A/N: Thank you so much for your alerts and your kind reviews. You really encouraged me to overcome my uncertainties and continue with the story. I hope you don't feel as if this chapter is merely a repetition of the first. It was important to me to dig even deeper into their complicated relationship and let Hotch realize the hard way that he seriously messed up. Again there are references to seasons 2-7.

There will be one more chapter. Yes, I'm stalling a little for time here so that I can make up my mind how to bring this baby home (although I have a favorite how I want it to end). So, while I'm making up my mind and trying to work on the next (and final) chapter – please R&R.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Criminal Minds is owned by CBS.

Afternoon

Hotch granted Emily her wish to tell the team herself. Of course, it didn't take long until the knocking on his door started.

"Hold her back. No matter what it takes." Morgan, desperate.

"You can not allow this to happen. You're the unit chief. There has to be a way to make her stay. You're the unit chief. Oh, I already said that, didn't I? So... please." Garcia, no less desperate than Morgan.

"Why?" Reid, completely devastated.

No words but only a slightly disapproving nod in passing from Rossi.

And last but not least the words that reflected what was preying on his mind. "Could we have done anything? Is this our mistake? Did we handle things wrong?" JJ.

There was no current case, only paperwork to do and when it became clear that Emily wouldn't change her mind, they decided one by one to call it a day. Only Reid is still in the bullpen, and it pains Hotch to see him sitting hunched over at his desk, trying to distract himself with some scientific theory he probably would hardly be able to understand. Emily's absence will leave more than one of them broken.

This wasn't her last day. She told him that she will be with the team for a couple more days to get her paperwork done and make an organized delivery. Just like she always does anything neatly and structured. Even breaking their hearts.

He could have asked her for another talk, and he has no excuse for not having done this other than the fact that he is simply at a loss what he could tell her. It was his mistake to take her for granted again. He knows that. She knows that. What could he possibly tell her that is not as inadequate as what he already told her? What is not too little, too late?

There is no other sound in his office than a clock ticking. He felt it before, but right now the feeling is still more pressing. Hotch is acutely aware that he is running out of time.

Evening

It takes no profiler to understand why Hotch doesn't drive home after he left the office but to her apartment instead. Unfinished business. And as uncomfortable and bewildered this whole situation makes him feel, he knows that there is no other option. He has to bring things to an end. Whatever that means.

He was at her apartment once before. In fact it was another apartment but almost the same situation. She quit, and back then he was able to convince her to stay. Today he is completely uncertain what will be the result of his fresh attempt to prevent that she leaves the BAU.

Fragmentary memories of their longstanding collaboration pop up in his mind as he stands in front of her door. He is not able to stop the trip down memory lane that has started in his office hours ago. Declining pictures of various scenes becoming more and more blurry the harder he tries to get a better look. And it always ends with the painful realization that she was good at respecting bounds, especially the ones he set to her. Now he is about to cross the line. Hotch raises his hand and knocks on her door, ready to enter her privacy.

It takes too long until Emily opens the door, and Hotch is pretty sure that she considered not letting him in. As soon as the door is open, he enters her apartment with grand strides and only turns around when he already is standing in the middle of her living room.

"So... why don't you come in?" her snarky remark barely hides her tension. The events of the day left their mark on both of them.

Hotch doesn't respond. After all he deserves it given that he just entered her private space without an invitation. Unfortunately his silence hurt her before today.

"Well, we already did this," she lets her anger shine through openly. "I told you... things, and you responded rarely or not at all. I really don't have time to do this again."

It's only now that Hotch realizes she is in the middle of packing. There are boxes everywhere. He didn't give it a second thought, but, of course, an overseas employment means that she will move. And she will not only move to another city. She will leave the country.

The nagging pain is back. He suddenly feels as if someone kneed him in the guts and almost doubles over. But that's not like him. Instead of breaking down, he is hanging on. And the only way he can do this, is covering his face with the mask of a man who doesn't feel anything. The mask she knows so well.

"Hotch... honestly," Emily's whole posture screams disappointment and resignation when she gestures toward her door. "If you have nothing to say, then leave. Please."

He doesn't move and when he starts to speak, he has an even more sounding and deep voice than usual, "Just because I don't show my affection, doesn't mean I don't care." Hotch is aware that he is the master of self-control. Yet it stings to realize how cold and unmoved he obviously appears to be. But most of all this stings, "Do you really think that I don't care?" About you – words he wanted to add and didn't due to his self-control that sometimes doesn't do him any good.

Hotch searches Emily's eyes and is greeted with one of her intense gazes. "You know that I know very well how compartmentalization works," she responds quietly. "I understand why you try to suppress your fear or what you consider weakness so that we, the team, don't see you struggle with it at work. The point is – you could let us see it. You could share the burden, but you constantly choose not to. And when it comes to caring about other people, of course, I know that you do care. It's just that it never felt as if you cared..." About me – they both know how the sentence was supposed to end, and they also both know why she chose not to end it that way. As much as it hurts her that he seemingly never gave her that, Emily Prentiss is not the kind of woman to beg for anything.

They are both frozen on the spot. None of them moves. They barely breathe.

