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0. The Warning
Aaron doesn’t get much warning.
He gets an unexpected call from you just as he’s exiting his vehicle and picks up. “Hey,” he says, voice automatically softening to the tone he uses with you.
“Hey.” He can hear the soft smile in your voice.
“Everything ok?”
You huff a laugh. “Uhhh, well, I am so sorry about this-”
He flashes his ID badge at the front desk.
“-I would’ve stopped them or given you more warning but, well, of course they waited til I was away-”
“Hold on, I’m going through security.” He places the phone down and walks through the metal detectors. Given the all clear, he picks up his stuff and puts his phone back up to his ear. “I’m back, what’s going on, sweetheart?”
You sigh. He can image you pinching your brow.
“So. You know about my family. The chaotic ones. Extra chaotic,” you clarify.
“The not blood ones. The chaotic, loud, found family, I remember your stories.” He smiles, stepping into an empty elevator.
“They’ve… decided to meet you,” you say through pinched lips.
He raises his eyebrows even though you can’t see him. “What does that mean?”
You sigh again. “I am so sorry-”
“Don’t apologize. Just, tell me what should I be expecting?”
“I don’t know. But… they want to meet you, and get to know you? And I don’t know who will show up but, just- If anyone shows up within the next few days, weeks,” you amend, “they’re probably mine. Just… go with it?”
He chuckles and the elevator doors open. “I’ll expect the unexpected then. As best I can.”
You laugh. “That’s pretty much about it. Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me, they’re your family.” He pushes through the doors of the bullpen.
“Well,” you sigh. “Thank you anyways. And if at any point you need it to stop, for whatever reason, just let me know, I’ll call them off. They mean no harm but they can be…”
“Chaotic.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s ok. I mean, we’re… partners now, so if they want to meet me, I’d assume-”
“That they like you but also want you to have to prove yourself?” you say dryly. “Something like that. Listen, I gotta go, my next flight is starting to board-”
“Go,” he interrupts. “Text me when you land. We’ll call later.”
“Ok, love you, bye.”
“Love you, take care.”
Even with your call, giving him a heads up… It’s still not enough to prepare him.
1. Jason Jason's Proxy
He walks into his office and his hand flinches to his side when he notices someone’s already in there. Sitting at his desk.
Casually sprawled sideways in his chair, is a redhead, wearing a sleeveless tee and baggy pants. Hotch sees the ends of green ink on both biceps. He drops his hand but stays on guard.
"Can I help you?"
He’s given a lazy and mischievous smirk. And then a, “Hey, Dad,” reaches his ears and he almost has a heart attack (all the possibilities running through his head, calculating ages and places and-) when your voice reminds him of your family wanting to meet him.
He narrows his eyes and studies the young person, trying to figure out who this could be. Light freckles, shoulder length red hair, sleeveless shirts, ah- tattoos. “Roy,” he says, in very much what Prentiss, Reid, JJ and Morgan would call his ‘dad tone’.
He’s rewarded with a widening grin. “Knew you wouldn’t forget your own child.”
Hotch sighs. So that’s the plan then. This is going to be a long day- month, he thinks to himself. “Aaron Hotchner, he/him,” he introduces himself, even though he knows all of them will know that already.
But Roy eyes brighten and he pops up out of the chair. “He/him, too. Dad.”
Hotch doesn’t reply to that and goes around his desk to sit in the now vacated chair. “Is there anything I can help you with, Roy?”
“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’ and walks over the the couch, sprawls out and closes his eyes.
Hotch watches him for a second before deciding there’s not much he can do about it and Roy’s not really being a problem, so he boots up his computer and gets to work.
Dave is the first to notice Roy, who's probably asleep but Hotch can’t be certain, when he stops by to say a quick 'Hi' on his way in. He raises an eyebrow at Hotch but when he doesn’t reply Dave leaves it at that. (He knows Dave will invite him out to drinks later, hound him until he agrees and that’s where he’ll attack.)
