Little Pieces

Disclaimer: Nope, neither the song nor the characters are mine - the angst, that's all mine, though.

A/N: Well, I'm not exactly sure where this came from. It's certainly not what I usually write; it's too short for one thing and too angsty for another. But, musie decided to take a break right in the middle of the '100' tag and when she came back this is what she had in mind. I'd been thinking about doing something like this for the tags but it just wouldn't fit there since that's a more hopeful universe but every time I heard this song, I couldn't help but wonder 'what if' so once the story actually started to roll, I decided to go ahead and write. I also figured it might just break whatever block I was having and I might finally finish that tag. It worked! I both, got this story out of my head and I finally finished the tag! Which should be posted later on today or tomorrow at the latest. My beta thinks you guys will demand some sort of sequel or resolution; I'm not sure. Part of me is happy with this as is but I do have an idea for a couple of 'companions' pieces. I might write them, if you guys are interested, after I write the next two tags. Anyway, I hope you like it and please do let me know what you think, like I said, this is a real departure for me.

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"I'm sorry," Hotch said quietly. "I know that's not what you want to hear but I can't . . . right now, I just can't . . . I don't have anything else to give."

Little piece of me you can't have
And I know it's driving you mad

"I know," Emily nodded. "I just wish. . ."

"If I could," he continued and she could hear the sincerity in his voice, "if there was anyone that could make me . . ."

"No, don't," Emily shook her head hastily. "Please, don't say anything else." As painful as it was to hear that he couldn't give her what she needed, it was somehow more painful to hear that he wanted to.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "But right now, this is all I have . . . it's all I can do to keep going; I have precious little to spare."

"Aaron, please," she stopped him once more. "You don't need to explain." She knew all about it and was tired of beating her head against a wall that was never going to crack.

Little part inside you can't reach
I'm afraid that's the way its gonna be
There's a part of you that wants to fight
But I never really had the appetite

"Emily, I . . ." he trailed off with a frown when he found that there was really nothing else he could say.

"I should go," she said after a moment of awkward silence. When he just looked at her with the same shuttered gaze, she nodded to herself and sat up. She wrapped the sheet around her torso as she reached forward to pick up her clothes. When she had it all, she walked towards the bathroom without looking back at the bed.

You'd think she, of all people, would have known better than to get involved with an emotionally unavailable man – a man that, on top of everything else, was her boss. Actually, she had known better; she had promised herself she wouldn't go there. She'd known what would happen. And yet, she hadn't been able to stay away. She hadn't been strong enough to resist, not both her needs and his. She'd been fine while it was just her emotions she'd been fighting but she was a sucker for needy, soulful brown eyes. It wasn't that Hotch was the kind of man that asked for help or showed vulnerability but sometimes there was a light in his eyes, a look that showed her the man behind the stern mask. And that was a look she could never resist.

I fear my feelings won't speak
Words are already taken upon the breeze
Wind is always blowing

Hotch looked at her when she came out of the bathroom and opened his mouth to say something, only to close it moments later. He wanted to say something, needed to say something to let her know what she meant to him; he wanted her to know that she mattered. Unfortunately, he wasn't sure how to say it – actually, he wasn't sure what to say. For a man that was usually articulate and almost always knew what to say, not knowing what to say, not knowing what he felt was more than a little disconcerting.

Pieces falling from me
You can have them for free
Never felt so complete
Pieces falling from me

"Emily," he finally found his voice before she opened the bedroom's door. "I know you don't want excuses or explanations."

"You're right, I don't," she kept her eyes on her hand on the knob when she answered. "So, please don't . . ."

"I just need to tell you," he kept talking despite her interruption, "if things were different, if these last two years . . ."

"If, if, if," she couldn't help the bitter tone in her voice. She took a deep breath before continuing, "There's no point to this, Hotch. All the 'ifs' won't change what 'is'; it's just wishful thinking and that gets us nowhere. I know the last two years have been anything but easy and that you've gone through a lot and I want to help you but . . . I can't keep doing this. I just can't, Hotch."

Though you try your best you never find
There are pieces that are left behind
Last piece of the jigsaw
All the others are scattered across the floor
So you try to get them all up
There are pieces falling in the dust

"I understand," he said after a moment. He couldn't help but notice that she still hadn't let go of the knob or turned around. "This is anything but fair to you; I know that. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. I wish . . ." he trailed off and shook his head. "I never wanted to put you in this position; if I'd just been stronger. . ."

If he'd been stronger, he'd have stayed away from her. He'd known that getting involved with her in a personal way wasn't a good idea; actually, he'd known it was a spectacularly bad idea. She might be the one thing that brought any kind of peace or light to his life but he'd known that he would only add darkness and despair to hers. He would only drag her into his chaos and hurt her because he was no longer whole and able to give her what she needed and deserved. His divorce and the Foyet episode had left him deeply scarred; both experiences had cost him pieces of himself and he wasn't sure when or even if he would ever get them back.

