#meant that i couldn't stand unassisted

[cassandralexxx]

To be better.

looking back...

it’s weird to get better.

Every step forward is a realization of just how unsteady your gait was

every milestone makes you realize what you could not do.

To be better is to admit you were worse

but looking back, I would far rather be here.

[masterwords]

stuck like glue

Summary: Teenage shenanigans. Jess drags Hotch and Sean out to the lake for a lazy summer afternoon and things do not go as planned.

Pairings: None (Well, Hotch & Haley, but she's not in the story)

Warnings: abuse, injuries (back & hand), near drowning

Notes: Oh my gosh. I wrote something. Like an actual story came from my brain and made it to SO MANY WORDS after more than a month of a dry spell. Hopefully this means we'll have more...I have a few prompts in my inbox to get to, and a few others. This is kind of meant to be a backstory for ANOTHER long one I'm working on that will hopefully be done this week.

Word Count: 6.7k

Read on AO3: stuck like glue

**

She was tired. Exhausted, really. Summer classes started in two weeks (right along with her cushy job at the movie theatre) and it was the only two weeks she'd have fully off...she'd been planning to spend it riding her bike to the lake and sitting all day on the sand. It was more of a glorified watering hole, bigger than a pond but nothing like the grand lakes most kids would go spend their entire summers at. The reeds that surrounded its murky waters were as tall as she was, tall enough to afford her enough privacy that sometimes she decided to make sure her top half was properly and evenly tanned. No one around for miles to yell “Hey, Jess, put those things away!”

But her lake plans were on hold because Haley and Hotch were supposed to be camp counselors for a whole week and then Hotch had to go and get himself hurt. She wasn't really sure how bad it was, she hadn't had time to see him yet (or maybe she'd been avoiding him) but Haley assured her it was bad. So first he missed summer camp, and then he would miss tryouts for Shakespeare at the park, and to add insult to injury, he wouldn't make it to auditions for the summer production at the Children's Theatre. He was up a creek without a paddle, stuck at home with Sean for the foreseeable future. At least that had been the idea, but like all things in his life...plans change, and never in accordance with his desires.

On his first full day alone at home after "the fall" as Haley had come to call it so quickly, she'd taken her bike to his house just to see. His dad was at work, his mom had tennis, Haley was wrangling rowdy kids at summer camp and he was alone with Sean. With her backpack slung over one shoulder, she skidded her bicycle down the gravel road, twisting and going hands free every now and then, her unruly lion's mane blowing wildly in the wind. Two weeks of summer and planned to suck up every last drop, no matter what.

But she was so tired, and by the time she was dumping her bike on the Hotchner lawn and tugging the cuffs of her overalls back down, she'd already worried about what she was going to walk in to find. She could see Sean through the big picture window. He was standing over the couch pouting and she knew better than to knock. Hotch was hurt but he'd get up anyway, and she knew where the key was kept so there was really no reason to put any of them through it. He'd get up, she'd scold him for it...best to avoid it entirely.

Third board to the right of the rug, the one with the heart shaped knot, she peeled it up and pulled the key out quickly, getting the door open before he even had a chance to sit himself up. She'd been worried for nothing though, because at the moment of her entry, he couldn't have managed sitting up on his own. Not even as stubborn as he was.

“What are you doing here?” he grumbled, always finding a reason to be mad at something. She huffed and put her hands on her hips, staring at him, assessing the situation. Like hell she was going to be taking any shit from a kid who couldn't even roll himself over unassisted.

“Haley said you got hurt.” She paused, licking her Dr. Pepper chapstick lips and frowned, lowering her voice an octave. “Your dad?”

His sudden frown mirrored hers. “No.”

“Yeah right.” She wasn't about to let him lie to her, but this time he wasn't lying and he explained it in as few words as possible. The pain in his back was still fresh and at times overwhelming, he really didn't have the energy to expend on words. But he could find enough for this, to let his dad off the hook this time.

“I fell out of the treehouse.”

She rolled her eyes, but crouched beside him anyway to hear the rest of the sorded tale. Sean threw his arms happily around her neck, his sticky popsicle mouth tickling against her cheek when he whispers to her that Hotch is actually telling the truth. “I went up there to fix a broken railing, didn't want Sean to fall...”

“Well you're obviously not much of a handyman then, huh?” But she softened her tone and touched a scrape on his arm, probably the least of his concerns but it was big and angry red. “How bad is it?”

