Author's Note: Enjoy this one-shot, guys. It might seem inappropriate between Jack and Emily, but you have to be able to interpret it in the right way for it not to be incestuous.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I promise.

The cold rain bore down onto Jack Hotchner's fifteen-year-old head. He had an umbrella in his backpack, but he was too lazy to pull it out. He groaned and pulled his hood over his head.

"Damn it," he muttered, ducking his head down as he walked past a group of junkies.

"Hey kid! Wanna fix?" one of them slurred drunkenly. Jack ignored them but slipped his hand into his pocket where he kept his small switchblade. He fingered it cautiously as he continued on, avoiding eye contact with the homeless gangbangers. He'd always been afraid of them, and he still was.

He slipped into an empty alley and slumped next to a foul-smelling dumpster. He pulled out his phone and covered it with his hood to discover fourteen unread text messages and even double missed calls. They were all from his parents.

Jack, honey, please come home one of them read. That one was from Emily. He flipped through the rest, consisting of the same plea. He angrily jammed his phone into his pocket as tears began to fall down his face.

-At the Hotchner residence-

Emily stared out the window, tears flowing out of her red-rimmed eyes.

"Emily…" Hotch started. She shook her head.

"Don't, Aaron," she warned, sobbing silently.

"Emily, he'll come home soon, I promise. I know my son," he convinced.

"No, Aaron. You don't know your- our son. He wouldn't have gone if you hadn't said that to him," she argued angrily.

"So this is my fault now?" he asked, trying to remain calm. It wasn't working too well.

"Yes, Aaron! Finally, it got into your thick brain!" she shouted in an exasperated tone.

"I'm sorry, but what he did was out of the line!" he shouted back. Emily sighed.

"Oh my God, Aaron, for heaven's sakes! He's a kid. He doesn't know any better!" her tone elevated.

"Emily, are you saying you're okay with our son vandalizing the entirety of his school's wall?" Hotch yelled.

"No, Aaron. That's not what I'm saying at all. It's not like he got in jail or anything!"

"Oh, so he has to go jail first for you to care?"

"God damn it, Aaron! Shut up! Just, just shut up!" she screamed, brushing past him. He grabbed her arms to try and stop her, but he accidentally made his grip tighter than he had initially wanted to.

"Aaron, what the hell? That hurts!" she shouted, wriggling out of his grasp. He let go immediately.

"I-I'm sorry, Emily," he stuttered.

"Yeah, save it," she seethed. She pushed him back into the couch and ran into the bedroom, but he caught up to her. He grabbed her forcefully.

"Aaron, let the fuck go," she growled. He didn't let go, so she began to twist out of his grip. Her attempts failing, she started attacking his shins with her bare feet.

"Emily, stop struggling. We need to talk," he shouted.

"Let go!" she screamed. He kept his hold on her. She finally escaped his firm grip and pushed him once again. She began to slap his arms away and successfully locked the bedroom door behind her.

"Damn it!" he screamed, slamming his hands down on the coffee table.

-Wherever Jack is-

"Whoever's up there, please let me know I'm doing the right thing," Jack pleaded, looking skyward as the rain stung his face. His phone vibrated once more.

Jack, Dad and I got into a fight. I'm going to Aunt JJ's apartment for a while. If you need to talk, call me Emily's message read. Tears spilled over from his eyes onto his phone. He rummaged in his backpack and pulled out a picture frame. Encased safely from the rain behind a glass sheet was a picture of Jack giving Emily a piggyback ride. She was so light and frail, he remembered. The photo had been taken just a month before. He sobbed and held it close to his chest.

"Emily, I'm so sorry," he cried, talking to nobody but himself. He hunched over the frame as his body wracked with tears. He wrapped it back up in his t-shirt and placed it gently in his backpack. He hitched it back onto his shoulder and continued to walk. He didn't know where; he just wanted to get far away from home. Far away from where he knew his dad would give him hell; far away from Emily's disapproving looks. He was snapped from his trance as his phone rang, indicating a call. He checked the caller ID.

"M-mom?" he asked.

Emily let out an enormous sigh.

"Oh my God, Jack…" she whispered.

"Mom, I'm fine," he assured her, more tears threatening to spill.

"Oh, Jack… P-please come home baby," she quivered. The tears finally went. She hadn't called him baby since he was at least eight years old.

"Mom, I can't go home," he cried.

"B-but why not?" she asked childlike.

"Dad's gonna whoop my ass," he muttered.

"No, he won't," she lied.

"Mom, don't lie. I know him well enough," he said firmly.

"I know, but I just need to see you and know that you're alright," she said quietly.

"Mom, I'm talking to you on the phone. Isn't that enough?" he asked, knowing the answer.

"No! No, Jack. W-where are you?" she asked.

"I'm on the corner of Fifth Street and Manor Court," he said.

"What? You're outside? Baby, its freezing and raining," she scolded, grabbing her jacket and making her way to the car.

"Mom, I'm fine. I'll see you when you get here," he said, hanging up. He leaned up against the street lamp, waiting for his mom to come.

"Jack!" he heard his mother shout. He turned to see his poor mother, hurrying toward him, soaking wet.

"Mom!" he gasped, running towards her. He pulled her into a hug and dragged her under the awning of a nearby closed café.

"Jack," she cried into his shoulder. She was a little shorter than him, so she was on her tiptoes. He pulled out his umbrella and held it over her, relying on the shield of his hood.

"Mom," he sighed, kissing her hair. She snuggled into him.

"Please come home, Jack. The car is already warmed up. Please, just, just come home," she sobbed. He held her tighter.

"Of course I will, Mom," he promised.

"I love you so much, baby," she whispered.

"I love you too."

The End!