If Hotch ever knew the feeling of relief, it would be this moment.

Two days ago, he had been abducted while stopping for gas on the way home. At first, he was calm and collected, before he himself knew it he was already profiling the guy while he was getting shoved in a van. That is, until he woke up in what looked like an old basement, and it was like his worst nightmare come true. You, his child, his baby, tied to a chair with a rag in your mouth, bleeding from your head with a terrified look in your eyes.

Hotch had tried his best to calm you in that moment, having not had a gag in his own mouth. But that quickly turned to trying to get the unsubs to forget you were even there, to having all their attention on himself. And in a way, they did hurt him, but in a way he never thought they would, even as a profiler. They chose to just make him watch as you became the subject to their sadistic torture. Burns, cuts, beatings, you were the only one they hurt. He'll never forget the way to begged him to please make them stop.

"Shh," He soothes you, his hand coming to the back of your head to keep you cradled to his chest as his teammates put cuffs on the unsubs. "It's okay now, you're okay." He whispers, kissing the top of your head gently. "I'm right here, they won't hurt you again." The way you tremble so hard in his arms, with those broken sounds coming out of you is the final piece that shatters his heart into microscopically little pieces. He has failed to protect his own child.