"You don't trust women as much as men," Hotch suddenly says and catches her off guard with his remark. "That's what you told me some years ago when I asked the team about my weaknesses," he answers her unspoken question, and she remembers. Back then his question was meant as a brainstorming to help solve a case, and each member of the team reluctantly spoke his or her mind. The memory of Hotch distrusting and scrutinizing her as the rookie of the team had been so vivid that this was Emily's spontaneous reaction to his question. One he obviously hasn't forgotten up to today.

"I admit that I had some issues with the circumstances in which you joined the team," he explains. "And the only female profiler had left the team shortly before not exactly on amicable terms. In retrospect this had probably a lot more influence on the way I treated you than I allowed myself to see back then."

"Morgan told me that you always called her by her first name – Elle," Emily adds carefully and nibbles at her bottom lip. "Is that why you never call me by my first name? Because of the similarity?"

"Perhaps," Hotch admits. "At first I never thought about it, and later on you already were Prentiss to me." It is one more thing he only realizes now. How something that was normal for him, was an indication of distance between them. There is JJ and Dave and – even if not often – Derek, but the times when he called her Emily were a more than rare exception.

He remembers how she came to his office after her friend had died – shocked, confused, soaked with rain and trying very hard not to cry or to break down in front of him. Even if she suspected that her friend had been murdered, it apparently was no official visit, and she apparently needed his help, his affection, so badly that her first name left his lips before he even had a chance to think twice. He offered her support with gentle words. As soon as the first obstacles were put in his way, though, he dropped her; he is well aware of that. And hadn't it been for Dave's intervention, the case probably would have remained unsolved. What she doesn't know is that treating her wrongfully was his way of keeping the distance. He so desperately wanted to be there for her that it almost physically hurt him to see her suffer. And he couldn't allow that to happen, couldn't allow himself to be distracted by her long before the Fox pointed it out to him dead-on.

"Sometimes...," Hotch says hesitatingly. "...I tried too hard to keep the distance and hurt you along the way. This isn't something I'm proud of." He takes a deep breath, "Please know that I'm sorry and that I care about you, Emily. I really do."

Immediately she breaks the eye contact, and at first he thinks she is angry with him until he realizes that she is fighting tears. Suddenly he feels so close to her emotionally as he only felt once before – when she accompanied him to his apartment on his first day back at work after Foyet. Hotch knows that if he reached out and touched her now, it would be natural, meant to be.

When Emily recovers her voice, it sounds wobbly, "The scars, Doyle inflicted on me, are not the worst. The worst scars you can't see. My soul is scarred." Her hand touches her chest, and she needs a moment to compose herself. When she continues to speak, her voice is steady again, "I really thought I could do it. When I came back, I thought things being back to how they used to be was what I wanted. But it's not. I have changed. I can't go back to how things were. I just can't. It's not enough anymore. I want more, and I'm not willing to settle for less." She makes another brief pause and goes on with even more vehemence, "The one and only benefit from almost having died..." Hotch winces how matter-of-factly she is able to refer to Doyle's cold-blooded attack that almost cost her life. "...is that I appreciate life even more. And staying with the team, with you, without changing anything would do nothing but inflict another scar on my soul." Emily's eyes bore into his, and he understands, really understands, maybe really heard her for the first time since they've been working together. And that's why he knows at the same time that her decision is most likely irreversible, his hindsight only an irrelevant sideshow.

"I took you for granted," Hotch says, and it sounds like the confession it is.

"Yes, you did," her voice is a whisper by now.

"And I'm so sorry if I hurt you, please, believe me." Hotch again.

This time her response takes a moment, "Yes, I believe you. But it's not enough."

And with this the small spark of hope, Hotch felt only minutes ago, threatens to vanish into thin air.

"What would be enough?" he has to ask. Although there is little hope left, the fight is not over yet.

Hotch mentally kicks himself for being so naïve to believe that she always would be around, that she always would be what would happen some day. Not today or tomorrow – some day. On all the todays in the past there was always a good reason why she, they, couldn't happen. He was still married. He was coming to terms with his own traumatic experiences. He was her superior. Lately he even started dating again. Beth is a nice woman, but she doesn't even come close when he thinks about getting seriously involved. Therefore, even if he enjoys her company, he considers ending it before it actually has begun. Most of all because he doesn't intend to hurt her, and – let's face it – all the time the real deal, the real danger, the reason why Beth can never be the one has been already at his side.

"I don't know what would be enough," Emily finally answers, and her voice sounds small like a child's. She has crossed the arms in front of her chest. The classical defensive posture.

She knows exactly what would be enough; she's simply not willing to bare her thoughts. Hotch, on the other hand, is not willing to give her up just like that and steps closer to her. "Then at least don't leave until we have a chance to find out," his voice is hoarse, his hand reaches out to touch her face, and then, eventually, he is able to tell her what has been on his mind the whole day, "Stay. Don't leave."

He can literally see how his words hit her, how desperately she has been waiting to hear them. Emily relaxes and even smiles, but it's a sad, wistful smile, and instantly Hotch knows what her answer will be before she speaks her mind aloud, "I'm sorry." Too little... "I can't stay with the BAU." Too late...

Hotch's emotional turmoil suddenly stops and is replaced by an unexpected inner calm. He doesn't have to think twice. There is only one option left, and it's all or nothing. "Then stay with me," he says, staking everything on one card.

To be continued

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