Morgan is the next, coming in first to drop off finished files. He doesn’t notice Roy until he’s on his way out and nearly jumps.
“Hotch.”
“Hm?”
“Anything you want to tell us?” He’s staring at a still sleeping (?) Roy.
He looks at the young man on his couch, and then at Morgan. “No.”
Morgan raises an eyebrow, but Hotch doesn’t budge and goes back to his work. After a moment he hears Morgan sigh. “If you say so,” he mutters as he leaves. (But closes the door quietly behind him, and Hotch thinks he might have to buy him a coffee for that.)
JJ is next and Roy is awake for that one.
Apparently Morgan hadn’t started gossiping yet, because she seems surprised to see another person in his office.
“Um, hi?”
“Hi, Roy Hotchner. Nice to meet you,” Roy says with a smirk that Hotch knows is going to give him a headache by the end of the day.
JJ’s head slowly turns to look at Hotch incredulously and he shakes his head. “We're not related,” he says tiredly.
“Dad!” Roy pouts. It should not work for this grown man… and yet. “Stop saying that or people will start to believe you.”
He decides to focus on JJ and looks at her. “Do we have a case?”
“Huh? Oh. No, no, nothing like that. Not yet, anyways. Just some files for you to look through and sign.”
He sighs. The usual then. He nods at the ever-growing pile on the corner of his desk. “Just add it to the pile.”
She nods and does as he says, but hovers. Clearly curious.
He sighs and looks up from his work. “Yes, JJ?”
She looks between him and Roy and back again. “Should I order a cake?” she asks, amusement bleeding through her tone.
“Yes!” Roy exclaims at the same time Hotch gives a stern, “No.”
“Definitely.”
“Not.”
JJ laughs. “Nice meeting you, Roy.”
“Pleasure’s all mine.” He winks at her and she snorts in amusement before finally leaving.
Hotch glances over at Roy. Roy smiles back. The picture of innocence that Hotch doesn’t believe for one minute. “Do you have anything you need to do today?”
“Other than spend time with my dear old dad? Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’.
Hotch sighs and gets back to work.
Lunchtime rolls around and Roy stands up, reaching above his head to stretch out his back, Hotch spares him a glance before returning his gaze to the headache inducing paperwork in front of him.
"Up and at 'em, Dad, it's lunch. You don't want your son to starve, do you?"
Again, that pout should not work as well as it does on a grown man. Hotch feels himself giving in but he's not ready to admit that yet.
It takes a few minutes but finally Hotch concedes ("C'mon, you just learned you have another incredible, wonderful, absolutely stunning son, don't you want to spend some quality bonding time with him?") and he takes Roy to the building cafeteria, ignoring the stunned looks of the team. He's sure they're going to be talking about this for days. (Him? Taking a lunch break? Are pigs flying yet?)
At the end of the day, Roy grins at him, thanks him for lunch, and leaves. There's a pang in Hotch's chest as he realizes he'll miss him. How strange to feel such attachment after only meeting some eight hours ago. He wonders if Roy will stop by again, or if he'll never see him again. He secretly hopes it's not the latter.
2. Dick Dick's Proxy
The next one is a complete fluke, Hotch will not believe otherwise. But it’s a coincidental fluke that… somehow happens.
It goes like this: they get their next case and fly to Keystone. Rossi and Reid head to the crime scene while the rest of them take the other SUV to the station. After settling in, Hotch goes with Prentiss to the ME’s office to get the rundown on the victims so far. That’s where things get weird. Not bad weird, and not related to the case weird, just… going to give him a headache weird. Because he walks in, unsuspecting that he's about to get blindsided with Prentiss as a witness.
The ME hears them walk in, back to them and hunched over a desk, furiously writing something down. “Be right with you!”
