A/N: I have always been taken by Prentiss's vulnerability in the beginning of "Demonology" and felt it was almost awkward how Hotch didn't go to her and kept the desk safely between them. She's so strong but in that moment she looks so lost and it's stuck with me.
~So when I'm far away, I will always be with you. You will never be alone. So if you feel the need, take my hand and share this night. It will be eternity~ Blessid Union of Souls
Thunder rumbled in the distance, threatening an impending storm. Emily Prentiss shivered slightly and lit the candles that sat on the table in front of her. She moved around the living room, lighting more candles as she went. It wasn't that Emily was afraid of the dark, she told herself, it just never hurt to be prepared.
She knew that she was safe. No one, except for JJ and Hotch, knew she was alive, let alone holed up in Paris. Her physical wounds were healing. The mental and emotional wounds – well they would take some time.
Candles lit and wine in hand, Emily settled onto the couch. She picked up a book, determined to push out all the thoughts of Ian Doyle, the BAU, home.
A loud clap of thunder, practically overheard, paired with a sharp knock at the door, startled Emily, the book she'd dozed off reading slipping from her lap.
Her heart racing, she made her way quietly to the door. She was certain no one knew where to find her. Fighting back panic, she peered through the peep hole.
"Hotch?" she whispered in relief, pulling the door open.
She stepped back, allowing her unit chief to enter. She pushed the door closed, locking it before turning to face him. She had been ignoring his calls for weeks, praying he'd eventually give up. They both knew any contact would put them both in danger and she wasn't ready to answer the questions she knew he had.
She stared ahead, waiting for him to speak. A lump formed in her throat when his eyes met hers.
For a brief moment, Hotch couldn't say anything. He simply stood, taking in the woman in front of him.
Her hair fell in waves down her back, still damp from her earlier shower. Her brown eyes were wide with shock, full of shadows, deep and dark against her strikingly pale skin. She'd lost weight, he noticed, and her tank top rode up over her hips, the scar on her abdomen peeking out beneath the hem. She was barefoot; he'd never realized how much shorter she was than him.
She looked lost, and scared, and it was all he could do not to cross the distance between them and gather her in his arms.
But he was angry and had questions that needed answers.
Another clap of thunder, closer than the last, another flash of lightning, made Emily jump again. Despite the warmth of her apartment she shivered again. She pressed back harder against the door, her eyes meeting his as the lightning threw shadows over them.
"What – "her voice cracked and she swallowed hard "– what are you doing here, Hotch?" barely more than a whisper.
He hated how small she looked; her vulnerability from the horrors she'd endured making her withdraw into herself. He had never seen her so on edge; even during the worst of it with Doyle she'd been confident, never backing down.
Now, it seemed, Doyle had won after all; he'd broken the unbreakable Emily Prentiss.
Hotch wanted him dead. But first they had their own unfinished business.
"Hotch?" She prompted again, raising an eyebrow at him.
He cleared his throat, the haunted look in her eyes weakening his resolve. "I called – "barely louder than a whisper.
Emily nodded. "You shouldn't be here. It isn't safe for you to be here." She couldn't meet his eyes as she verbally pushed him away. The truth was that she was grateful not to be alone anymore.
Hotch nodded. "I know. I – there is still so much we didn't say – couldn't say – before you left. I – "he sighed. "I need answers."
Emily hung her head, her hair falling forward and hiding her face. She knew he'd start asking questions sooner or later. And she knew she owed him answers. She had simply walked away and disappeared with no explanations. She knew Hotch wouldn't just let it go.
"Emily, why didn't you tell us? Why didn't you trust us to help you?" His voice broke.
Another rumble of thunder, flash of lightning lighting up the entry way.
Emily's head shot up, a fire in her eyes replacing the shadows.
"Not trust you!?" She pushed away from the door and stormed past Hotch. He followed her into the living room. "How can you think I didn't – don't – trust you!? You guys are the closest thing I've ever had to a real family! I trust you with my life!" She pushed her hand through her hair as she paced back and forth.
"Then why run? Emily – "Hotch grabbed her arm, forcing her to stop pacing. "Emily, stop. Talk to me. If you trust me – us – why didn't you talk to us? We could have protected you. Helped you."
Emily looked down at Hotch's hand on her arm. Tears welled in her eyes, making them shine.
"Hotch – "she started, the lump in her throat making it almost impossible to talk. She shook her head sadly. "Hotch, I thought if I – if I left, you would all be safe. I'm the one Doyle wanted. Wants." She took a deep breath and met his eyes, the shadows creeping back into hers. "It's complicated, Hotch, there's a lot of history there." A shiver ran through her at the thought of telling Hotch her story; maybe he wouldn't press it . . .
