Her hand was shaking as she pointed the gun at the older man. She had trusted him, had loved him, and he turned on her.

"Emily-"

"Don't move," she warned, her voice deep, words hissed through her teeth. "You move and I shoot."

His dark eyes met hers. "Emily, don't."

She did her best to stop herself from crying. How could he do this to her?

"Don't do something you'll regret," he tried to persuade her, staying as calm as he could. "Give me a chance to explain why I did what I did before you do anything drastic."

Emily scoffed, a humorless laugh escaping her. "I trusted you," she seethed. "I trust you with my life. I trusted you with my son's life!"

She could see Hotch's eyes darken at that statement. "He's my son."

They had gotten married, she had adopted his beautiful baby boy, and he had grown up calling her mommy. He was hers. And after what Hotch had done? He was hers much more than he was his.

"Just put the gun down."

Emily shoved her gun further toward the older man when he looked as if he were to move toward her. "I won't tell you again," she warned, begging her eyes not to water from how upset she was, "if you move, I'll shoot."

Hotch slowly shook his head. "Why would you want to shoot me, darling?"

She felt her skin crawl at the nickname. The man she had fallen in love with was a double agent. He had been taking their information and helping the most evil of the evil ones they'd fought. The serial killers, dealers and terrorists they tried to put away day after day were looking to her husband for information, and he was giving it to them without a second thought.

"Emily, I'm no different from the man you married."

"I didn't marry a perjurer," she growled. "You told them about every one of us. You told them our pasts, our weaknesses." Her head shook as she tried her best to understand who would do such things. "You even sold out your son."

Hotch fumed. "I never sold out my son!"

Emily fired a shot when he charged toward her, and she watched him fall to the ground with a bullet in his knee.

"Bitch!"

Emily blinked back her tears as she watched him hold his bleeding knee. "I want to know why." She kept her eyes on him as he looked to her, her hands clenching around the gun she held. "You were a good man," the brunette woman tried, the smell of her husband's blood filling the room. The team would be there any minute. "There was no reason to do the things you did."

Hotch's nostrils flared as the younger woman spoke. "I did it because it was what was right."

"What was right? Compromising the safety and unity of an entire country is what's right?"

The older man could feel his blood boiling. "This country has been wrong for years!" his voice boomed. "What me and the others are doing is to help it get back on its feet and be the country it used to be!"

Emily's body shot forward. "By brining those within its borders down?"

"By killing off those who have ruined it and its reputation!" her husband shouted back, his hands still around his wound. "We are rebuilding what once was! You and the rest of these government morons have been tearing down this country and it's up to us who can see it to stop you."

The ambassador's daughter shook her head, the bridge of her nose stinging as her tears tried to hold off. It was as if she were talking to a complete stranger.

"I didn't want to hurt you," he said, his voice lowering. "You weren't supposed to get in the way."

"Get in the way?"

Hotch grimaced as he stood on shaky legs, leaning heavily on his uninjured leg as he laid his eyes on the younger woman. For some reason she hadn't taken a second shot. "I love you, I do. I tried to get them to stay away from you but you just keep interfering!"

She was doing her job, she knew that. Protecting her country from those like her husband was the reason she had that job.

"I didn't want you hurt, but I can't help that now."

Emily's eyes stung as her tears finally broke free. The man she had fallen in love with and promised her life to would give her up to protect the cause he had been fighting for; the cause that went against everything she had thought they both believed in. "You fought for our country every day," she argued. She refused to believe the Aaron Hotchner she knew was no longer there.

"I did my best to keep my cover," Hotch said shortly. Although it hurt him, he ignored the tears he saw streaming down from his wife's eyes. "Once this is over, I promise you it'll be ok."

The brunette frowned. "You think you're leaving here?"

The older man watched as the younger woman took a step toward him. "Of course," he scoffed. "We're married, we have a son. You let me finish this and we can still be together."

"You're delusional."

"I'm making things right. When we've reached the point we intend, this country is going to be back to the great one it once was. Don't you hate all of these wars?" he asked, begging his wife to look at him and stop her crying. "All of the racism? The terrorism? With what we're doing sweetheart, we don't have to worry about those things. The government has been tearing us down." He could hear his voice growing louder as he got worked up. "But we're almost at the end of our plan." It had been years in the making.

Emily slowly shook her head, the aim of her gun never wavering. "We've already captured ninety percent of your team. The rest are dead."

The older man's eyes darkened on the woman he had fallen in love with.

"This is it, Aaron," she whispered. "It's over."

He could hear the shouts of his team, his family, on the other side of the door. "No!"

Emily shot her gun once more, her eyes never leaving her husband's as the bullet flew through the air and hit him straight between the eyes. She watched him crumple and fall to the floor, and she let herself let out a cry as her gun fell from her hand.

The door was knocked down, Morgan stumbling in after it to see his best friend standing in the warehouse store room. "Damn."

Dave holstered his gun and walked up to the shaking woman as the others on the team went to their chief to see if he had a pulse. "Cara," he said, his voice thick as he put his hands to her arms.

Emily's eyes never left the lifeless form of her husband on the floor. "He charged at me," he whispered, her throat closing as she continued to cry. "I had no choice."

She was taken out of the warehouse and escorted to one of ambulances waiting out in the rain, Dave never leaving her side. It wasn't just her husband, but their family member.

"Ma'am? Can you hear me?"

Emily's ears vaguely picked up the sound of the EMT as she watched police officers help the other paramedics take her husband from the warehouse, his beautiful smile and muscular arms hidden under the dark plastic of the body bag he was held in, and she finally stopped crying.

She needed to get home to her son. Her son, and no one else's.