loudly.
"Hey."
He just stared at her, relieved that he wasn't going to have to hunt her down. "I thought you were gone."
Her voice was shaky. "I stomped out without my keys and the door locked behind me. And I didn't wanna knock, because I was afraid you were mad at me for the things I said."
"Oh, Cara." He set Jack down and reached out for her hand. "Come on, you must be freezing."
Her fingers were cold against his, and he cursed himself once again. But then the door closed behind them, and she was on the right side of it, and he felt some of the anxiety fall away.
"I'm sorry," she said, wiping at her face again. "I shouldn't have -"
"Yes, you should have," Hotch said firmly. "Those were things I needed to hear."
She gave him a small half shrug. "The storming out part wasn't really necessary, though."
There was a small tug on her shirt, and she looked down to see Jack standing there, his jacket still on. "Cara?"
Giving him a warm smile, she crouched down in front of him and started to unzip his coat. "Yeah, sweetie?"
"I don't want you to leave."
The genuine fear in his eyes made her pause. "Why would I leave?"
"Because I said mean things."
"Oh, sweetheart." She finished pulling off his jacket and then hugged him tightly. "We don't leave people because they hurt our feelings once in awhile. You're family, and I love you."
"I'm sorry."
She hugged him tighter. "It's okay. I know you miss your Mommy." She pulled back and pushed the hair from his eyes. "But you can always talk to me about that, okay? I'm not gonna get mad, and it's not gonna hurt my feelings." She paused. "I miss my Mommy still, too."
"Where is she?"
Cara felt her own tears building, but she fought them back as best she could. "She died a long time ago."
"Did a bad man hurt her?"
She shook her head. "No. There was a really bad car accident."
Jack hugged her again, squeezing tightly. "S'okay, Cara," he said, patting her back.
She couldn't help but laugh lightly as a few tears escaped. "Thank you, sweetie." She took a deep breath, steadying herself once again. "You hungry?" He nodded. "Good! How about some spaghetti?"
"I love s'getti!!"
She poked his nose. "I know you do. Why don't you hang up your stuff and I'll start cooking?"
"Okay!"
He grabbed his things and raced toward the closet, and Cara pushed herself back to her feet, chuckling at him. Turning, she found Hotch staring at her intently.
"You do well with him," he said quietly. "I owe you an apology as well…and a few explanations."
She reached out and squeezed his arm. "That might take awhile. How about we have dinner and put Jack to bed first? Then maybe we could have a drink and talk."
He nodded, forcing himself to meet her eyes. "Maybe it's time for those five questions."
Cara nodded, chest warming at the idea that he might open up to her a little more. "I think it might be."
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"He's out," Hotch said, coming down the stairs in a t-shirt and sweats. "He must have been exhausted."
"He had an emotionally trying day," Cara replied. "Those are usually draining." She held out a bottle. "Beer work for you?"
He nodded and took the drink, trying to quell the vicious butterflies in his stomach. He still feared explaining things to her, worried that she wouldn't understand, or that she'd keep him at a distance for the way he had treated her in the past few weeks. But they couldn't avoid this anymore. He couldn't ask her to live like this.
They settled on the couch, for awhile just drinking their beers and enjoying the quiet. Cara stared out at the snow still falling, waiting for Hotch to make the first move. This had to be done at his pace, and he had to figure out what he was comfortable sharing.
"I want you to know that I am sorry," he finally started, his voice low and quiet. "I'm very sorry. For the way I've been acting, and…" He took a deep breath. "And for calling you Haley."
Fixing her eyes on him, Cara turned on her side, leaning her head against the back cushion of the couch. "I don't hold the name slip against you, Hotch. It happens."
"It shouldn't have."
"I don't understand why you're punishing yourself for that. She was a major part of your life. She gave you your son. She's still hardwired into parts of your brain and heart."