He looked at Sean and nodded for him to leave the room for a minute. “I told Sean I'm okay,” he started quietly, his voice hoarse and thick with what she suspected might be tears he'd been choking back for his brother's sake. “But I don't know. I can barely walk, Jess.”

“You know that's what hospitals are for, right?”

“Jess,” he groaned, letting his eyes drift closed miserably. “I can't do that and you know it.”

“Why the hell not?” Except she knew damn well why the hell not. He didn't need to explain to her the delicacy of his situation, his father, the hospital. He was skating on thin ice.

“Just tell them Aaron. They'll call the cops and...”

“And if my dad goes to jail, then what? He's the only income we have...”

That was it. That was how her summer started. And after two weeks, when she was working and taking morning classes to get ahead of her senior year, she thought that was the worst it could get.

And then Haley went to cheer camp and Hotch got a job and things got worse.

It wasn't an ideal summer job, but then, the idea of a job over the summer really wasn't ideal to begin with. Not that Hotch minded working, he actually quite liked keeping his hands and his mind busy but working for his father's firm was about the last thing he would have wanted to do. He would rather shovel slop from the sewers, and if such a job existed and was hiring, he might be inclined to apply. His father's full-time assistant was taking on twice as much work since the elder Hotchner had gotten sick, and they needed a file clerk. That meant another paycheck to dole out...unless he could get someone to do the work for free.

Enter his son whose relatively new back injury had sidelined him from just about every summer plan he'd mapped out to keep himself busy and out of the house for nearly sixty days.

“Honey, he needs your help and you can use the experience when you apply to universities...” His mother was a fierce negotiator. She always appealed to his good nature first in the hope that he wouldn't press further, but in this instance, he wasn't going down without a fight. This wasn't just going to ruin his summer, it would have tendrils that licked and twisted into every aspect of his life forever, he knew it. “Besides, what else are you going to do? Lay around like a lump and watch the television all day? If you let that back injury become an excuse, you'll regret it forever.”

It was a vague illusion of power, of autonomy. She was still phrasing it like it was a question, like he had options. He knew he really had no choice, though. He would work for his father because she was right...what else would he do with his summer? He'd just worked up to being able to ride his bike short distances again without wanting to die, so all of his youth summer camp and sports dreams were dead in the water. The community pool only enticed him for about the first week or two when there was still enough of a chill in the air that the pool wasn't packed. When the temperatures exploded into the triple digits and the humidity was off the charts, unless you wanted to pack in like sardines, you couldn't hang out there anymore. Kids shitting in the pool every other day didn't help, either, because then the rivers and the lakes were packed.

Anyway, his back hurt too much to argue with her. She had an ice pack and some tylenol in her hands and almost seemed to be witholding them until he offered her his reluctant agreement. Then he got the pills and the iced tea and the kiss on the top of the head that made his skin crawl.

“Good honey,” she smiled. And then came the insult to injury. He wouldn't be getting a paycheck. “You're getting paid in experience,” she hissed, her honeyed smile twisting when he asked how he was supposed to pay for gas to and from the office if he wasn't getting a paycheck. “Jessica works at the movie theatre doesn't she? See if she can help you get on there part time. You could run a show or scoop some popcorn...Sean wouldn't mind a free ticket or two.” He didn't want to do that, though. A full-time unpaid job at his father's was already a nightmare but to put a part time job on top of it? He did want to see Haley and his friends at some point in the summer so he caved and agreed that the office would be fine, yes, he'd be happy to just get experience and instead he got well acquainted with walking or riding his bike. No self-respecting 17-year-old rode their bike when they had access to a car, but then, he'd realized a long while before that he really wasn't all that self-respecting. He just existed. Riding his bike hurt his back, but then so did the endless bending over and reaching up high and carrying box after box of files so what was one more thing? It would eventually heal. And if not...

“Psst,” Jess hissed from the office doorway, her mountain of curls piled high on her head to expose her neck. She was sweating, it was damn hot outside. The air was soupy and thick and she, bless her soul, had come on her bike. Jess wasn't worried about being a self-respecting teenager...she loved her bike and the wind in her hair as it whipped around like a lion's mane in her face. More than that, she loved that she would ride with him out into the dirt trails and up into the cool shade of the woods to their own little oasis. A tiny creek that bubbled icy water ankle deep. She and Haley and Hotch would spend hours there on the hottest days, basking in the shade and the frigid water. She'd even managed to throw Sean onto her banana seat and bring him along once or twice now that he was old enough. They could all be free with only the bees and the crickets for company. “You done yet slowpoke?”

