Title: Seedy Bar
By: dancerindisguise
Pairing: Prentiss/Hotch
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I wish I owned Hotch. Unfortunately for me, I don't own much other than my MacBook and an overzealous imagination that likes to upset fictional characters.
Summary: A case affects Hotch a little more than he wants it to. Hotch-centric with a little Emily and everyone's favourite little kid - Jack!

***

It had been a bad week. The BAU team's last case had led them to Denver where they had tracked down a child abductor who had sexually abused over fifteen kids before they caught him. The last child, Jeremy Harris, had hit Aaron Hotchner hard. He was a spitting image of Jack at three – dark, messy hair, curious wide eyes and a brilliant smile, and Hotch had been struck by how this could have been his very own son. He found himself hoping against his better judgement that the UnSub would go down swinging just so he could hit him at least once. Just once.

Which still didn't explain why he was hanging out in a seedy bar a block away from the office.

He did not usually drink much. He did not enjoy being drunk, did not feel that being inebriated would help in solving whatever problem it was that he was trying to drink into oblivion. He had managed to compartmentalise most of the sights that he saw working for the BAU, but somehow, Jack and Jack's face pierced through all that.

It could just as well have been Jack. That was what he hated.

Which was probably why he was downing shot after shot at the seedy bar a block away from the office. He didn't want to go home; all he had there was extra paperwork which he wasn't even supposed to bring home and dirty laundry.

So here he was, leaning against the oily bar, calling the bartender over to get another shot. The bar was sparsely populated, probably due to the overbearing stench of cigarette smoke and lack of remotely comfortable seating, and whoever else was there didn't seem to want to talk. That was fine by him.

He wondered what he would have done if it had actually been Jack. Probably killed someone. He wondered what Jack was doing now, if he was dreaming of killing monsters like Daddy, which he was always saying. He wanted to call Jack, to hear his voice, but Hayley would probably get irritated and refuse, say it was too late to wake Jack up.

The bell on the door tinkled, signalling the arrival of another customer, just as his phone began to beep. Aaron took a deep breath and downed his shot. He had a headache now. There was a chance he was beginning to get drunk. He checked his phone; it was Haley. Jack this wkend? He heaved a sigh. Pick him up at 9. He wrote back.

"Hey, Hotch." He looked up, surprised, but recognising the voice.

"What are you doing here?" He wondered if she had followed him here. Briefly toyed with the idea of telling her to please leave him alone then discarded it.

"What are you doing here? This is my seedy bar." She took the seat beside him and waved the paunchy bartender over. He seemed to know her by name, and what she drank. "So," she said, once she had obtained her drink, "it's Jack, isn't it?" she had seen him at the last office Christmas party and he had immediately loved her. He had been enamoured of the entire team, actually, but she had been the one who sat next to him and told him stories of monster-fighting princes, so he liked her the best.

Now he nodded, head in hands. He was easily on his ninth shot, which was what worried him the most. Now he realised that he was quite liable to reveal everything to a woman who didn't know he liked her.

"You want to talk about it?"

He shrugged.

"Okay." She settled into her seat and gulped down her drink.

"You know, it could have been him. In some alternate universe, it could have been him."

She was silent.

"I just – I felt like I was focusing on beating the monsters outside and forgetting the one person I love the most. And then Jeremy Harris came, and he was Jack. And I took one look at him and I…"

"He idolizes you. We could all see that from the way he clung to you at the Christmas thing. You're his Daddy, you know?"

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of sometimes."

She finished her drink and moved to stand. "You should go home. We have work tomorrow, paperwork to do. I'll get Jim to call you a cab." Jim was probably the corpulent bartender milling around the other side of the bar now.

Hotch turned the shot glass upside down and let the last few drops of alcohol fall into his mouth, savouring the numbness that followed. Then she was back, and leading him outside into the cold, dark night. They strolled at the kerb, and stood, silently, rocking on their heels, forgetting what to say. A pregnant silence filled the air. The cab was sitting out front, engine put-putting quietly.

"You should have this," she said finally. She handed him an envelope. 'Daddy' was scrawled in crayon over the back. "Hayley stopped by the office right after you left at eight to talk to you," she explained, "she thought you'd still be in. Jack saw the press conference and wrote a letter he made her promise to deliver. I was the only one still in."

"Thanks," he offered. He motioned to the cab. "I'd better get going." She nodded.

"Good night, Hotch."

He had a fleeting drunk wish to just kiss her, as they stood in the cold. He shook the thought and opened the door, heard the heels of her boots start click-clicking in the other direction.

He turned around, one foot in the cab and the other out. "Do you want a ride home?" he asked suddenly, then winced, realising that she had her car at the garage.

Her hair flicked around her shoulder as she spun to face him. "A ride?"

"Home." He stated lamely. "You shouldn't drink and drive."

Her eyes widened. "Um…" The cabbie was beginning to look bored.

"You know what, never mind. It was a stupid suggestion."

She started to speak, faltered. "Okay then. Good night, Hotch."

"Good night, Emily."

He ducked into the cab with a sigh. Another missed chance. He wondered when he would ever admit to himself, sober, that Emily Prentiss was someone who understood him, no matter how much he tried to shut her out.

He opened the envelope and read the letter.

Daddy, he read.

Mommy says your out fiting monsters agian. I miss you. Today in scool Tommy sed that you dont love me becose you are never home. You love me right? Your jus out fiting the big bad monsters so that Ill be safe. I hope your beeing safe wile your fiting the monsters. Plese say hi to all of your coleegs fro me.

I love you, Daddy.

Jack

Aaron Hotchner folded the letter twice and tucked it into his breast pocket. "I love you too, bub," he whispered to himself, gazing out the window as the seedy bar where yet another reminder what could have been was stained.