His eyes were distant as he stared across the room. "By the end of our marriage, my job was a major sticking point. When we argued, it always came back to that. It felt...it felt like every time it came up, she was attacking me for it - suggesting that I wasn't a good enough husband, or father." He shook his head. "I went on the defensive with you right away, because it's what I was used to."
"There's a difference, though. Between attacking you and bringing up something that needs to be talked about."
"I know."
Silence fell once again, but it wasn't as tense as it had been before. Hotch knew that the conversation from here on out wouldn't be easy, but they had already gotten through one difficult part, and she was still there.
"Do you want to tell me about the case?" she finally asked, her voice hushed.
He shook his head. "No." After a beat, he gave her a wry look. "I probably need to, though."
Cara searched his eyes. "Was it the victims or the killer that got to you?"
"Both." Hotch took a drink and forged ahead. "He was targeting widowers. He would..." He swallowed hard. "I hate bringing this home."
"It follows you home, Hotch. It always will. You're not going to scare me or give me nightmares...but you will destroy yourself and the people who love you if you try to carry this alone."
"I thought I was doing the right thing."
Cara gave him a small smirk. "Well, live and learn. The stoic not-sharing thing isn't working for you. Let's try something different."
He didn't return her small bit of humor, but he did nod, seemingly working his way through what she had said. After a few moments, he started speaking again.
"The killer didn't go after just any widowers. He chose those who had moved on, started new lives. He would hunt the entire family, eventually breaking in and tying them all up. Then he would force the husband to watch everyone die - his new wife, his children...even the family pets. And then he would just leave them there, to carry that burden that they had lost everything all over again."
His voice was beginning to break, the muscles in his face moving as he sought to control his feelings. Cara reached out and rested her hand on his arm, squeezing tightly.
"We caught him just as he was about to kill another family. It was luck. And Prentiss' good instincts. But he was so...normal. I expected there to be some outward sign that he was a man who hated himself, who was angry with other people who had moved on. But instead...he was every inch the normal suburban family man. He had lost his first wife to cancer and then remarried a few years later. They had children together, a happy home."
"He had moved on."
Hotch shook his head. "Only on the outside. He was punishing these men for doing exactly what he himself had done. Eventually, that wouldn't have been enough. Eventually...eventually he would have killed his entire family."
She squeezed his arm again. She was horrified at what that man had done, but the only one who mattered right then was the man sitting next to her. "You saved them."
"Physically," he agreed. "But with what they have to live with now...the knowledge of how he really felt inside about their life together..."
"But they survived, Hotch. Because of you and your team. And yeah...life is gonna suck for awhile. Yeah, they have a lot of crap to work through. But when it comes down to it, people are resilient. We can work our way through most anything. They have the chance to do that now. They have a chance to rebuild their lives and start over. And that chance is everything."
Like Jack, he thought. Living with the knowledge that his mother had been killed, with the memory of hearing the gunshot...Hotch knew that that was scarring. But his son had survived, and because of that, he had a chance to build a happy life. Scars could heal.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
"I know the tough cases make it harder. But calling Jack during those is probably what you need. To remind you that you're not in this alone. That you have someone to come home to."
His lips quirked upward slightly. "That might take some practice."
"We can be patient."
He nodded, reaching over and squeezing the hand that was on his arm. It had been a long time since he had felt like he wasn't alone. And now he was starting to realize that his exile had been self-imposed. He had a home and a family. He had friends. He wasn't the lonely Atlas holding the world on his shoulders.
"Think we can handle those five questions now?" he asked.
"I don't know. That's a lot of sharing in one night for you, Aaron Hotchner."
He shrugged. "Makes it easier knowing you'll have to share as well."
She grimaced. "Touche." Taking a deep breath, she nodded. "Hit me."
There were things he wanted to know, but he didn't want to hit her with a hard one right off the bat. "What was the happiest time in your life?"
She paused - that definitely wasn't the question she had been expecting. But the answer was easy, and she gave him a warm smile.
"College."
"Why?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Is that your second question?"
"I think explanations are a given here."