There's a pile of ash we don't need
Leave it to be taken upon the breeze
Wind is always blowing

"Stronger?" she asked.

"I should have walked away," he answered. "Or made you walk away."

"Made …?" she started to repeat in indignation only to cut herself off and take a deep breath. She closed her eyes for a moment to get herself together before she turned around to face him, "Correct me if I'm wrong but what happened here," she waved to indicate the bed and what had happened on it, "required two willing, consenting adults– unless one forced the other, which did not happen. There were two of us on that bed, Aaron; two of us who should have known better, but didn't. Two of us who could and probably should have stopped it way before now, but didn't; there were two of us who knew the consequences of what we were doing and did it anyway. You don't get to shoulder the responsibility and blame for this by yourself. This, and the consequences of it, is on both of us."

He opened his mouth to protest but closed it without saying anything else when she glared at him. "Okay," he nodded. There was another awkward pause before he asked, "now what?"

"Now?" she repeated. "Now we go back to how things used to be and forget this ever happened. And we make sure it never happens again." When he just looked at her, she added, "And this time, we really make sure it doesn't happen again because I can't keep doing this. I understand you're going through a rough patch and I'd like to help but . . ." she shook her head as she finished, "I just can't keep putting myself through this." She knew she was repeating herself, but there was nothing else she could say.

All this background noise
It's crowded
Never tell
It's half the reason why they're there
It's hard to make another plan

"I know," he said wearily. "You're right; it can't happen again. For what it's worth, I am sorry. I never meant to drag down you into my mess of a life or for things to get so out of hand. I . . . I just wish . . ."

"If wishes were horses," she said when he trailed off, "we'd be the proud owners of a stud ranch." One corner of his mouth quirked up for half a second before the serious look returned to his face.

"I . . . Thank you," he surprised her by saying. "I really appreciate your being there when I needed someone. Putting yourself out there is never easy and you've done it time and time again – so thank you. It . . . means more than can I say. I just . . ." he cut himself off before he could say 'wish' again. He sighed heavily and raked his fingers through his hair. "Damn it," he said softly, frustration dripping from the words. "This really isn't fair," there was a wealth of emotions in that one sentence – more emotions than Emily had ever heard from him, more emotions than she'd ever dreamed he'd expressed. And that really said it all.

There's a fine line what you want and what you need
Standing right there in between
Never been that kind of free
I've never lied to me

"Life is seldom fair," she replied and the resignation and cynicism in her tone made him ache for her. "And people rarely get what they deserve. Shit happens and you just have to deal with it. So, no, this isn't fair; but this isn't about fairness."

"Then what is it about?" he asked, and he really wished she'd tell him because for once in his life, Aaron Hotchner had no idea what he was doing, what he wanted or even what was going on.

"It's about . . ." she trailed off and shook her head as it dawned on her that that simple question was about more than just one thing; it could apply to a whole host of issues. She hesitated but in the end she went with the first answer than came to her. "I suppose it's about knowing yourself; knowing what you want, what you can give and what you'll get in return. And it's about being smart enough and mature enough to know that what you want and what you need aren't always the same thing and it's about seeing the difference and that what you need is more important than what you want and it's about accepting that sometimes you have to let what you want go if you're to ever have what you need." As she said it, she realized that never before had what she wanted and what she needed been so far apart and yet had the potential to be so close. She also understood, for the first time, that getting what you wanted could sometimes break your heart.

"You deserve to get both what you want and what you need," he told her and she could hear the sincerity in his voice. "I only wish I was able to give them to you."

Pieces falling from me
You can have them for free
Never felt so complete
Never be what you need
Something missing from me

"Me too," she whispered. He looked so alone and forlorn standing by the tousled bed that she felt her breath catch. "You deserve to get them, too, Hotch."

"Maybe," he shrugged. "Right now, it's all I can do to keep putting one foot in front of the other; I don't really have the energy to think about what I want. As for what I need, I breathe, eat, sleep and take care of Jack – as long as I have that, I guess I have what I need." She nodded because that really said it all, didn't it?

"I need to go," she finally said. He looked at her in silence for a few moments longer before he nodded. He waited until she'd turned around again and opened the door before speaking because he couldn't let her leave without giving her something – he couldn't watch her leave without giving himself something.

"The last thing I want is for you to go," he told her, "but you do need to." She froze for half a second before she forced herself to cross the threshold. She didn't look back but she left the door opened.

That I'll never complete
Never less than complete
Pieces falling from me