There is a dark, secret desire in Emily's soul, one that flares up, sharp and bright, every now and then. When JJ was pregnant, it grew and grew alongside her friend's belly. Emily filled the hole inside her with silent tears in an empty apartment – one as empty, and likely to stay that way, as her womb.
With each birthday that passes, she feels the longing grow more and more, jealousy seeping from her pores as she carries Jack, or Henry, or any of the faceless children in her dreams…and her nightmares.
It gets better when Hotch asks her on a date – her move back from Interpol was hard, and she couldn't return to the team for almost a year, but was welcomed with open arms when she finally was ready to come back, and Hotch's invitation was not unexpected, or unwelcome. The feeling she gets with Jack in her arms is good, warm, a solid presence against the ice inside her that Aaron works hard, every night, to melt as he holds her, or meets her eyes in the mirror as they do mundane bathroom things.
He knows what she wants, yet he still purchases condoms and one day she confronts him about it, pressing him about his not wanting another baby and how dare he deny her this, the only thing she's ever wanted and god, she hates him in that moment, when his response is to trap her angry, flailing wrists in his hands and pulls her close.
He was only waiting on her, always, waiting on her. How in the hell does he always know, and why hasn't he left, or broken her heart, or told her to leave. Why hasn't she left? When did this become more than a one night stand? A weekend. When did people start saying their names like AaronandEmily, EmandAaron, EmandHotch.
Her world telescopes for an instant and then her frustration pours out between them, about her parents, her mother especially, and her dad was great but never enough and is she selfish? And how can she be a good parent when she hasn't even ever gotten accidentally pregnant like it seems every other girl can manage, but she can't and she's broken and it hurts, so much, she can't even breathe around the pain of it lodged in her chest.
Aaron is warm, solid and quiet beside her. At home, at work, and then, in the fertility clinic offices the next week. She isn't broken. She's ready, willing, and certainly able to bear children.
The condoms end up in the trash that night.