Hotch saw her shiver and pulled her close to him, running his hands up and down her arms. He frowned when she tensed and pulled away from him. He knew she wasn't especially physically affectionate, neither was he, but everything about her spoke to her current need to be held and touched. And everything in him ached to hold her.
Another rumble of thunder broke the tense silence. Hotch sighed and shook his head.
"Then explain it to me. Tell me. Help me understand." He took a tentative step toward her, shoving his hands in his pocket to resist the urge to touch her, hold her.
Emily picked up her wine from the coffee table, draining it in one gulp. She pulled out a second wine glass and filled them both, handing one to Hotch as she sat on the couch. She curled her legs under her, all but disappearing into the corner of the couch.
"Should you be drinking on your pain meds?" Hotch asked before he could stop himself. He chuckled lightly at the scowl she shot him. "Right. Doesn't matter."
He circled around the table, sitting on the other end of the couch, waiting for her to speak. He knew she didn't have to tell him; he also knew that she would eventually. Sometimes it took Emily a while, but she always found someone to share her demons with. It had never been him – the seemed to make it a point to circle around one another, never digging deeper.
He had JJ; she, Rossi. Unfortunately due to the circumstances, Emily had no other options and she knew he, of all people, deserved the truth.
She took another sip of wine, steeling herself for Hotch's reaction when all was said and done.
More thunder, another flash of lightning; Emily jumped again. She stared ahead, watching the rain pelt the picture window on the wall opposite the couch.
"Doyle was an undercover assignment." Hotch nodded; he knew the technical details. "I had to get close, had to find a way for him to let me in. After years of doing anything and everything I could to rebel, it was easy to play this part. To be Lauren and make him fall for me. "She took another sip of wine and licked her lips nervously. "I became his lover." She fidgeted with the glass in her hands, shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She and Hotch and an unspoken agreement to avoid topics like relationships and sex – they had for years.
The tension mounted and Hotch put his hand on her knee, distracted for the briefest moment by how soft her skin was, and squeezed it slightly. She looked at his hand on her knee, brown eyes wide, shock seeping into them. Whether it was from the recounting of her story or the unexpected contact, Hotch wasn't sure.
"Only, I wasn't fifteen anymore. It wasn't about fitting in anymore. I was there to do my job, and I was damn good at it. Too good." A hot tear slid unnoticed down her cheek. "For years he believed the lie. For years I used and manipulated him. I told myself that he was a monster and that he somehow deserved it." Her voice trailed off and she stared unseeing out the window, lost in the memories. "I had myself convinced that it was just an assignment. That I was just doing my job. But you can't give that much of yourself for so long without it affecting you. Changing you. The intimacy go to me. "Tears traced their way down her cheeks; it was so unlike her and he brushed them away with his thumbs.
She turned her head into his touch for a split second, pulling away as lightning flashed again.
"Ultimately, I betrayed his trust. I know I had to; it was my job. The whole reason why I was there. But I became no better than him, manipulating the situation and betraying him so that he'd be caught and put in prison. It was where he belonged, I know that. But that assignment made me feel, for the first time in my career, like I was a monster, too." She shook her head, staring out the window at the rain to avoid making eye contact with Hotch, afraid of what she'd see in the hazel depths.
"I ran to protect you all, not just from Doyle, but from me, too." She finished, her voice husky with emotion.
"Emily, "his voice was heavy with sadness. "Why would you think, even for a minute, that you are anything like the monsters we chase? Or that we would ever need to be protected from you? We've been a team – a family – for over four years. You're surrounded by some of the best profilers in the FBI. We've always been honest with one another. Why stop now, Emily?" she could hear the betrayal he felt in his voice.
She stared into her wine, hating that her eyes had filled with tears and that her lower lip was trembling.
"He knew about you, all of you. He was targeting families. He thought that Declan was dead and that I had killed him. He wasn't going to stop until he took what was important to me. I had to take the fight to him. It was the only way to keep you all safe. "She shook the dark thoughts from her mind. "It was never about whether or not I trusted you. I wasn't afraid of facing Doyle – I was never afraid of him. Not as far as my life was concerned." She finally met Hotch's eyes, the truth tumbling from her lips. "I was – am – afraid of what I've become and what it will do to the lives I touch." Tears fell freely and she stifled a sob.
Another flash of lightning lit the room before the power failed, leaving nothing but the flickering candles for light.
"Emily – "Hotch closed the space between them, setting her wine on the table before taking her in his arms.
