Her Mother's Daughter - Hotchniss

chapter one: honey, honey

"I'd heard about him before / I wanted to know some more"

-

Bridget was quite used to settling in for the night without her mother at home; that particular night, though, her mother called her twice. One went unanswered, as Bridget was in the bathroom and didn't see or hear her phone; the other was heard and Bridget picked up immediately.

"Hey, sorry, I didn't have my phone on me, took me a second,"

"Oh, it's fine, honey. Uh, I'm really sorry, I...don't think I'm gonna make it home. We just got a case, I have to go to South Carolina tonight. Sorry, Bridge,"

"Oh, no, it's fine, I get it,"

"I'm sorry, honey. I really was looking forward to dinner tonight,"

"I know, Mom, it's— it's really okay,"

"You sure?"

"Yes," Bridget chuckled. "I'm fine,"

"All right. I love you,"

"Love you, too. I'll let you go, you probably have to get on the jet soon,"

"Yeah—" From far away over the phone, Bridget could hear someone calling for her mom. "I'm sorry, honey, I gotta go. But your, your present is in the top left drawer of my dresser, in a gift box. You'll see it. I don't want you to have to wait until I get back, you can open it tonight. I love you, sweetheart, happy birthday,"

"Love you, too, Mom. Bye,"

"Bye." Emily hung up and followed Morgan out. "Tonight of all nights. Seriously?"

"Tell that to the unsub," said Morgan with a laugh as they walked. "Why, you got big plans?"

"It's my daughter's sixteenth birthday. I was gonna take her to dinner tonight, but, y'know,"

"She's sixteen, she'll understand." Emily sighed and shook her head. "What, you don't think she'll get over it?"

"No, it's not that. The opposite. She completely gets it. She's never upset that I miss things, not to my face, anyway. For the past five years, with this team, she's been one hundred percent understanding with me and this job. I take her for granted sometimes, I think."

—

Bridget opened her mom's drawer and dug through the clothes to find a box. Half-underneath the box was a bunch of Polaroids paper-clipped together. Bridget pulled out both and smiled as she sat on her mom's bed and looked through the photos.

In all of the photos except for a few, her mother was clearly unhappy about her picture being taken. She ranged in age from about 17 to 24. Bridget's grandmother had joked about 'young Emily's photography phase', which Emily later explained was her strict, controlling mother's way of holding her accountable for where she was, what she was doing, and how she was dressed. Bringing a fucking camera. It was obnoxious, sort of creepy, and embarrassing: everything about it screamed Elizabeth Prentiss.

One photo where she didn't look so despondent was taken in what appeared to be a bar with a familiar man, older than her. Hotch, her mother's boss, Bridget realized. But this picture couldn't have been taken recently. She looked at what was written on it.

Stupid Aaron Hotchner and I at the bar — May '94

Her mom would've been off to Yale soon after, as she moved away from Bridget's grandmother as soon as she could. This was dated as one of the last photos. Bridget had about a hundred questions. Why was Agent Hotchner there? Why did her mom decide to take that picture? Why would she show that to her mother?

Bridget tried to snap out of it and opened her gift. It was a bumblebee necklace she had wanted a few months prior. She smiled wide and put it around her neck.

—

"Have you talked to Bridget yet?" Hotch asked Emily in a low voice on the jet.

"No. I told you before I told her anything,"

"Yes, but you told me months ago. A lot can happen in several months." Emily looked down. It was fifteen months since Haley had died. A year that past November.

"I did leave her something tonight. When we were...uh, we took a picture that night at the bar. Must've been pretty wasted already. I have a bunch of photos, I left them where I knew she'd find them. Somewhere it could be believable that I didn't mean for her to find them. There's only one of us, don't worry," she chuckled. Hotch curled one side of his mouth into what could almost be seen as a smile.

"So you haven't told her yet?"

"No, not yet. We'll talk when I get back. But knowing her she'll—" Emily's phone buzzed.

"Is that her?" Hotch asked. Emily flashed her phone, showing a notification from her daughter. Hotch smiled, for real this time.

[bridget prentiss] thank you for the necklace omg it's so pretty
[bridget prentiss] uh i also found some polaroids of you lol
[bridget prentiss] i didn't mean to snoop tho sorry lol

Bridget realized what a dumb idea it was to tell her mom she'd done something wrong. Not her best move.

[emily prentiss] It's okay, sweetheart. I'm glad you like the necklace. I don't even remember what I took pictures of back then haha
[emily prentiss] But your grandma always says you look exactly like I used to

[bridget prentiss] hmmm i guess i kinda see it lol
[bridget prentiss] there's one of you and hotch tho??? when did you guys even meet this pic is dated may 1994??

[emily prentiss] He did security for grandma way back in the day, I was leaving for Yale right after he came

[bridget prentiss] oh that's so interesting
[bridget prentiss] well you've probably got stuff to do i'll let you get back to it lol bye

[emily prentiss] Bye ❤️

Emily sighed and put her phone down. Hotch raised his eyebrows. "She knows it's you, so that's something. Only a matter of time,"

"She'll realize that May is nine months before February, won't she?"

"Probably. She's clever," Emily credited. "I don't think she'd text me about that, though, she'd at least call." Hotch chuckled.

"Let me know if there are any developments?"

"Of course,"

"Alright."