The stench of her own breath woke her up, her face that had been burrowed in her pillow popping up. She had cottonmouth, the immediate feeling in her mouth making her nauseous, and she could already tell that her hair was a mess.

Rolling over onto her back, the brunette woman could see the sun was already at its highest point in the sky. How long had she been sleeping?

After the family had watched a movie at the newly renovated theater at the closest mall, Emily had talked her ex into letting her get the children ice cream at a parlor in the mall, but after that Hotch had insisted that it was time for them to go home. Jack and Penelope had started to get wary of the older woman they called their mother, noticing she had started falling asleep during the movie and staring off into the distance a few times during ice cream.

Penelope had been the one to give her mother an extra long hug before they had left her, asking Emily if she would come to her play at school on Thursday night. Emily had immediately agreed, but both knew what could easily happen.

It wouldn't be the first time Emily had missed something due to being in yet another drunken haze.

Sitting up in her bed, the former FBI agent gave herself a moment for her headache to clear before she stripped herself of her clothes and got herself into the master bathroom. "New day," she sang blandly, ignoring her appearance in the mirror and almost limping her way to the shower. Reaching into the glass shower, the turned the handle to get the water to turn on, the single mother noticed the dent in the lower corner of the enclosed area.

Just after she had started drinking full time, the brunette woman had gone on a binger with one of her friends who didn't know about her problem yet, and she had thought that after ten shots and a mixed drink that it was a perfect time for a two am shower. Emily hadn't even taken off her clothes before stumbling into the shower, slipping on the spots of water that hadn't dried from her shower earlier that night and slipped.

She needed seventeen stitches, having to stay in the hospital for two days because of a concussion.

Emily let out a long sigh as she stepped underneath the hot spray, feeling it sting her skin. She reached her arms out to let them feel the burn, the scars from her childhood feeling the brunt of the stinging sensation. She loved it.

"Mommy?"

The brunette felt tears sting her eyes as she looked around her bathroom to find where Penelope's voice was coming from. She had started hearing voices maybe a month ago, what the cause of it was she still had no idea, but every time she heard one of her children and turned to see they weren't there, her heart broke a little more.

Breathing in the steam that surrounded her, Emily massaged the shampoo into her hair.

"Mommy?"

Emily kept her eyes sealed shut to keep her tears from spilling over and down her cheeks, her fingers roughly raking through her hair before she stepped back under the spray to wash the suds away.

It had to be at least noon, right? So she would go downstairs and get herself a cup of coffee before calling her ex to see, once again, if she was allowed to have the day with her children.

Twenty minutes later, the exhausted woman was out of the shower and slipped on her favorite fuzzy robe. Pulling her wet hair out from underneath the collar of her robe, she made her way downstairs and put on the coffee pot for herself. She passed the fridge, brushing her fingers over a painting Jack had made for her when he was seven and she had saved.

Not a moment went by when she wasn't thinking about her children, whether people could believe that or not. Every time she made herself something to eat, she thought about her beautiful children. Every time she would put her head to her pillow, she thought about her beautiful children. Every time she poured herself a drink or put her lips to any type of bottle, she thought about her beautiful children.

Hearing the small ding from her coffee maker, she took the pot and poured the steaming hot coffee into her favorite mug.

She breathed in the bitter smell just as she had the steam from her shower, and she brought the hot liquid to her lips. It stung her tongue, burning the roof of her mouth, and she couldn't be more grateful for the pain.

More often than not, she believed she deserved it.

Her eyes filled with tears for now the third time that morning. It was already after noon, and her house was empty. She didn't have her children, she didn't have the man she loved, she didn't have her job and now she barely had anyone in her life who wanted to spend time with her. Taking the vodka bottle from underneath her sink, Emily poured until her coffee was overflowing and spilling onto the kitchen counter.