He glanced up at her, surprised at the time and sighed. Not fast enough, he tried to hide his hand but she caught sight of it. Angry and red knuckles, a bruise pooling pale blue and spreading from his middle finger up the back of his hand. He was filing one handed and moving slowly. It wasn't the bruise that caught her eye and held it though, it was the tiny crimson crescent of blood that made her sigh and level her stare at him. Accusing but soft enough. “No,” he said softly, pulling his hand behind his back. “I'm going to be a while. Go on without me.”

That would have turned most people away. If it were his friend Ben, he would have shrugged, blown a bubble with his Big League Chew bubblegum and popped it on his way out. No big deal, he would say. Not Jess, though. She walked in with her arms folded over her chest, chewing her Fruit Stripes gum loudly and he watched her eyes trail the stacks of paperwork he was sorting and filing. One handed. Pretending to use both hands was getting him nowhere...and anyway, he was pretty sure it wasn't broken. Just bruised. Just stupid and bruised. “Can I help? I got two hands...” She smirked and he mimicked her in his snottiest way, a brief moment of levity in an otherwise too heavy moment.

“You should go...” He was pleading and the despair in his voice made her shiver. He'd managed to protect Haley from his father. She hadn't even met him yet, a fact that distressed her endlessly. Like she thought maybe he didn't like her if he wouldn't bring her home, but Jess had met him more than once and she could attest to his skittishness when it came to bringing Haley around. Jess wasn't like Haley, she wasn't fragile and sweet, she had a hard enough exterior that she could take his father with a grain of salt. She didn't need to be protected. Still, he wanted to keep her from his wrath.

“What, your dad would be upset if someone else helped get work done for him? I doubt it. Who would turn down free labor?”

“J-Jess...” His voice was scarcely above a whisper but she heard that stutter loud and clear. It made her freeze, cocking her head slightly to the side. He hadn't stuttered in a while now, not since he'd joined the debate team and learned how to regulate his cadence and word choices. Not since they'd worked so hard to get past it. Something had happened and she didn't like it. She scrunched her nose and he pleaded with her silently to let it drop, not to make him say another word. Jess thought it was working here that was bringing it out (and that hand...probably punched a wall...he was falling apart) but you couldn't say anything like that to his mother. She would huff and puff and fire off a litany of excuses until you gave in, a quivering puddle, and admitted that it was the child's weak spirit and he needed toughening up.

He needed no such thing, at least insofar as Jess could see. “Let me help. I know my ABC's, Hotchner, I can file...”

“Miss Brooks, to what do we owe the pleasure?” The voice was syrupy and Southern, dripping with charm and she felt her neck flush. Shrinking momentarily, she watched as Hotch looked down at his papers sheepishly and she saw his adam's apple bob up and down. The change in his demeanor was automatic and she'd never hated anything more in her life.

“Mr. Hotchner,” she swung around, adjusting her own posture and smiling her best. No anger, no fear, she couldn't let him see how he made her feel. Men like this, she knew all too well from her own father's stories about too many nights down at the townie bar...they needed to feel you shrink before them. She wouldn't allow it. With that forced stage smile she extended her hand to him. “Aaron and I were going to ride to the library to do some research. We were assigned...” Hotch shuddered at her lie and forced his please-don't-let-it-be-broken hand to close around a manilla folder and slide it into place. Anything to avoid the way he would blow her lie right out of the water.

“It can wait, you have all summer. Aaron has work to do.” He was dismissive and disappeared quickly, without another word. The less time he hung around, the less she had to put on the brave front and the less she had to watch her friend cower like a mouse. While Jessica went red with anger, Hotch only breathed a sigh of relief. That had gone about as good as he could ever dare hope. Better, maybe. Her lie had gone over like a lead balloon, but he hadn't called either of them on it and for that he was grateful.

“You really should go.”

“Aaron...”

“Jess, please.”

She didn't argue this time. The bruised knuckles, the tiny crescent of blood, the look in his eye...it all added up to a storm she didn't want to bring on. He was having a rough day and she couldn't make it better by pushing him. “Okay,” she agreed, but she didn't go far.

