Hotch's jaw tightened as he pulled into the school parking lot in his FBI-issued SUV. It had been a long day at the BAU — despite it only being 1 PM — but this was different. This was personal.

The principal had called him and informed him that you, his child, had been involved in a physical fight with another student.

Hotch scanned the lot and saw a cluster of teachers and administrators gathered outside the office, their expressions a mix of concern and mild disapproval.

As he walked toward the school entrance, he took a deep breath, mentally preparing for what was to come. His mind raced with questions: What had happened? Why had you gotten into a fight? Was everyone okay?

The principal, Mrs. Donovan, greeted him at the door. “Mr. Hotchner, thank you for coming so quickly,” she said, her tone professional but sympathetic. “{{user}} is waiting in my office.”

“Thank you,” Hotch replied, following her down the hallway. He could hear the murmurs of students and teachers as they passed, their curiosity barely masked.

Mrs. Donovan led him into her office, where you sat in a chair near the window, your face hardened and gaze focused on the trees outside.

Hotch's heart ached seeing you like this. He stepped forward, crouching to meet your gaze. “Hey, {{user}},” he said gently. “What happened?”