Author's Note: Me again. I'm still in denial that Fade To Black only has one more installment before it's over. But anyway, we won't dwell on that now, lest I become too emotional. This little story is yet another in a series of oneshot tie-ins to the FTB-universe that I will be writing and posting over the next couple weeks. I sincerely hope you enjoy!

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

Emily was drawn out of her depressed fugue by a pair of lips hunting across her back.

"Mmmm…Aaron?"

"Hey," he murmured against her shoulder, his breath warming the bare skin there. "What're you thinking so deeply about?"

Her gaze slowly rose to meet his. "What do you think I'm thinking about?" she deadpanned.

Hotch's expression softened. "Baby…"

Emily just shook her head idly. "How do I stop thinking about it?" she said aloud, not meaning for the question to be for anyone but herself.

He sighed quietly. "I wish I could tell you. I wish I could help you."

"I know," she returned, her gaze once again adopting that far-away look.

A beat passed before Hotch spoke once more. "I can distract you, if you'd like," he whispered in her ear, his arms moving to circle her waist and pull her flush against his body.

"I don't doubt it," Emily returned, smiling just a titch. But as soon as a pair of wandering hands began to push aside her tank top to expose her skin to his hungry gaze, she stiffened.

Hotch, however, failed to notice. So absorbed in the feel of her body against his was he, that he didn't notice Emily firmly shutting her eyes, her lips stretched into a thin line. "You're so beautiful, Emmy…" he murmured reverently. "You're always beautiful," he amended, kissing along her stomach, "but today…you're especially so."

Emily took in a sharp breath as Hotch's tongue dipped into her belly button. "Aaron," she protested softly.

Peering up at her with heavy-lidded eyes, Hotch met her gaze. "Yes?"

"Stop."

He looked at her carefully. "Stop?" he repeated, moving aside just barely to give her the space she made clear she needed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," she said, shaking her head. But her eyes fell from his, instead gazing at his slightly chapped lips, the beginning of stubble growing on his jaw…

"Look at me, sweetheart," Hotch murmured. "Hey…" He kissed her, his worry increasing as she pulled away. "Talk to me," he begged.

"I'm just…not in the mood," Emily sighed, turning on her side, unable to face him and tell him what was really on her mind.

Hotch closed his eyes, smoothing down her blouse over her frame. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"No," she said into her pillow. "I'm not in the mood," she repeated, her voice sounding thick with tears. She hated disappointing him, but as much as she wanted the intimacy he was offering, she just couldn't. Not now, not with everything on her mind acting as a burden hanging over her head.

"Okay," he answered sweetly. "That's okay," he assured. "I'm sorry for pressuring you. You know I never want to make you uncomfortable."

Emily nodded almost imperceptibly, her vision momentarily blurred. "I know, and you weren't pressuring me," she breathed. "I just…I can't get it out of my head. I keep replaying the moment over and over again…when I close my eyes, I see it happening. When I go to bed, I wonder what would have happened if…if it was real."

Hotch felt his heart clench as if a fist had closed around it. He didn't have to ask Emily to know what she was talking about, for he was having the same emotions, too.

"I wish it was real," she moaned.

Hotch took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. "So do I, baby."

It was then that they let their minds wander to that sad, sad place once more.

~.~.~

Two weeks earlier…

Emily felt her heart stop as she came to a sudden realization.

She was late.

Not just by a couple days…but by a week and a half.

How had she gone this long without realizing it? Emily paced the length of the master bathroom, the tiles cold underneath her bare feet.

…How was she going to tell him? This was something they had never planned, never factored into the equation.

A third child.

A baby.

Emily ran a hand through her recently cut hair, what little of it there was left. She knew, of course, that she was getting too ahead of herself for her own good.

But still…

Closing the bathroom door, Emily mindlessly took off her shirt and turned to gaze at her reflection in the mirror. Slowly, ever so slowly, she ran a hand over her flattened stomach.

Was there something there? A little ball of life just waiting to be brought into the world…

Unwillingly, the image of a dark-haired, dark-eyed little boy sprung to mind, and the sheer thought was so precious that it brought tears to her eyes.

That was how Hotch found her, half-naked and hunched over on the ground, rocking herself back and forth as she silently cried.

Hotch felt all the air leave his lungs as he rushed to Emily's side and dropped to his knees. Fear immediately rose in him; after all, the last time he had seen her like this – half-naked and crying and broken – was when she had first found the lump on the underside of her left breast.

From that point onward, their lives would never be the same.

"What's wrong?" he asked urgently, pulling her close. "What happened? Sweetheart, are you okay?"

Emily shook her head in response, burying further into Hotch's embrace. "I'm late, Aaron."

Their gazes met, and she watched as a look of comprehension dawned on his face. "You're…"

She didn't know how to respond, however; instead, she just shut her eyes tightly to block out the world. Finally, two words fell from her lips.

"I wish."

Hotch sighed sadly, pressing his lips to her crown. "Sweetheart," he began slowly, "Doctor Haynes warned that…sometimes…chemotherapy and radiation can do things – change things – within your body," he managed weakly, hating that she was hurting this much.

Emily fisted her hands in his shirt at the disheartening realization. "I know," she cried, dissolving into another round of tears. "I know, I know, I know. And I hate it. So much," she moaned, holding onto him for dear life.

He hated the feeling of powerlessness that had been so prevalent as of recent, but Hotch could do nothing but hold her to him as well, and whisper sweet nothings in her ear. "So do I, Emily. So do I."

~.~.~

Present day…

"We can always try again."

Emily looked at Hotch sadly. "No," she sighed, her mind still on how her period had started up mere days after her breakdown. "No, we can't. I'm forty-three, Aaron. That's not the most ideal age for having a child."

"So?" he argued, resting his forehead against hers. "If this is what you really want, the age limit of women giving birth after going through in vitro fertilization is well into the fifty-range," he pointed out. "And if not that…we could always adopt." He caressed the side of her face. "I didn't know you wanted another child so badly."

That's when Emily shook her head. "I didn't, either. I'd never thought of it until recently…when I saw his face in my mind. And he was so perfect. And innocent, and untouched, and pure…" It was her turn to sigh. "If I'm rational with myself, I don't think I could handle another child. It's just…you can't miss something you've never had, right?"

"But you do."

"But I do."

"I understand," Hotch said softly.

Emily touched the corner of his lips with her little finger. "Do you?"

He nodded. "It's sick and it's twisted, the situation you – we're – in. But we'll make it," he said confidently.

Emily mustered up a smile, arching her neck to give him the smallest of kisses. "We'll make it," she repeated for strength. "Aaron…"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"I love you."

Hotch smiled in return, running a hand over the back of her head. "I love you, too. Now get some rest. You need it."

Peacefully, Emily obeyed.

THE END.

Author's Note: Like it? Love it? I'd sure love it if you could leave me some feedback; your reviews mean the world to me!