He and Prentiss wait, looking around the room, eyes catching on the two bodies laid out (covered by white sheets), cataloguing the organized chaos of the ME’s desk, the shock of red hair against the white lab coat, the brightly coloured runners (a shoelace undone) and the mini fridge under the desk (what was that for?).
“Done!” the ME exclaims, then spins and starts towards them, immediately tripping over the untied shoelace.
Really, he should somehow have seen this coming the moment the case was announced in Keystone. "Expect the unexpected", and all that. As it is, he’s almost too late in piecing it together, suspicions unfortunately low even when he’d seen the red hair. (One isn't a pattern, two might be a coincidence, but he wasn't prepared for it to become a whole Thing™.) So when the medical examiner spots him and exclaims, “Dad!” … he really should have been expecting it.
Still, it takes him a few seconds to scroll through his mental list of names and figure out which one this is, Prentiss side-eyeing him the whole time, looking like she’s wondering if she should step in or not, but also definitely mentally cataloguing this to spill the gossip when they get back to the team.
“Wally,” he sighs, but it’s hard not to feel at least the slightest bit of affection when his eyes light up and his smile widens.
“Knew you’d never forget your favourite son,” he says cheekily.
Hotch raises an eyebrow. “Favourite, huh?”
“Yep,” he says, popping the p.
Prentiss is staring at him and he knows he’s in for it when they get back to the SUV, but in the meantime…
"Aaron Hotchner, he/him, and apparently your father. This is SSA Emily Prentiss," he introduces for the sake of normality, and also Emily.
"She/her, lovely to meet any son of Hotch's." She grins.
"He/him. Well, we can catch up later, Dad, and I can remind you why I'm your favourite. Now, let me tell you two about Sylvia Waters and Mohammed Pérez.”
Prentiss has the decency to wait til they’re driving back to the station before smirking at him. “Soooo, your son’s a doctor.”
He sighs. She probably chose this moment carefully, because if she’d started before he’s started driving, he can’t be certain he wouldn’t’ve gotten right back out and started walking instead. He likes her cunning mind, she’s a brilliant profiler, and he’s glad to have her on his team. However, he does prefer when she doesn’t pin her gaze on him.
“Yes, a medical examiner. I'm so proud,” he says dryly, even though the statement is true. He may have just met Wally under an hour ago, but he's proud of the young man's accomplishments. He knows the team has teased him about being very Dad Coded™, this is just proving them right. He finds that he doesn't mind the claim.
“Hmm.” She smirks. He feels like he’s on the receiving end of an interrogation. “Is this one related to the other one then?”
“Hm?”
“The one that actually made you stop for a decent lunch break. What’s-his-name.” She's baiting him and they both know it.
“Roy. And this was Wally,” he says tiredly.
“Uh huh.” She lets it go for the rest of the drive but the smirk never leaves her face.
Eventually the case ends and their flight is planned for later that day. Leaving the team some time to decompress, eat or relax before needing to be ready.
Wally catches him alone at the precinct, cleaning up. "Hey, Dad," he grins.
"Wally," he responds. "Are you off for the day?"
"Yup, and I hear you have a few hours before you leave…"
Hotch looks up from organizing the files and raises an eyebrow.
"You up for breakfast?"
"Breakfast?" He looks at his watch.
"There's this great diner that serves breakfast all-day. Best place ever, you'll like it."
Hotch only considers it only a moment before accepting.
Later, his phone buzzes with messages from the team, wondering where he is, saying they're getting food together. He tells them to go on, he's already eaten, and goes back to his conversation with his fake son.
He gets on the plane and Prentiss pins him with another look.
She gasps. "You didn't eat alone! You blew us off for Wally!"
He sighs and doesn't say anything. That's confirmation enough for his team, though, and they pester him about "his other son", teasing smiles on their faces, for half the flight back. Secretly, he doesn't mind.