Cara stuck her tongue out at him, secretly pleased with how much he had relaxed. "Fine. It was my first time out and away from my family. Totally and completely free. I found an a capella singing group my freshman year, and they were great. We were a family, and we travelled, and we sang, and we were really, really good. We even went to Ireland my senior year. I just really found my footing then."
He gave her a small smile. "I didn't know you sang in a group. You never thought of going professional?"
She shook her head. "Singing is mine, and I never want that to change. Alright...my turn.” She tapped her chin. “Tell me about your family.”
“That doesn’t sound like a question.”
“No dodging, Hotch.”
He gave her a playful look. “Fine. I have one brother. His name is Sean, and he’s younger than I am.”
“No other siblings?”
Hotch shook his head. “Just Sean.”
“And what about your parents?”
“They’re both dead. My father had a heart attack when he was still pretty young. He was a lawyer, and threw himself into his work.”
Cara smirked. “Sounds familiar.”
“Trust me, I see the irony.”
“What about your mom?”
One side of his mouth twitched, and Cara thought that might have been a grimace. “She was...a difficult woman. She passed a few years ago. Cancer.”
“I’m sorry.”
He simply nodded. “My turn?”
“Your turn.”
“Who was the first love of your life?”
She briefly closed her eyes. She knew that questions about her family would arise, but she hadn’t been expecting this one. Truth be told, she hadn’t even thought about this one in a long time, and it amazed her how strong the feelings still were.
She just wished they were happier ones.
“Nathan Berry,” she finally said, opening her eyes again to find Hotch watching her intently. “We started going out our sophomore year of high school.”
He heard layers of story underneath her voice. “But you’re not together anymore.”
“No. We broke up my freshman year of college. We...” She took a deep breath. “The church has always been important to me,” she said, her voice quieter, slower. “I took the Bible to heart, and I wanted to save myself for marriage. Nathan agreed. Until our senior year, at least.”
Hotch swallowed, and realized that his fists were clenched tightly. “What happened?”
She didn’t meet his eyes. “He told me that we were gonna get married anyway. That a marriage license was just a piece of paper for the government. That what was important was what was in our hearts. He kept at me for months.” She shrugged. “And eventually I gave in.” She could feel the tears building, and she shook her head, fighting them back. “I hated it. I felt so dirty, because we could have waited. We should have. But once you give in once...I felt guilty every time he touched me. I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror. When I finally went to college and learned to stand on my own two feet, I realized that he had taken advantage of me, manipulated me...and I had let it happen. So I ended things.” She looked down at her hands, not wanting to see how he was looking at her. “I promised myself then and there that I would never compromise my beliefs again. And if that means that a guy doesn’t want to be with me...then so be it.”
Hotch could feel the tension in her body, and he knew that she was afraid of his reaction. Looking down, he saw her hand still resting on his arm, and for the second time that night, he reached for it, sensing that she needed something concrete to hold on to.
“You’re not asking for too much,” he assured her.
“Oh really?” she asked, finally looking up and giving him a rueful smile. “What guy would wait at this point in his life?”
“I would,” he said firmly. “And so will the right man for you.”
Her smile turned warm. “Thanks, Hotch,” she said, squeezing his hand. “Can I ask you a hard one now?”
He nodded, inwardly steeling himself.
“Did you fight to keep Haley?”
He took a shaky breath in, letting go of her hand. No one had asked him that question out loud before, but it was one that had echoed in his mind ever since she had left.
“No. I didn’t know how to,” he admitted. “And I was afraid that she would leave no matter what I did.”
Cara nodded, not pushing. The answer explained a lot about the man sitting next to her, and she saw relief in his eyes when she stayed quiet.
“Why did you really come back on Christmas day?” he finally asked.
