Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal minds

Summary: Emily has two kids that the team doesn't know about, how will the team react when a series of events cause her to face her worst fears. Takes place beginning of season three. H/P

A/N: Takes place – or starts rather – during In Birth and Death. Oh, in this story, Hotch is divorced by this episode.

~Silent Sounds~

"A baby will make love stronger, days shorter, nights longer, home happier, clothes shabbier, the past forgotten, and the future worth living for, " ~??

Chapter 1

Hotch hesitated outside of her apartment. When she told him she was resigning, it baffled him. It had to go beyond her just wanting to leave. And then it clicked. He read between the lines and saw her for who she truly was. He admired her for it too, so now he felt awful for not giving her enough credit when she first joined the BAU.

The rest of his team was in Milwaukee. A place he desperately wanted to be, but he wasn't going to go unless she went with him. There was no doubt in his mind that he would be able to convince her to come– or so he thought until he knocked on the door.

Sighing, he waited patiently. Somewhere inside the apartment, a television set was playing loudly, tuned to some Disney movie. He recognized it as The Lion King. It was Jack's favorite movie, and Hotch had seen it so many times he could recite it word from word. He was sick of it by now, but it was the only movie Jack would watch. Frowning slightly, he looked at the number on the door again. This was her apartment wasn't it? However, before he could decide if it was or not, the door edged open by barely a crack.

Hotch leaned forward as he regarded the strikingly blue eye peaking out from behind the door. An eye that definitely didn't belong to Prentiss. Instead, it belonged to a young boy with dark hair, who was perhaps seven or eight, and could have been his subordinate's clone. The fragrant aroma of McDonald's, wafted out from the kitchen. It made Hotch's stomach growl appreciatively, which made him realize that he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast that morning.

"I'm sorry," Hotch stuttered, glancing at the apartment number once more. "I think I got the wrong…"

"Hotch?"

He glanced up again to find Prentiss standing behind the boy. He wasn't sure what surprised him more. The boy in the doorway or the other child balanced on her hip. The fact that they both held a startling resemblance to the woman he worked with caused him to freeze and do a double take. Prentiss never mentioned kids. Even if they weren't hers, she hadn't said anything about a niece or nephew, let alone a sibling. And because she failed to mention this in the last five month since she joined the team, they eyed each other with a silent dialogue.

"Who's he," the boy asked, breaking both of them from their trance.

Hotch found his voice first. "Can I come in?"

"No," the boy snapped, and Emily's face morphed into utter shock and anger.

"Max, watch your mouth," she scowled. "Take your sister upstairs."

The boy grumbled something under his breath as he took the little girl from Emily's arms. The young girl whined slightly at the transfer. She couldn't have been anymore than five, but the child already looked exactly like Emily. He wondered if they were really hers. Then he wondered why she hadn't told anyone about them if they were.

Stepping into her apartment and ignoring what he just saw, he told her, "The team needs us. They're taking a case in Milwaukee. Gideon hasn't shown up, and don't tell me you quit or put in for a transfer."

Emily huffed as she reached for the remote to stop the movie. It paused, stopping at the infamous scene, Hakuna Matata. He briefly wondered why the subtitles were on, but this thought was pushed aside when she slowly turned to face him. At first, it looked like she was going to say something – perhaps about the kids – but decided with, "You put in for a transfer?"

Hotch took a quick glance around her apartment. The various toys that engulfed the floor and pictures of the two kids that covered the walls told him that there was at least some blood relation between them. He felt his blood boil that there was no man in any of the pictures. Had he left her? He had so many questions running through his head, but the only one he found himself saying was, "They're both still hung up in the system, so technically were still liable to be there."

"I'm sorry. I can't go," she told him sternly.

"Right, sorry I barged in." It took all of his strength and energy to walk away from her. Thankfully, she stopped him.

"Wait. Wait. That's all you have to say?" She was angry, and he felt awful that he was the reason. "You find two kids with me and you don't even question it."

"It's none of my business."

She nodded, accepting his answer. "They're mine," she told him, and then before he could reply to that, she added, "Why are you really here?"

"I told you." She gave him a look, so he elaborated, "I think Strauss came to you and asked for dirt on me."

"Why would she do that?"

"I think if you have your eyes on top leadership at the FBI, you might want to know who'd stand in your way."

"And what could I have told her?"

She was really agitated now, and he wondered if he knew how much it broke him to see her like this. "That one of my agents might have murdered a suspect in cold blood." Emily raised her eyebrows at that, and he frowned. So maybe she didn't know about that one. He continued anyway, "or another agent might have a serious drug problem which I didn't report. And if Strauss had any evidence, my career would be over. I think she put you on our team and expected something in return. However, to your credit, you quit rather than whisper in her ear."

"I told you I hate politics," was all she had to say.

"Come to Milwaukee," he insisted, completely forgetting about the kids – her kids.

For a moment he could see her spirits visibly rise, but then she glanced at the stairs and that's when he remembered. He saw the light leave her eyes, and he knew then that she wanted to come more than she was letting on. "I can't leave them. I don't spend enough time with them as it is."

"They can come." He wasn't sure why he wanted her to come so bad, but he did. There was something about her that he couldn't let go. She was the best agent he had, and even if he wasn't going to be there in the future, he wasn't going to let the team lose her too. Or at least he told himself that. In reality, he only wanted her to come because he didn't know who he was without her.

Emily frowned at that. "I can't take them with me."

He didn't blame her. He wouldn't bring Jack with him, but he still found himself saying, "Surely you know someone who lives out there."

Hotch watched her hesitate, which was all the proof he needed that he was right. "I don't know… I mean my Nana does, but I don't know…"

"I'll make a deal with you. It you're not packed in a half-hour then I won't bother you anymore. But if you are packed, I want you on that plane."

Emily bit her lip. "I already turned in my badge and gun."

"That's just hardware.

And she grinned at him.

***

Max was sitting on the very top step of the stairs and hanging on every word of his mother's conversation. His little sister was sitting next to him, but it really didn't make a difference. She didn't have her hearing aid in, and even if she had, she would have been too naïve to know what was going on.

He only caught snippets of the conversation. Something about a place called Milk-Walky, and how his mother resigned from her job. When she told him she had a crappy day, he didn't think it was because she quit her job. And now, some creepy man was at the door, talking to her. Max clenched his fist. If he hurt her...

There was a tug on his sleeve and he glanced down to find his sister staring back at him with the same striking blue eyes as his own. This was the only thing they had inherited from their father. It was a burden they held with them; a reminder that they were still their father's children

His sister signed the word daddy with her hand.

"No," he whispered, but then he remembered she didn't have the hearing aid in, so he shook his head.

"He looks like daddy," she told him, not even bothering to sign it.

He gave his sister credit. She could easily sign if she wanted to. After all, since she couldn't hear what she was saying it would have been easier to sign it, but she chose not too. But then again, it wasn't like American-Sign Language had been in her first language. In fact, it had been her second. His too. And if it wasn't for his father, they never would have had to learn that second language.

"Will he hurt her?" she asked him again, her voice full of fear.

There was a beat of silence that seemed to last forever. He thought about his father who he hadn't seen in a year. He thought of the bruises that matted his mother's body when he was around. His father was over six feet tall. He hadn't even reached five foot yet. He remembered the way his mother put herself in harms way, so his dad wouldn't hurt him. It was a promise he wouldn't be able to make.

So, instead of answering that question, he pulled her into his lap and hugged her. "He won't hurt you," he promised, because it was the only one he knew he would be able to keep.

So should I continue????