3. Duke Duke's Proxy
It was an innocuous application for a class field trip to Quantico. Hotch, truthfully, liked doing them, but wasn’t a fan of it potentially interfering with responding to a case. Strauss, however, didn’t ask his opinion, told him in no uncertain terms to do it, and said they’d use their other teams in the case of emergencies and that it’d only be a few hours. He sighed, not given a choice, and started planning, unsuspecting of the headache on the horizon.
“Hi, Dad!”
“That’s your dad?!”
“Your dad’s an FBI agent?!”
“Your dad works here?!”
"Nepotism-coded."
"You don't even know what nepotism is, Anna."
Twenty school kids start blabbering and taking over each other as their gazes ping-pong between their teacher and Hotch.
He doesn’t have to think too hard this time to figure out this one's identity: red hair, glasses, wheelchair, teacher. Her name had been on the application for the field trip. “Barbara,” he greets dryly.
“Yes, this is my dad,” she tells her wide-eyed students, then flashes him with a teasing grin.
"Poggers."
"Poggers is so unc now."
"You're unc."
“Won’t your dad object to this?” he asks, futilely but curious.
“Who? My dad with the badge and gun?” She smirks. “I think he’ll survive. What do you think, kids? Can we all behave for my dad and his team today?”
A chorus of enthusiastic (and not so enthusiastic) agreement sounds. She grins at him again.
Barbara was having entirely too much fun with this. He sighs and accepts it, but staunchly refuses to show his amusement on the basis that his team did not need any more fuel. (Morgan, Reid and Prentiss were cackling in the background already.) “Come on, everyone, this way. We’ve got a presentation for you and then you can ask us some questions and we’ll end with a tour and some snacks, sound good?”
They cheer behind him (definitely for the snacks).
Barbara's class is surprisingly well behaved and no one gets lost on their short tour, which may be a first. They devour the snacks afterwards, and then it's time to go.
"See you, Dad." Barbara waves and ushers her class out to the bus.
"Take care. Safe drive back."
The doors close behind the class and Hotch feels his team's eyes burning into him.
"Back to work," he says. "I know you all have at least a couple reports to finish. I want those on my desk by the end of the day."
"Ah, the deflection tactic," JJ teases as they follow him to the elevators.
"Do you think if we finish before the end of the day he'll let us ask our questions?" Spencer muses.
"I wish you luck, pretty boy, you're the only one who's got a chance at that," Morgan says.
"Speak for yourself," Prentiss chimes in.
Dave waits to ambush him when they're alone walking to their offices. "That redhead gene must be really strong in you," he teases.
"Reports, Dave."
4. Tim Tim's Proxy
Hotch doesn't know what he should have been expecting, but as much as he could try to expect the unexpected… it was the unexpected and he didn't know what to expect. Clearly.
They're in Central City on a case this time, working late into the evening, and had decided to order dinner to the precinct.
He's not expecting the food to be delivered by (yet another) redhead who announces themself with an enthusiastic, "Hi, Pops!"
Everyone in the near vicinity looks up and watches their delivery person stack their boxes precariously on the corner of the table. A headache starts growing.
This is the youngest of them yet. The others looked to be closer to 30, but this one seems closer to 20.
"What? No greeting for poor, ol' me?" What is with these redheads and their affinity for puppy dog eyes?
He's tired, forgive him, it's been a long day and he doesn't know this one's name. Thankfully, most of the officers have turned away, but his team is still watching, captivated with thinly veiled amusement.
"Aw, c'mon you don't remember me? You just met my cousin!"
Cousin? He tries to remember his mental list- ahh, was this… "Bart."
"Crash! That's me! Bartumus Barticus Hotchner, he/him!"
Hotch is pretty sure that's not his name, and watches, with a sort of shocked fascination, as Bart makes the rounds shaking everyone's hands quickly.
"I know you're working, and really, if you asked me, I'd question those bartenders down at Juno's, what kind of bartenders don't know their bouncers? Anyways, enjoy the food. See you around, Pops!" And just like that, he's gone, darting through the precinct and disappearing out the front door.