After everything else she had shared with him, Cara thought that maybe this was getting easier. “My dad has been a raging alcoholic since I was a kid. Emphasis on the raging.” he shook her head. “I went home, and everything just fell back into that old routine. He would yell, I would keep my voice calm and try to steer the conversation to safer waters. He would insult me, I would act like they just bounced off of me. He would pass out and I would clean up his messes. I just didn’t want to do it anymore. And I had somewhere else I could be. Somewhere where I would at least get a hug and a smile in return.”
Hotch searched her face. “He hurt you. Physically.”
She took a breath, letting it out slowly. “He hasn’t hit me since the end of high school. But he did grab me, bruising me. And I just couldn’t stay.”
Anger built up inside of him, but he pushed it away. This wasn’t the time to let emotion run over - it was just a quiet sharing between two people that had seen more damage than most.
Cara looked up at him, a smile on her face. “Do you ever just bum around?”
The question hit him unawares, and he actually chuckled. “What?”
“I always see you in your suits and with your briefcase, or with your files spread out across the dining room table. But I’ve never seen you just have a lazy day.”
“I’m not generally a lazy person.”
“True. But all work and no play leads to men following in their father’s unfortunate footsteps.”
That struck a chord. “Touche.” He paused. “Alright. Tomorrow. You, me and Jack. We’ll stay in, play in the snow, watch movies...unless, of course, you have plans.”
“Please. My life pretty much revolves around you Hotchner men.” She yawned, eyes sliding shut. “I’m tired, Hotch.”
He nodded, feeling the exhaustion flood through him. It had been a long day, not to mention a desperate few weeks. “Save our last two questions for another time?”
“Agreed.”
Cara got to her feet and then extended her hands, helping him up as well. Without letting herself think about it, she slid her arms around his torso and hugged him tightly. She wanted him to know that they were okay, that nothing he had confessed had frightened her away. And when he hugged her back, she closed her eyes and breathed him in.
Pulling back, she leaned up and kissed him softly on the cheek. “Goodnight, Aaron.”
She was at the foot of the stairs by the time he spoke.
“Sleep well, Cara.”
Looking back over her shoulder, she smiled at him. “You too.”
Characters: Hotch, Jack, OC
Rating: T for eventualities
Summary: Following Haley's death, Hotch has to hire someone to help him take care of Jack. Both father and son have to learn to let people into their lives once again.
A/N: Obviously, this is slightly AU. Jessica is unable to care for Jack, and for the purposes of this story, Haley died at the end of the summer. Also, I've taken liberties with Hotch's home.
A/N 2: I'm always slightly nervous when I post a multi-chapter for a new fandom, especially one that involves an OC. They're dangerous territory ;P
A/N 3: I took some liberties with Hotch's backstory.
Disclaimer: None of the characters from Criminal Minds belong to me. Cara, on the other hand, does.
He kept hoping she would come back. A voice in the back of his mind told him that Cara would never just walk out on Jack, that she would have to turn around.
But the door stayed shut.
Running a hand down his face, Hotch realized that there was nothing he could do about that right now. His son was his first priority, and right now, he needed his father. He headed up the stairs with heavy legs and a heavy heart, unsure of what he would find.
Jack was sitting up in bed, tears running down his face as he clutched at his Scooby Doo. When he saw his father standing in the door, he only started to cry harder, and Hotch crossed the room quickly, scooping the little boy up in his arms and sitting down on the mattress.
"Shhhh," he whispered. "It's okay."
Jack shook his head, his voice thick as cried into his father's shoulder. "She's gonna leave, Daddy!"
His breath stuck in his throat, and he wondered just how much his son had heard of their conversation. "You mean Cara?"
Jack just nodded.
"She's not leaving, Jack," he said, trying to believe the words.
The little boy sat up, his cries louder. "I was bad, Daddy! I said mean things!"
That surprised Hotch - Jack was almost always polite and warm. Cara's words struck him again, and he realized that she was right. His son was learning to bury things, and they were exploding out of him when he couldn't hold them in anymore.
"Why did you say mean things?" he asked quietly.
"I miss Mommy," he said, his voice small and trembling.
