Author's Note: Here we are again – my newest multi-chapter. I'm not calling it an epic this time, because if I stick to my current outline (which never happens, to be quite honest), it won't be more than twenty chapters. This one will be primarily focused around Hotch, which is something I only just now realized I haven't done in any of my multi-chapters/epics. So I'm hoping this will be a unique and rewarding experience for all of us.

With that being said, thank you as always for your incredible support and for taking the time to read. I sincerely hope you enjoy. This chapter will be shorter than most, seeing as it's just an introduction of sorts. But let's see where this road takes us, shall we?

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of its characters.

He watched her as she slept.

The explosion had been hell, plain and simple. But being unable to help her in any way, shape, or form had been purgatory. In a flash of memories that were tinged with the pungent scent of smoke and burning wood, Hotch remembered. He remembered yelling frantically for his team to exit the building. He remembered the chaos that had taken control of his heart when he realized Emily was the only one who had yet to come out to safety and open air.

He remembered his voiceless scream as the building burst into flames and seemed to fall apart right before his eyes.

Lastly, he remembered the sweeping sense of relief that had nearly overwhelmed him and brought him to his knees as she came hobbling out, bruised and battered and blackened with dust, but very much alive. She had nearly collapsed at his feet, blood trickling down her temple and down one leg.

Not even a second had passed before he had scooped her up into his arms and placed her in an ambulance. She would be okay, he had assured himself. They would be okay.

And in the sterile, white-walled hospital room, they were. Emily was safe, yet he couldn't bring himself to let go of her hand as she slept. He couldn't look away from the steady rise and fall of her chest, the innocent enough looking stitches that presented a new addition to the skin of her forehead. Gauze covered a portion of her previously bloodied leg; he saw this only because of the way she was sprawled out on the bed, limbs placed haphazardly on the mattress and tangled with the sheets. For a moment, it even made him smile, for it made him think of the many mornings he would wake to a sight much like this one...though in a much brighter, happier setting.

But he wasn't going to dwell on the explosion for much longer. What mattered was that Emily, his courageous and incredibly beautiful Emily, was as good as back in his arms.

And then, mere seconds after her breathing pattern changed, she shifted; and Hotch knew that, alas, she was awake. Her eyes fluttered slowly open, her voice endearingly raspy when she spoke his name.

"I thought I had already told you to go home and get some rest."

A soft smile touched his lips. "You did," he murmured, dancing his fingers along the length of her arm. "I didn't listen."

"Clearly." Emily huffed out a little sigh as she propped herself up on her elbows and peered at him from beneath gloriously long lashes. "I believe the fact that I've woken three times, only to see you in the exact same position each time, might I add, is proof that I'm not dead." Despite her playful tone, however, her demeanor gentled at the sudden shift she saw behind his eyes. "Aaron..."

"I just...don't really want to leave you alone," Hotch admitted quietly, and for a split second, he couldn't bear to meet her inquisitive gaze. He didn't need to speak any further; Emily could feel every nuance of his emotions through the tightening of his hold on her hand.

Without thinking, she brought a hand forward and touched a finger to his chin, bringing his gaze up to meet hers. His face was delightfully close to hers, and she took a strange comfort from the way his warm breath fanned out on the bared skin of her collarbone. Her voice was tiny when she finally spoke. "I really scared you there, didn't I?"

Hotch blinked, caught off guard. He opened his mouth, but closed it when no sound came out. How was it that with only a few words he was reduced to nothing but a gaping and dumbfounded entity with no idea how to properly respond? What he wanted was to ask her how she was feeling; but he had done that each of the two other times she had opened her eyes and commanded his attention, and he knew asking a third time would not be something she took particularly well to. She was a stubborn woman, and he just couldn't fault her for it. Rather, he loved her for it.

He found himself adamantly shaking his head. "Emily –"

Just as he had known she would, she didn't let him get the statement out. For no reason at all, though she of course didn't see it that way, heavy guilt crushed her chest. "God, Aaron, I'm so sorry," she whispered; and in that moment, that little glimpse of heaven, their lips met in a kiss so sweet Emily felt herself falling toward the insanity she called paradise. It was like a breath of fresh air, being so aware of every crevice of his mouth – of everything he had to offer.

His hand cradling the back of her neck was just the tether to earth Emily had been needing. But that was no surprise whatsoever; Hotch had always had an acute sense of just what she needed, no matter the time or place.

"Don't apologize to me," Hotch said adamantly, his eyes dark with an intimacy that took her breath away, and she could suddenly feel the words deep in her soul. Their kiss came to a languid stop as they drew slowly and reluctantly apart. "Never apologize," he echoed.

But the tables had turned and Emily had more to say. This time, it was her hand that came to run gently through his hair, and she couldn't help but smile just a bit at the way his eyes fluttered shut at the action – one of his favorites, she knew. "You've just been under so much stress lately," she crooned, pressing one last kiss to his forehead, on the same spot where she had stitches. "I worry about you."

"I'll be okay, Em," Hotch assured, and his placating smile sent a feeling of deep adoration coursing through her veins. It was almost enough to mask her concern. They were two sides of the same coin, feeling the same emotions and living what was so close to being the same life.

What he didn't tell her was that the anxiety was stifling, nearly agonizing. He didn't think it pertinent to mention that his heart had been pinching madly in a way that aspirin just couldn't alleviate. He said none of these things to her, however, for he didn't want her to be concerned.

So instead, he brushed it all aside.

Author's Note: Well? Any thoughts? You know I always love to hear from y'all. If you have the time, please leave a review; short or long, signed or anonymous, they are the best motivation and inspiration for me. Stay tuned for the next chapter!