Never Together Nor Apart

[Chapter 1]

Hotch's POV:

My heart's racing, my breathing heavy. We may be divorced but I still love her, a part of me always will. The phone, I need to call him. My stomach jolts when he answers.

"Agent Hotchner," His slimy voice calls out.

"If you touch her," I begin.

"I'll be gentle, like I was with you," He calmly replies, "What the hell took you so long? I was beginning to think this phone was dead or something."

I don't answer, I focus on the road.

"Why so quiet? You usually lash out when you're frustrated."

I lothe the sound of his voice.

"I'm not frustrated. You're more predictable than you think," My reply is short, voice level.

"Am I?" Two words come through.

"You didn't know where Haley was, so you made her come to you," I use our profile against him.

"You make me sound lazy," I can practically see his smile as his voice creepily growls.

"Just another way for you to show control."

Control, which he didn't like to give up.

"Oh, that's terrible," He states.

"Your mother tried to protect you from your father, but she wasn't strong enough and you hated her for that, didn't you?" I let my anger out a bit, calling out his childhood rage, "You decided that all women were weak."

"Those are you words, not mine," He hides his madness well, but I know it's there.

"What were you, 9 when you killed them?" I poke once more.

"It was a car accident," He sticks to his tale.

"That you couldn't take credit for. That had to be hard for you, but poor George got another chance. The little orphan was saved by the wealthy, sterile Eastside couple, the Foyets. The story should have ended there," I bring his adoptive parents in the mix.

"I don't believe in fairy tales. Do you?" He directs the question on me, trying to gain control.

"That's the thing George. This isn't a fairy tale, you don't have to write this story. You don't have to do any of this. I know you're exhausted. Always looking over your shoulder, always wondering when the other shoe is gonna drop. Haven't you gotten what you wanted? You've set yourself apart from anybody we've ever dealt with. You're not just a famous serial killer, you're The Reaper," I try a new tactic, in which I give him the decision, "We're gonna study you and your methods for years and years."

He finally speaks, giving me more entail.

"You know what I've been thinking? Haley looks pretty good with dark hair. She's lost some weight, must be all the stress you caused her," He deflects all my comments and questions, trying to trigger me.

I hear a ringing.

"That's your wife. Hold please."

"Mrs. Hotchner," He states in a professional tone.

He must be using another disposable cell phone.

"I'm here," Haley's meek voice answers.

"Open the gate and I'll drive in," He states in a taughting way.

"Ok," She goes along with him.

I hear a click, letting me know he hung up on her.

"Aaron, I really gotta go," He hangs up on me, I continue driving on the verge of tears.