Hotch swallowed roughly and held him tighter. "I miss her, too, buddy. But just because we hurt doesn't mean we should hurt other people." He paused. "Why didn't you tell someone that you were upset?"
Jack shrugged. "I dunno."
Hotch knew the hypocrisy of what he was about to say, but that didn't make it any less true. "We have to talk about our feelings, Jack. That's the only way we can feel better. Aunt Jessie and Cara have taught you that, haven't they?"
He nodded. "Who do you talk to, Daddy?"
He sighed. "I'm not very good at talking about my feelings either."
"Why not?"
"I'm not really sure." Hotch shrugged. "Maybe I'm afraid no one wants to listen."
"Cara listens real good. She's your friend, right, Daddy?"
He knew that she was - a good friend who had called him on his destructive behavior because she cared. "Yes, she is. How about we go find her and say we're sorry?"
The little boy sniffed and wiped at his eyes. "What if she doesn't forgive us?"
Hotch helped to clear the rest of the tears from his son's cheeks. "She'll forgive you, buddy. She knows how much you miss Mommy." He didn't add that he wasn't sure if she'd forgive him - for calling her Haley, for freezing her out and filling the house with stony silence. He just had to pray that she did.
"C'mon," he said, giving Jack a small smile. "Let's get your coat on. I bet she went to your aunt Emily's."
It took them a few minutes to get downstairs and get bundled up - the snow had started up again outside, and they had to get Jack situated with his hat and gloves and boots. Hotch tried not to think about what they would do if she was not at Emily's. It made him sick to his stomach, and he couldn't let Jack see his fears.
He pulled his cell phone out and started to dial her number, hoping to catch her before she got too far. But as he hit the last digit, his eyes fell on her phone on the counter. She had left in such a rush that she hadn't grabbed it - or a jacket. Closing the phone, he picked Jack up and grabbing his keys, heading for the door.
And stopped as soon as he had it opened.
Cara sat on the front step, arms tightly wrapped around herself as snow fell softly around her. She looked up when the door opened and wiped at her eyes, sniffing loudly.
"Hey."
He just stared at her, relieved that he wasn't going to have to hunt her down. "I thought you were gone."
Her voice was shaky. "I stomped out without my keys and the door locked behind me. And I didn't wanna knock, because I was afraid you were mad at me for the things I said."
"Oh, Cara." He set Jack down and reached out for her hand. "Come on, you must be freezing."
Her fingers were cold against his, and he cursed himself once again. But then the door closed behind them, and she was on the right side of it, and he felt some of the anxiety fall away.
"I'm sorry," she said, wiping at her face again. "I shouldn't have -"
"Yes, you should have," Hotch said firmly. "Those were things I needed to hear."
She gave him a small half shrug. "The storming out part wasn't really necessary, though."
There was a small tug on her shirt, and she looked down to see Jack standing there, his jacket still on. "Cara?"
Giving him a warm smile, she crouched down in front of him and started to unzip his coat. "Yeah, sweetie?"
"I don't want you to leave."
The genuine fear in his eyes made her pause. "Why would I leave?"
"Because I said mean things."
"Oh, sweetheart." She finished pulling off his jacket and then hugged him tightly. "We don't leave people because they hurt our feelings once in awhile. You're family, and I love you."
"I'm sorry."
She hugged him tighter. "It's okay. I know you miss your Mommy." She pulled back and pushed the hair from his eyes. "But you can always talk to me about that, okay? I'm not gonna get mad, and it's not gonna hurt my feelings." She paused. "I miss my Mommy still, too."
"Where is she?"
Cara felt her own tears building, but she fought them back as best she could. "She died a long time ago."
"Did a bad man hurt her?"
She shook her head. "No. There was a really bad car accident."
Jack hugged her again, squeezing tightly. "S'okay, Cara," he said, patting her back.
She couldn't help but laugh lightly as a few tears escaped. "Thank you, sweetie." She took a deep breath, steadying herself once again. "You hungry?" He nodded. "Good! How about some spaghetti?"
