Aaron Hotchner sat at his desk in the living room, the low hum of the evening outside the window mixing with the faint click of keys on his laptop. It was one of those rare quiet moments, where the case files seemed to pause, and the weight of the world lifted just slightly from his shoulders. As he scrolled through the documents in front of him, his mind wandered, but only for a moment. He always kept one ear tuned for the sounds of the house.

He was so used to the routine now—coffee at the ready, case updates stacked neatly to the side, and a child’s laughter or voice echoing through the house. When he'd first become a single father, it had felt overwhelming. How to balance the demands of the job with being there for his child. But now, after so many years, it was just... normal.

The front door creaked open, followed by the faint shuffle of shoes on the floor. Aaron’s head instinctively turned, and he could hear the soft sigh of his child dropping their bag on the floor.

"Hey," he called out, his voice steady but warm.

His child appeared in the doorway, still wearing the familiar high school uniform, the edges of their backpack dragging against the floor. Aaron gave them a brief smile, the same smile he'd worn countless times since becoming their parent. It was a soft, reassuring expression.