"Well," Prentiss starts.
"Not a word," he says immediately.
"Until the case is over." Spencer nods.
"How'd he know about the bar?" Morgan asks.
"And all our names…" Rossi muses.
JJ frowns, shrugging. "It could be worth checking out."
Hotch sighs and nods. "Morgan, Prentiss, eat something and then head over there, it should be open."
5. Damian Damian's Proxy
Aaron wakes up to three people in his house, not including himself.
He hears Jack and Jessica’s voices and remembers she stayed the night because his apartment is five minutes closer to her work than her own. He’s slowly getting out of bed when he hears another voice. Who else was in his house?
He leaves his room and walks to the kitchen where Jessica is eating breakfast at the table, a child on either side of her. His own and… the headache is back. He sighs, where did your family keep finding all these redheads?
"Good morning, Aaron," Jessica greets when she notices him.
"Morning. How did you sleep?"
She smiles. "Perfectly fine. Sometimes I think your guest bed is comfier than my own," she teases.
"Hi, Dad!" Jack grins.
"Hi, Dad!" repeats the redhead, wearing a similar grin.
Jessica just smirks and bites into her toast, which means this child explained why they were here, to her and Jack. Hopefully. How did this kid get here?
"You never told me I had so many siblings, Dad." Jack blinks innocently. Yep, definitely aware.
He sighs. "I forgot about them all," he deadpans.
Both kids gasp dramatically.
"So unc, fam."
"I think this calls for forgiveness waffles," Jack says gravely.
His companion nods sagely. "Bet. Are you telling us you don’t remember all your sons’ names?"
Aaron hesitates. He… doesn't know who this is. He's gone over his mental list a hundred times since he saw the red hair sitting at his kitchen table and for the life of him he can't think of another one, let alone this young. But maybe if he changes the parameters and goes through his list of children… there's Damian, the youngest of the siblings, Roy has a kid (he is a redhead but he doesn’t recall his kid sharing that gene), and… and Damian's friend. Whom he cannot remember the name of.
"Bruh, you don't remember your own son's name?"
Aaron blinks. "Please never call me that again," he begs.
"Bet, but only if you call me by my name. I’ll call you by yours.”
He receives a wink and a smirk and inhales deeply. He starts praying.
"Rumplestiltskin," Jessica jokes, putting her dishes away.
"It's giving cringe, Auntie J."
Aaron sighs.
Jessica chuckles. "My bad. Well, I’m off to work, have a good day, you three. Good luck," she teases him and waves them all goodbye.
"Have a good day at work," he calls.
"Bye, Aunt Jess!"
"Bye, Auntie J!"
"Waffles, huh?" he asks the kids.
"Bet."
"Forgiveness waffles." Jack nods astutely.
"Waffles it is."
"Are you gonna guess his name?" Jack asks as Aaron grabs the mix.
"Do I get any hints?"
"Same letter as me." Both boys lean forward on their elbows on the kitchen table, matching mischief in their expressions.
"'J', hmm, let me think." He goes about making the batter and getting the griddle heated up. "Jack," he jokes.
"That's me." Jack rolls his eyes. "Not my brother."
"Facts."
At least Aaron can be reassured that this game of fake siblings doesn't seem to be hurting Jack.
"Hmm." He ponders as he prepares the waffles, tossing out random names, "Jackson", "Jason", "Jeremy", "Jonathan". The last one gets a weird giggle and Aaron narrows his eyes.
"Not Jonathan?"
"Nope!" The redhead shakes his head so aggressively, the red hair is displaced, letting a strand or two of dark hair peak out. "Ah!" he squawks, hands flying to adjust the wig atop his head. "My hair! I'm balding already! Why didn't I get the good genes!"
"Negative aura points for you," Jack commiserates, shaking his head dramatically.
"You're about to catch these hands."
Jack just laughs.