"I love s'getti!!"
She poked his nose. "I know you do. Why don't you hang up your stuff and I'll start cooking?"
"Okay!"
He grabbed his things and raced toward the closet, and Cara pushed herself back to her feet, chuckling at him. Turning, she found Hotch staring at her intently.
"You do well with him," he said quietly. "I owe you an apology as well…and a few explanations."
She reached out and squeezed his arm. "That might take awhile. How about we have dinner and put Jack to bed first? Then maybe we could have a drink and talk."
He nodded, forcing himself to meet her eyes. "Maybe it's time for those five questions."
Cara nodded, chest warming at the idea that he might open up to her a little more. "I think it might be."
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"He's out," Hotch said, coming down the stairs in a t-shirt and sweats. "He must have been exhausted."
"He had an emotionally trying day," Cara replied. "Those are usually draining." She held out a bottle. "Beer work for you?"
He nodded and took the drink, trying to quell the vicious butterflies in his stomach. He still feared explaining things to her, worried that she wouldn't understand, or that she'd keep him at a distance for the way he had treated her in the past few weeks. But they couldn't avoid this anymore. He couldn't ask her to live like this.
They settled on the couch, for awhile just drinking their beers and enjoying the quiet. Cara stared out at the snow still falling, waiting for Hotch to make the first move. This had to be done at his pace, and he had to figure out what he was comfortable sharing.
"I want you to know that I am sorry," he finally started, his voice low and quiet. "I'm very sorry. For the way I've been acting, and…" He took a deep breath. "And for calling you Haley."
Fixing her eyes on him, Cara turned on her side, leaning her head against the back cushion of the couch. "I don't hold the name slip against you, Hotch. It happens."
"It shouldn't have."
"I don't understand why you're punishing yourself for that. She was a major part of your life. She gave you your son. She's still hardwired into parts of your brain and heart."
His eyes were distant as he stared across the room. "By the end of our marriage, my job was a major sticking point. When we argued, it always came back to that. It felt...it felt like every time it came up, she was attacking me for it - suggesting that I wasn't a good enough husband, or father." He shook his head. "I went on the defensive with you right away, because it's what I was used to."
"There's a difference, though. Between attacking you and bringing up something that needs to be talked about."
"I know."
Silence fell once again, but it wasn't as tense as it had been before. Hotch knew that the conversation from here on out wouldn't be easy, but they had already gotten through one difficult part, and she was still there.
"Do you want to tell me about the case?" she finally asked, her voice hushed.
He shook his head. "No." After a beat, he gave her a wry look. "I probably need to, though."
Cara searched his eyes. "Was it the victims or the killer that got to you?"
"Both." Hotch took a drink and forged ahead. "He was targeting widowers. He would..." He swallowed hard. "I hate bringing this home."
"It follows you home, Hotch. It always will. You're not going to scare me or give me nightmares...but you will destroy yourself and the people who love you if you try to carry this alone."
"I thought I was doing the right thing."
Cara gave him a small smirk. "Well, live and learn. The stoic not-sharing thing isn't working for you. Let's try something different."
He didn't return her small bit of humor, but he did nod, seemingly working his way through what she had said. After a few moments, he started speaking again.
"The killer didn't go after just any widowers. He chose those who had moved on, started new lives. He would hunt the entire family, eventually breaking in and tying them all up. Then he would force the husband to watch everyone die - his new wife, his children...even the family pets. And then he would just leave them there, to carry that burden that they had lost everything all over again."
His voice was beginning to break, the muscles in his face moving as he sought to control his feelings. Cara reached out and rested her hand on his arm, squeezing tightly.
"We caught him just as he was about to kill another family. It was luck. And Prentiss' good instincts. But he was so...normal. I expected there to be some outward sign that he was a man who hated himself, who was angry with other people who had moved on. But instead...he was every inch the normal suburban family man. He had lost his first wife to cancer and then remarried a few years later. They had children together, a happy home."