He held her in silence, knowing she hadn't said all there was to say. Seeing her so vulnerable unnerved him; he had never been good at this. She needed him, though, and for Emily, he would have walked to the ends of the Earth.
Emily only allowed herself a few minutes to fall apart before she pulled away from Hotch. He wasn't surprised; of his team, she'd never been the one to show emotion or let what they saw or had to do affect her. She was never plagued with nightmares. Her grief assessments had always been quick and to the point.
He was begging to understand her concern. Why she was afraid.
HE was about to speak when she beat him to it.
"I have always known that I'm not like everyone else. Growing up in the world I did, I couldn't afford to be sentimental. Working undercover was the same, or I would have lost me in the lies. I get that." She sipped her wine, mulling over just how much to reveal to Hotch. She'd kept so much hidden from him. But he had risked his life to come to her; she owed him the whole story.
"Something broke in my when I was in Italy when I was fifteen. I – I" she huffed out a sigh, swallowing past the lump in her throat. "After Matthew found that doctor, after the abortion – I know he believed that I was good and worthy of love. But then he spiraled out of control. And his parents are right – it was my fault. If I hadn't been so desperate to fit in none of it would have happened. I'm broken, Hotch, beyond repair. And I'm poison to those who get past the walls and get to close. It was better for me to live than to risk all of your lives." She finished the last of her wine in one swallow and put her glass on the table. She sat, so small in the corner of the couch, so lost; her hands clasped in her lap as she picked at her nails.
"Emily, stop." Hotch put his hand on hers, sure that they'd both reached their limit of physical contact and finding it hard to care. "We're all broken. We've all suffered loss to this job. You're no more like the monster we hunt than I am, than any of us are. You can't blame yourself for any of that. You said Matthew had always challenged the church – he would have with or without your experiences giving him ammunition. You were a kid who made a mistake. And Declan, you protected him. Saved him from becoming his father. And now we're doing everything we can to finish what you started." She looked up, surprised. Her eyes shone with tears and she shook her head.
Hotch smiled gently, the dimple she never got to see enough just barely showing itself.
"I get it – you're tough as nails, Prentiss, no one would dare say otherwise. But being tough doesn't make you a monster. It makes you good at your job." She looked down at their hands, still clasped in her lap. "You have four people in Quantico mourning you. Grieving a loss bigger than they can even begin to comprehend." He paused as a tear dripped onto his hand. "You were – are – light and love and family to them. To us. And we will find Doyle. He will pay for what he's put you through. "
Hotch's eyes darted to where he knew Doyle had branded Emily with his signature symbol – a clover – before he could stop himself. He put a finger under her chin, tipping her face up until her eyes met his. The shadows had returned and Hotch decided then and there that he would make it his personal mission to chase them away and ensure that they never came back. He wiped her tears away with this thumbs, never breaking eye contact.
"We *will* get him." He repeated, his voice cold and hard. "And you will come home, back to where you belong, with the family who misses you. Who loves you." He finished, a softness to his voice that she'd only heard him use for Haley or Jack.
His eyes spoke volumes, more than he could say with words. Even in the dim light thrown into the room from the candles, she couldn't miss what he was telling her. Her eyes widened in surprise, her mouth forming a perfect "oh".
She wasn't alone. Not isolated. And certainly not forgotten or unwanted.
Before he could overthink it, Hotch acted on impulse and leaned forward, gently pressing his lips to hers.
"Hotch – "Emily's voice was nothing more than a husky whisper, full of questions and warnings.
"Can we just be Emily and Aaron, just for tonight?" He stroked her cheek with his thumb again.
"Hotch – Aaron – I – I don't know if I can. Not knowing that you'll have to leave and that I'll shatter again." She was torn, it was written all over her face.
"I understand." He said quietly. "I would never push you into something that would hurt you. I – I lost you, too, the day you "died" on that table. Even though I knew the truth I felt the loss. I runs deeper than I ever imagined it could." His voice trailed as he remembered how he'd felt when JJ had come to the waiting room and said that Emily was gone. Even knowing it was a lie, there was that split second when he'd believed the lie too. It had been like losing Haley all over again and it had taken his breath away.
Now, Emily was sitting here in front of him, alive and healing. He was being given a second chance. And he vowed to himself that he wouldn't lose her again.
"Oh, Aaron – "Emily searched for the words, finding irony in the fact that with all the languages she could speak fluently, no words came now. She searched his eyes, reading everything she'd put him through in them.
She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before she crashed her lips into his, claiming him as hers, only pulling away when they finally needed to breathe.