Aaron has to wonder why there is a child wearing a red wig in his house, but that will be a question for after breakfast. He slides two waffles onto two plates. "John?" he asks instead.
More cackling. "Nah."
"I think he's cooked," Jack giggles as Aaron puts their plates in front of them. "I think we gotta tell him."
The other boy sighs dramatically and laments, "Bet. Soon I will have no concept of a name left."
Jack laughs again and it warms Aaron's heart to see him getting along so well with… well, with his other fake son.
"Alright, you can tell him."
"Dad, this is Jan, your other son, the redhead," Jack introduces with a mischievous grin.
"Jan?" Aaron raises his eyebrows.
"Jan Hotchner, slaying in my redhead era." He pretends to flip his hair. (His wig stays still this time.)
"Well-" Aaron serves himself "-welcome to the family, Jan. I'm glad my red hair genes got passed along to you so strongly," he says sarcastically.
The boys snicker into their food.
"Thanks! These waffles are bussin, Dad."
He breathes deeply. "Thank you."
+1. Bru… [loading] … [error] … [???] … [no subject found]
There's another redhead standing outside the bullpen and Hotch is tired. No matter that they finished their most recent case yesterday and he was able to get a fairly good night's sleep in before coming back to Quantico. He doesn't think he can think of any more names. He wants this semi-permanent headache to go away.
"Hello," he greets as he exits the elevator.
Their hair swishes against their shoulders as they turn and smile at him. "Hello."
"Have we met before?"
They blink. "I- I don't believe so?"
Hotch stops next to them and tries not to stare too hard. "Apologies, I don't know if I know your name."
"Oh, I'm Lillian Rose. She/her."
Hmm. Not a name that rings a bell, but that didn't necessarily mean anything... "Nice to meet you, Lillian. I'm Aaron Hotchner, he/him. What brings you here?"
"Oh, I was hoping to talk to someone here, I can come back at another time if that would be more convenient?"
Hotch blinks. Ok, maybe this wasn't a redhead who was going to claim they were related. "No, no, that won't be necessary. I'm sorry, what can I help you with?"
She shifts on her feet, eyes flicking around the landing, uncomfortable or nervous. "I was hoping to talk to cyber crimes, I think my company has some suspicious files, but I think I got off on the wrong floor." She lets out a flustered laugh.
"Oh, of course, cyber crimes is the fifth floor, we're on the seventh. Just down two."
"Thank you, I appreciate it." She gives him a warm smile and for some reason it sets off warning bells in the back of his mind.
"No problem, I can escort you there, if you like?"
"No, thank you. I'll be alright now that I know where I'm going. Nice to meet you, Agent Hotchner."
"You as well." He watches her get into the elevator and she waves as the doors close. There was something about her… He starts towards Penelope's office when JJ cuts him off. He can tell by the look on her face, "We've got a case?"
She nods. "I texted the team, Rossi is picking up Spencer on his way, Emily and Morgan are both on their way up."
"Ok, I'll head to the conference room."
"Who were you talking to?" she asks.
He frowns at the elevator. "Lillian Rose. She got off on the wrong floor."
"Not another child of yours?" she jokes.
"No… no, she didn't say."
"Ok." JJ frowned at him, confused by his demeanour. "Did she seem… off at all?"
Hotch furrows his brow. "I don't know. So many redheads and my perception is skewed, my first thought was that she was going to say she was related to me."
"But she didn't," JJ checks.
"She didn't," he confirms.
"Well… probably just a lost visitor. I can ask Garcia to pull up the visitor logs when I grab her."
He flashes her a grateful smile. "Thank you."
"You got it. Can't have any mystery family members showing up without introducing themselves," she says lightly.
"Hopefully I've met the last of them. My mental family tree has burnt down. I can only keep track of so many at a time."
"Well, we definitely have a bet going on whether or not you're a secret redhead," she smirks.
He sighs. Of course, they did.