She waited in the back stairwell. They one she had tiptoed up so no one would see her, the one she and Hotch would sit and eat their lunch in sometimes when she was on her way to work and made an extra sandwich. He liked pb&j as much as any child she'd ever met, maybe more. The sweet look of innocence that flashed in his eyes at that first bite couldn't be replicated in any other way and she wondered what he thought about. Haley had told her once that he'd been very close with his grandmother and she thought maybe that was it, memories of a woman he missed dearly. In any case, she had no sandwiches this time, only a desperate desire to ride her bike up into the woods or out to the lake...anywhere but here. So she waited for him, her only friend. She could entertain herself for hours alone, she was plenty resourceful. Plus she always kept a book in the front pocket of her overalls for just such an occasion. Holing up at the edge of the bottom stair, she kicked out her legs, wiggled her toes in her sandals, and started reading.

She was halfway through “Animal Farm”, and her water bottle, when she heard his footsteps coming toward her. For a moment she contemplated hidng and ambushing him, but then she thought of his hand again and decided against it. Foolhardy, he was going to be in no mood for her shenanigans. She just needed to get him away from here.

“I can't go,” he said softly, before he even rounded the corner. He knew she was waiting, he could smell her cucumber melon body spray. Haley liked sugary vanilla, she smelled like his favorite bakery, and Jessica smelled like a garden in summer. “I have to go to the post office, and I'm on spazz duty the rest of the day.” By the time she saw him, she had her arms folded defiantly across her chest.

“I'll drop that off at the post office, you go get Sean and bring him to the lake. We'll skip the creek today, okay? Come on it's like a thousand degrees outside...Sean needs a cool down too.”

He chewed his lip while he considered his options and while he definitely knew he shouldn't chance it...he was going to. His parents were ruining his entire summer, he would take one night for himself and still do everything they asked of him. “Okay. Make sure it gets there before the last pick up okay? It's important...” For some Senator his dad rubbed elbows with and was probably living very comfortably in the pocket of. He was learning a lot about his dad's job but none of it was exactly going to be helpful if he didn't want to play dirty. His dad was the king of dirty.

By the time they were all at the lake, Hotch's back had nearly seized up, his hand was throbbing, and Jess was sweating from head to toe. “I got there,” she announced while sucking huge gulps of air, dropping her bike beside his and taking in the sight of Sean splashing in the water. Hotch just sat on his towel on the beach, eyeing the spreading bruise over his knuckles with some fascination. “You're welcome.”

“Oh, yeah...thanks...” he muttered, poking at his swollen knuckle. She rolled her eyes and plopped down beside him in a spray of sand that stuck to the backs of her now bare legs, her denim overalls a few paces back in a heap. She'd shed layers incrementally until she was in nothing but her bathing suit, nudging him in his bulky sweater that looked like misery at the best of times but right now looked like it had been pulled from the pits of hell.

“Off,” she instructed, tugging at it. “Before you die of a heat stroke.” He only glared at her, but he did what she said because no matter how defiant he wanted to be, she was right. He couldn't sit there in his sweater all evening. Once he'd shed that last layer, she was satisfied and decided it was best to stop bossing him around while he was still being compliant. Before he started fighting back. Instead, she got up and crept across the beach, sneaking up on Sean who was lost in the world of tiny fish swimming around his ankles.

Around them the reeds hugged close to the shoreline, swaying in the gentle June breeze. Cat tails sprung up between them and Hotch thought about a time when he'd been young and innocent enough to cut one and bring it home. He hadn't realized that letting it dry out would have catastrophic results, and returning to his bedroom after a long day spent on the tire swing in the orchard, he expected to drop into his bed a puddle of sweat and dirt and happy sunshine smell only to find that the cat tail had exploded. Right along with his dreams of a quiet evening. Cottony puffs were everywhere, on every surface, and he panicked, shut the door quickly behind him before either of his parents could see what he'd done. At first he didn't even understand it, what could have happened? It looked like a teddy bear had been eviscerated in the middle of his room. And then he saw the empty jar, the stalk, the last dredges of pillowy innards clinging to the sides. It was letting him know what happeend, a secret message.

“Shit...” he'd muttered, the first time ever saying that word in his home. He clapped his hands over his mouth and stared toward the door, as if he'd set off some chain of events by saying that word in these walls...he expected his door to fly off of its hinges and the angry red face of his whiskey barrel father to appear. But divine providence smiled on him that evening and nothing happened. He cleaned up his room and got rid of the evidence as quickly as his little legs would carry him. The next day he walked to the library and checked out a book on plants, figuring he had an awful lot to learn and he had all summer to do it. If he didn't know what cat tails were capable of, what else did he not know?