"He had moved on."
Hotch shook his head. "Only on the outside. He was punishing these men for doing exactly what he himself had done. Eventually, that wouldn't have been enough. Eventually...eventually he would have killed his entire family."
She squeezed his arm again. She was horrified at what that man had done, but the only one who mattered right then was the man sitting next to her. "You saved them."
"Physically," he agreed. "But with what they have to live with now...the knowledge of how he really felt inside about their life together..."
"But they survived, Hotch. Because of you and your team. And yeah...life is gonna suck for awhile. Yeah, they have a lot of crap to work through. But when it comes down to it, people are resilient. We can work our way through most anything. They have the chance to do that now. They have a chance to rebuild their lives and start over. And that chance is everything."
Like Jack, he thought. Living with the knowledge that his mother had been killed, with the memory of hearing the gunshot...Hotch knew that that was scarring. But his son had survived, and because of that, he had a chance to build a happy life. Scars could heal.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
"I know the tough cases make it harder. But calling Jack during those is probably what you need. To remind you that you're not in this alone. That you have someone to come home to."
His lips quirked upward slightly. "That might take some practice."
"We can be patient."
He nodded, reaching over and squeezing the hand that was on his arm. It had been a long time since he had felt like he wasn't alone. And now he was starting to realize that his exile had been self-imposed. He had a home and a family. He had friends. He wasn't the lonely Atlas holding the world on his shoulders.
"Think we can handle those five questions now?" he asked.
"I don't know. That's a lot of sharing in one night for you, Aaron Hotchner."
He shrugged. "Makes it easier knowing you'll have to share as well."
She grimaced. "Touche." Taking a deep breath, she nodded. "Hit me."
There were things he wanted to know, but he didn't want to hit her with a hard one right off the bat. "What was the happiest time in your life?"
She paused - that definitely wasn't the question she had been expecting. But the answer was easy, and she gave him a warm smile.
"College."
"Why?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Is that your second question?"
"I think explanations are a given here."
Cara stuck her tongue out at him, secretly pleased with how much he had relaxed. "Fine. It was my first time out and away from my family. Totally and completely free. I found an a capella singing group my freshman year, and they were great. We were a family, and we travelled, and we sang, and we were really, really good. We even went to Ireland my senior year. I just really found my footing then."
He gave her a small smile. "I didn't know you sang in a group. You never thought of going professional?"
She shook her head. "Singing is mine, and I never want that to change. Alright...my turn.” She tapped her chin. “Tell me about your family.”
“That doesn’t sound like a question.”
“No dodging, Hotch.”
He gave her a playful look. “Fine. I have one brother. His name is Sean, and he’s younger than I am.”
“No other siblings?”
Hotch shook his head. “Just Sean.”
“And what about your parents?”
“They’re both dead. My father had a heart attack when he was still pretty young. He was a lawyer, and threw himself into his work.”
Cara smirked. “Sounds familiar.”
“Trust me, I see the irony.”
“What about your mom?”
One side of his mouth twitched, and Cara thought that might have been a grimace. “She was...a difficult woman. She passed a few years ago. Cancer.”
“I’m sorry.”
He simply nodded. “My turn?”
“Your turn.”
“Who was the first love of your life?”
She briefly closed her eyes. She knew that questions about her family would arise, but she hadn’t been expecting this one. Truth be told, she hadn’t even thought about this one in a long time, and it amazed her how strong the feelings still were.
She just wished they were happier ones.
“Nathan Berry,” she finally said, opening her eyes again to find Hotch watching her intently. “We started going out our sophomore year of high school.”
He heard layers of story underneath her voice. “But you’re not together anymore.”
“No. We broke up my freshman year of college. We...” She took a deep breath. “The church has always been important to me,” she said, her voice quieter, slower. “I took the Bible to heart, and I wanted to save myself for marriage. Nathan agreed. Until our senior year, at least.”
Hotch swallowed, and realized that his fists were clenched tightly. “What happened?”
