She had to wipe her tears from her cheeks in case their son was to walk in. "Lower your voice," she hissed at her husband, watching as Hotch's eyes darkened on her. "If Jack hears this, you know you'll regret it."

Hotch's fists clenched. "We're still going to talk about this."

"Is that not what we're doing now?"

The older man could feel his temper rising, and his eyes slammed shut to stop from picturing his wife as a punching bag. "Don't patronize me."

Emily huffed, her hands on her hips. "I need you to understand something," the FBI agent said strongly, waiting until her husband's eyes opened so he could see her glare. "When we are home, you are no longer by boss. I can't have you continually make me feel like your subordinate when we leave the office."

"You are my subordinate!"

"I'm also your wife!" she called back, following him into their master bathroom. "I get you having to tell me what to do in the field, I'd be stupid if I didn't. But you cannot bring all of our work shit home and act as if you're still my superior."

Hotch angrily splashed some cold water on his face.

Wiping her hands down hers, the brunette woman sighed. "I can't keep having this fight."

"And I can't keep having you disregard what I say at work," Hotch threw back at her, turning from facing the sink so he could look to the younger woman. "Do you have any idea what can happen when you act that recklessly?"

Emily's brow arched. "That's a stupid question considering how many times I've almost died."

By the look on her husband's face she could tell he didn't find that funny.

"This is what I'm talking about." Following her husband back out into the bedroom, she stood by their dressers. "I get it when you have to reprimand me at work. I went in without backup and that was dangerous, I understand that."

"Do you?"

Emily's eyes darkened on the older man. "But," she stressed, "this shouldn't follow us home. Every time Aaron, this can't happen every time."

Hotch felt his head shaking. "Do you hear yourself? Every time? Why does this have to happen all the time?"

"This is something to discuss at work," the brunette wanted to scream, her head pounding. "We discussed this at work and that was supposed to be the end of it, but like always you stayed angry and brought it home with us."

The Unit Chief's temple throbbed as he took a step toward the other agent. "If I were to almost get shot because I didn't follow the rules, would you save this as a conversation to have at work?" He waited to see the emotion on his wife's face shift before he took another step forward. "If I was almost shot, again, would you be fine with not talking to me about it once we were home? Once all of the business was left behind us and we had to talk about what it emotionally did to both of us?"

Emily nervously licked her lips, her eyes downcasting to the floor.

"If I almost lost my life today, would you let me live that down?"

"I wouldn't take your day away from you!" she fired back. "We were supposed to come home and have a nice dinner with Jack, and now he's out in the living room wondering why his father forced his mother to the bedroom and locked the door." Stepping back to give them both room to cool off, Emily shook her head. "You're right, I would be mad. Any normal spouse would be," Emily agreed, "but there's a time and a place."

"This is the time!"

Emily could hear her son turning up the volume on the television and she felt herself start to cry harder. "You can't just scream at me every time I try and save someone's life, Aaron. It isn't fair."

Hotch's jaw fell to the floor. "It isn't fair? Is it fair to me to have my wife almost die every time she's out in the field?"

"Same goes for you!"

"I don't purposely do that," he shot bad at her. "I don't purposely go out of my way to try and get shot."

Emily's eyes bugged. "You think that's what I try to do? What, that I'm suicidal and jump in front of a gun every chance I get?" She stormed up to the older man and fought the urge to push at his chest. "Fuck you!"

"Fuck me?"

The crying woman could feel her heart pounding in her ears. "I was saving a child! You would do the same thing and I don't get how you doing something like that is heroic and me doing the same thing is being suicidal." From everything she had gone through in the past couple of years, that thought coming from the man she loved hurt her.

Hotch could feel his own eyes stinging with tears. "You were reckless."

"I was saving a child," she spit out at him. "I will not apologize for that."

The older man felt his body tense. He slammed his hands into the foot of their bed and stormed out of the bedroom, the door slamming behind him before he took his jacket and walked outside.

Emily brought her shaking hand up to wipe the rest of her tears. She forced herself to breathe, not even taking a moment to look in the mirror because she knew exactly how she looked. They'd had this fight one too many times.

Walking out of her bedroom, the agent took cautious steps down the hall and into their living room. Sitting down beside her son, she let him immediately cuddle into her side, their eyes on the television.

"Happy Mother's Day, mommy."

Emily's eyes slammed shut to stop her tears. "Thank you, baby," she whispered back, stroking his blond hair. "Thank you."