“Jessica,” he said, shifting uncomfortably on the sand to grab the pocket knife from his back pocket. “Cut me a cat tail.” He handed her the knife and, thankfully, she obliged. He called Sean over to him and, with the knife in hand, dragged the blade agonizingly slow down the side of it, reveling in the way the insides puffed into his hands and scattered on the breeze. Sean's eyes went wide with wonder.

“How'd you do that?” Sean exclaimed, ready to go rip another cat tail from its stalk to see it again and again. Hotch grinned and shook his head.

“Magic.”

And it was, though not the kind he was implying or the kind that Sean took it to mean. This wasn't some man in a cape pulling a rabbit from a hat, this was better. He hoped that someday Sean could see that it was nature that was magic, not him. Sean lost interest fast and plunged toward the water's edge gleefully. He knew how to swim, at least enough to be passable, but Hotch felt a little fear twist in his belly anyway. They weren't supposed to be out here, they were supposed to be at home making dinner and working through Sean's summer reading program. He had a whole map to fill up and a mountain of expectations they had little hope of meeting if they skirted their obligations every night like this.

But Hotch was angry and indignant. He would take one night for himself.

Jess sat beside him and bumped his shoulder, peeling away quickly when she saw him wince. He'd tried to hide it but she saw it. “Shit,” she muttered. “I'm sorry, I forgot.”

“No big,” was his cool reply. They watched Sean splash his way through the water without fear, through the sand and up to his knees trying to catch the tiny little fish that circled his legs. He held his breath, held perfectly still, then plunged his chubby fingers beneath the surface only to come up empty handed. Each time he would take another step, thinking maybe if he was further out he'd have more luck, until he was waist deep and splashing wildly. Somewhere he'd gone from fisherman to wild animal, Hotch figured. His mind ticked games away so fast Hotch could scarcely keep up with him.

“How'd you hurt your hand?” Jess asked, reaching out to grab it and pull it to her. A look of silent concentration washed over her face while she poked and pressed, none of this hurt terribly. It looked uglier than it felt...mostly just stiff fingers and tender bruises now. He considered his options carefully...there was always lying, he could easily say he'd fallen off of his bike. With his back as stiff as it was, it seemed likely but he did hate to lie to her. It felt like breaking something precious and fragile, he'd yet to lie to her and in his vast experience...once you started lying, it was awfully hard to stop. Just ask the hospital about the pages in his medical file. However, telling her the truth, that his father had gotten him so blocked up by poking at him that he got lost in a hole stuttering for at least ten minutes and he'd decided the only way to reset his brain was by smashing his fist into the exposed pipe that ran along the wall of the men's room enough times that the sludge broke free of the dam and he could think again...well that sounded just a little too real, a little too raw for sitting on the beach with his toes in the sand. Maybe he could find a careful middle ground, not quite a lie but not quite the truth.

“Aaron?” she asked again, and he blinked at her with a wash of confusion in his eyes that concerned her. Great, he thought, now she probably thinks I've got a concussion too. “Earth to Hotchner...”

“Sorry, what did you say?” he asked, pulling a few more minutes of decision-making time out of thin air. She laughed and let his hand drop back into his own lap, shaking her head. This was where the magic became real...she didn't ask him again. The question had distressed him to the point that he'd what, gone into the ether for a full two minutes with a blank look on his face?

“Nothing,” she replied quietly, figuring she'd get at the root of the problem somehow later. His father had a reputation for being a beast, and if she'd not seen him that morning before work she might be apt to think he'd been knocked around but not at the office...no way the man would ever tarnish his reputation. The silence settled in between them, until their entire world was insulated and peaceful. There was the sun high above them, beating down on their already pink shoulders, and Sean's squeals of delight seemed far away. He is the sun and you are the moon, his mother would always say, but he thought that wasn't quite right. Sean was certainly the sun but he couldn't believe he was anything as lovely as the moon, and he would argue it with his mother once he'd gotten old enough to know better. I'm not the moon, mama, I'm the fog on the treetops...and he hadn't exactly meant it to sound as sad as it did, but he saw that bright shine of tears in her eyes and he hated the idea that he'd made his mother cry. But she never argued with him. Later, when he started yelling back at his father, when he started punching walls (instead of faces), he knew that he was no longer peaceful fog...he was a great black storm cloud ready to open wide and rain anything in its path with violent hail. “Aaron?”

