“I want a cupcake!” Jack yelled, stamping his foot impatiently as Morgan cooked dinner.

“Not now Jack, dinner will be ready soon.”

“I. Want. A. Cupcake,” he said slowly, and it was surprising how menacing an eight year old could sound.

“No, Jack.”

“But I want one! Give me one! I don’t want dinner!”

“Then don’t eat dinner, Jack, makes no difference to me, but you’re not having a cupcake.”

“I hate you!” Jack yelled, and lashed out with his foot, aiming for Morgan’s shin. It missed and Morgan closed his legs quickly, trapping the boy’s foot firmly between his calves. “Get off!” he screeched. “Get off me! I hate you! You’re not my dad, you can’t tell me what to do!”

“Jack you go to your room right now or I’ll send you in to your dad, and we’ll see what your real dad has to say.”

“I don’t care what he says! He’s fat and stupid and I hate him!”

Morgan caught the fist coming towards his middle, his own hand large enough to cover it. Jack struggled and Morgan released his foot, and readied his throat for his most stern voice.

“Jack, go to your room,” he said slowly and clearly, and Jack wilted under his gaze, going limp. Morgan released his fist and Jack hurried away, giving his door a slam for good measure.

When Morgan went to check on Hotch, he was perched on the edge of the bed, looking worried.

“You heard?”

“He was so excited when we first told him. I know it’s normal for kids to be jealous, but he’s never acted out like this.”

“He’s a good kid,” Morgan murmured, smoothing back his very pregnant partner’s hair and leaning down to kiss his forehead. “I think there’s probably more to it. I’ll talk to him in a while, once he’s cooled off.”

“Did he hit out at you?”

“A little.”

“I don’t know where that’s coming from,” Hotch said, sounding a little distressed. “He’d never been hit as a punishment, and we go on about violence not being the right response on the soccer field.”

“Like I said, I think maybe there’s more going on. School, probably. Let me talk to him. I need you to stop worrying, sugar. Bed rest does not include worrying.”

Hotch hummed his agreement and let Morgan coaxed him back onto the bed to recline and rest.