She didn’t meet his eyes. “He told me that we were gonna get married anyway. That a marriage license was just a piece of paper for the government. That what was important was what was in our hearts. He kept at me for months.” She shrugged. “And eventually I gave in.” She could feel the tears building, and she shook her head, fighting them back. “I hated it. I felt so dirty, because we could have waited. We should have. But once you give in once...I felt guilty every time he touched me. I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror. When I finally went to college and learned to stand on my own two feet, I realized that he had taken advantage of me, manipulated me...and I had let it happen. So I ended things.” She looked down at her hands, not wanting to see how he was looking at her. “I promised myself then and there that I would never compromise my beliefs again. And if that means that a guy doesn’t want to be with me...then so be it.”
Hotch could feel the tension in her body, and he knew that she was afraid of his reaction. Looking down, he saw her hand still resting on his arm, and for the second time that night, he reached for it, sensing that she needed something concrete to hold on to.
“You’re not asking for too much,” he assured her.
“Oh really?” she asked, finally looking up and giving him a rueful smile. “What guy would wait at this point in his life?”
“I would,” he said firmly. “And so will the right man for you.”
Her smile turned warm. “Thanks, Hotch,” she said, squeezing his hand. “Can I ask you a hard one now?”
He nodded, inwardly steeling himself.
“Did you fight to keep Haley?”
He took a shaky breath in, letting go of her hand. No one had asked him that question out loud before, but it was one that had echoed in his mind ever since she had left.
“No. I didn’t know how to,” he admitted. “And I was afraid that she would leave no matter what I did.”
Cara nodded, not pushing. The answer explained a lot about the man sitting next to her, and she saw relief in his eyes when she stayed quiet.
“Why did you really come back on Christmas day?” he finally asked.
After everything else she had shared with him, Cara thought that maybe this was getting easier. “My dad has been a raging alcoholic since I was a kid. Emphasis on the raging.” he shook her head. “I went home, and everything just fell back into that old routine. He would yell, I would keep my voice calm and try to steer the conversation to safer waters. He would insult me, I would act like they just bounced off of me. He would pass out and I would clean up his messes. I just didn’t want to do it anymore. And I had somewhere else I could be. Somewhere where I would at least get a hug and a smile in return.”
Hotch searched her face. “He hurt you. Physically.”
She took a breath, letting it out slowly. “He hasn’t hit me since the end of high school. But he did grab me, bruising me. And I just couldn’t stay.”
Anger built up inside of him, but he pushed it away. This wasn’t the time to let emotion run over - it was just a quiet sharing between two people that had seen more damage than most.
Cara looked up at him, a smile on her face. “Do you ever just bum around?”
The question hit him unawares, and he actually chuckled. “What?”
“I always see you in your suits and with your briefcase, or with your files spread out across the dining room table. But I’ve never seen you just have a lazy day.”
“I’m not generally a lazy person.”
“True. But all work and no play leads to men following in their father’s unfortunate footsteps.”
That struck a chord. “Touche.” He paused. “Alright. Tomorrow. You, me and Jack. We’ll stay in, play in the snow, watch movies...unless, of course, you have plans.”
“Please. My life pretty much revolves around you Hotchner men.” She yawned, eyes sliding shut. “I’m tired, Hotch.”
He nodded, feeling the exhaustion flood through him. It had been a long day, not to mention a desperate few weeks. “Save our last two questions for another time?”
“Agreed.”
Cara got to her feet and then extended her hands, helping him up as well. Without letting herself think about it, she slid her arms around his torso and hugged him tightly. She wanted him to know that they were okay, that nothing he had confessed had frightened her away. And when he hugged her back, she closed her eyes and breathed him in.
Pulling back, she leaned up and kissed him softly on the cheek. “Goodnight, Aaron.”
She was at the foot of the stairs by the time he spoke.
“Sleep well, Cara.”
Looking back over her shoulder, she smiled at him. “You too.”