He blinked again and sighed. He was really out of it today. “Yeah.”

“Where did you go just then?”

He had nothing to say to that. Not a single thing. So he shrugged and flipped his knife out of its sheath, watched the blade glint in the summer sun. “Just thinking. It's b-b-been a long d-d-ay.” He stabbed the knife hard into the dirt beside him, ground it in, twisted and turned it deep into the earth and suddenly she knew what had happened to his hand. The story had written itself in the displaced grains of earth and rock beside him, in the way his lips set in a grim line, the deep crease between his brows.

A motor boat sped by far too close to shore. Teenagers, Jess knew. No adult would dare speed so close to where children swam, but kids...especially kids with access to beer and joints, they didn't give much thought to small children. Might as well be on a different planet. They would skid their boats into the reeds to make out, skinny dip, smoke. Jess didn't consider any of them friends but she was no stranger to boat hopping for a good time...drunk teenagers were friendly and generous. And when one of them got a little handsy, she had no problem wandering off into the reeds and finding her own way home. Summer was an adventure, she figured. But this summer she didn't want that adventure, she'd had plenty of it. This summer she wanted to soak up something a little slower, a little more sober, a lot less reckless. She had adulthood to think about this summer.

Waves cascaded toward the shore and smacked into Sean's little body, must to his delight. He started out trying to jump them, the smaller ones, one and then the other. He would crouch, watch the wave swell and then leap out of the water like a frog. The splash down was his favorite part. It never occurred to him that the waves could gather enough strength to knock him down...until he was tumbling beneath the water, tangling in seaweed and reeds. The more he thrashed about, the further the waves carried him back out, the tighter the grip of the reeds.

Hotch felt the moment the sun went out. His skin freckled with cold and the storm crackled beneath his surface. He held his breath and tried to stand but he couldn't move quickly enough. By the time he was even halfway upright, Sean was further into the lake, far beyond where he could touch the bottom and he was screaming for help. Gargling bitter water, spitting his brother's name through choking sobs. Cold panic crept into Hotch and this time he was lumbering toward the water as fast as his aching and stiff back would allow, grunting curse words under his breath at his inability to do this one simple thing.

Jess was ahead of him in an instant. She was kicking up sand as she tore along the beach, rushing into the surf and diving when she'd gone far enough. Then they were both under water and Hotch was alone with the waves lapping against the shore and the rustle of the fucking cat tails beside him. They were whispering to him, some desperately sick mockery in their tone. We bested you once, they seemed to say, and now we've got you again. Won't you ever learn?

Breathless seconds turned into what felt like muddy hours and he inched toward the water line, ready to crash his way in after them, knowing he shouldn't but also that he couldn't wait any longer. By the time he was fighting his way through the waves on legs threatening to give way, the breath had left his lungs completely and the entire world had gone cold. Without Sean there was no sun.

Finally, a burst. Bright and blinding, Jessica and Sean crashed through the surface, him clinging hard to her neck. A choking sound erupted first, and lake water splattered against her cheek before his screams began. Like a firework, first you see the light, then you hear the boom. But the sun was shining again, and Hotch rushed toward them without a care for his own limitations.

“You're okay,” she whispered into his ear, teeth chattering in unison with his. “Your'e okay, I've got you.” Her voice calmed him quickly and he nodded, terrified blue eyes locking desperate and scared with hers. For a moment, she was the only person in the entire world and she hugged him a little tighter to prove to him that he wasn't going anywhere without her.

“Is he okay?” Hotch gasped, reaching for his brother with trembling hands. She waited a moment, until she thought it was a good idea, and then pried Sean away from her neck and pushed him into Hotch's arms. Stepping back, giving them some distance, she watched the two of them wrap around each other, Hotch burying his nose in Sean's cold neck. Slowly he turned his eyes to Jess and saw her glowing through the filter of Sean's golden wet hair. She was wringing out her curls, keeping her hands busy and he could almost see her heart thundering in its cage. Shrinking under the intense scrutiny, she realized that he was looking at her in a way he's never looked at her before...and without wanting to dive too deep into what it meant, she realized she was doing the same thing right back at him. Something had changed between them, something that she wished felt like shimmering light but was really just a tightening noose.

“Let's go to my dad's store,” she said, breaking through the silence. “He's got hot cocoa. You want some cocoa Sean?” What she didn't want to say was that they couldn't go home like this, Hotch would get the licking of a lifetime and they both knew it. They had to play damage control, give Sean a few more stories to tell so maybe his brush with death wasn't the first thing that exploded out of his mouth when his parents got home. Sean's enthusiasm for Mr. Brooks' store, his cocoa on tap and his penny candy jars...it was better than any amusement park he could dream up.

The story about their time at the lake, about Sean's near drowning, distracted Roy from Hotch's hand. Jess was weaving a careful web here, not lies but definitely straying as far as she could from the truth of any one situation long enough that they might be able to bury it beneath the simplicity of kids being kids on summer vacation. “Always getting into trouble,” Roy said with a soft smile, pouring three tin mugs of hot cocoa. Extra marshmallows for Sean, army issue wool blankets for all three of them to warm up in. The store was chilly, air conditioning on full blast. He didn't bother telling them about the mistakes they made, he just said so quietly that he was glad they were okay and that he'd be happy to drive them home if they could wait another half hour until closing time. Hotch didn't think he should, but he didn't have much recourse, he was along for the ride. He'd have to go back with Jess for their bikes later, and he'd really be skinned if someone stole his bike, but it was a chance he'd have to take for now.

It was opening the car door that made Roy flinch. He'd heard plenty of Haley's moaning about Hotch's back, he was familiar with the tall tale of how that one had happened...not sure he really believed it but he wouldn't have said anything, the kid seemed stiff but more or less fine. But that hand, that bruise mottled hand, it was fresh, and he couldn't ignore that. “What's that?”

“Nothing, sir,” was Hotch's immediate reply. Roy frowned.

“Don't lie to me, Aaron. You and I, we've always told each other the truth right? I told you right away, we're good if you don't try to bullshit me...” The lecture was exactly the opposite of what Hotch needed, it was too much information for his already foggy brain and words escaped him. Roy's frown deepened, like he thought Hotch was trying to come up with a bigger lie. A canyon was forming between them.

“I h-h-hit the wall,” he muttered, biting hard into his lip as he stumbled over words. Roy watched him clench his fist and thought he understood the rest, he'd been an angry teenage boy a long time ago but that feeling never really left you. The memory lived there, dormant and waiting. He'd like to see how well he remembered his own fists when he thought about the elder Hotchner, so he ceased the inquisition and put his hand on the boy's shoulder instead. A light squeeze, a peace offering, closing the gap again. This kid couldn't afford a canyon. The car ride itself was quiet, and Sean was nearly asleep by the time they'd gone up the dirt road to the Hotchner house. Hotch squirmed out of his seat first, unbuckling Sean and pulling him out after.

“Jessie,” Roy asked, grabbing his daughter quickly before she could vanish into the Hotchner house. He held her back and lowered his voice. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah,” she replied with a quick nod. She wouldn't betray him, even if every single fiber of her being wanted to. “Had a rough day. He'll be okay.”

“That sonofabitch...”

“No, daddy. I believe him this time.” Roy regarded her suspiciously and sighed. She'd always believe Hotch, he knew that. She'd give him the benefit of the doubt forever or hold up whatever lie he thought he needed to tell to protect himself if nothing else worked. With some strange future perfect sight, a shockingly brief clarity, he knew Haley was going to marry this kid. They would be bound together forever, and it wasn't going to be sweet bliss...of that he was certain.

Jess ran to catch up to them, bounding up the steps behind Hotch and Sean quickly. “Hey! I'm gonna run back to the lake to get my bike, then I'll go and get yours. If it's still there.” Hotch rolled his eyes and nodded.

“Thanks Jess,” was what he said, effortlessly and without stumbling over her name. She calmed the storm in his brain. It was probably about the bike because that was the easy thing to thank her for, but really it was so much more. It was for coming to the office and pulling him out of his funk, for waiting in the stairwell for him even after he pushed her away, for lying to his dad and shaking his hand anyway, for saving Sean's life, for the cocoa. He watched her crouch and wrap Sean in a hug, whispering something secret and funny into his ear before pulling away and looking at him seriously. She was on her knees, eye to eye with him, and watching felt suddenly like intruding.

“Don't you scare me like that again, you hear me?” And then her arms were around him again, tighter this time. There was a desperation there that made Hotch squirm, and Sean seemed to sense it and tried to pull away. Big emotions frightened him and this hug felt huge.

“You're hugging me too tight...”