CHAPTER FOUR

After determining that they were a safe distance away from the house and that no one was following them, Hotch finally lost his usually tightly screwed lid on his bottle of emotions.

"WHAT IN GOD'S NAME WAS THAT?!" He screeched, still shaken up from the lasting adrenaline high. Emily had known that his outburst had been coming; she had been watching his left eyebrow twitch for the past two minutes, but that didn't stop her from wincing at his tone.

When Prentiss didn't reply, and remained silently staring past the dashboard focused on their hasty retreat with a tight, unwavering clench of her jaw, it enraged Hotch into near fury. But not aimed at her directly. Well at least not all of it. Oh no, this blinding rage was focused on this situation entirely, Prentiss' involvement being the least enraging. He was more concerned in exactly how she was wrapped up in all of this to begin with, and he could hardly restrain the worry from seeping into his voice, instead letting the anger show. Although, he felt that he had the right to know what the hell just happened, seeing as he was now very much a prominent part of it.

After sitting tensely in complete silence for a minute longer, they heard the unmistakable sound of sirens, and lots of them. And it suddenly hit Hotch: the team!

"Prentiss, the team! We need to call the team and tell them what's going on," he stated, flipping open his cell phone to dial Rossi's number. But before he could even get the phone to his ear, it was being yanked out of his hands by none other than the woman in the seat next to him.

"Prentiss, what the hell do you think you're doing?" He sputtered angrily, substantially surprised that anyone would even think of doing that to him. He was well aware that he was one of the most feared agents in the BAU, and he chose to maintain that outward persona for the certainty of knowing that no one would ever question him, or dare to counter him. In their line of work, he couldn't have, wouldn't have anybody second-guessing his choices.

"Sorry Sir, but we can't alert the team to anything. It will only make the situation worse," she replied in a flat tone.

"How could you possibly know that? And just who do you think you are suddenly calling all the shots here?"

Emily had always known that he had a slightly anal, and one hundred percent dominant personality, but she was surprised, and if she was completely honest with herself, more than a little angry that he would pull out the 'boss man' card with her at this particular moment.

"Who am I? Who Am I? I'm the one whose house just gotten broken into! I'm the one that they were after, and I'm the one who knows the entire situation, or even has any sort of clue as to what the hell is going on here! You are the one who has no fucking clue as to what just happened, and you are the one that is going to sit there in my car and let someone else call the shots for once in your goddamn life! I will tell you again, and hopefully my words will sink in this time; calling the team will only make things worse. For everyone."

Opening his mouth to retort, he shut it again, having nothing to reply to that statement at the moment. He was completely taken aback by what had just been said to him by his subordinate. He had never, not in his entire career, heard someone speaking to him in such as disrespectful way. Opening and closing his mouth in frustration and confusion, his mind suddenly drew a blank on a logical counter to he statement. After all, she was right. He didn't have any clue what was going on, not in the slightest. And he knew that he was being a little bit anal, it was just that he was used to being in charge, used to having no one counter his decisions. Ever. And what had she done wrong, really? She grabbed the phone from his hand to stop him from making, in her opinion, a big mistake. If he was honest with himself, it was sort of refreshing in a way. It made him wonder what else she had been wanting to say to him over the years, but had instead held back.

Sitting to his left, Emily was silently reviewing all of the options she had for work after she had gotten fired. Because that was clearly what was going to happen here.

God, I can't believe I actually SAID that to my boss! What is wrong with you Emily? Can't even keep your damn mouth such for two seconds.

She was absolutely appalled that she had said that to her boss, and sat staring out the windshield, trying to focus instead on her driving, well speeding rather, seeing as she was going a good fifteen miles per hour above the speed limit, rather than determining how angry he was.

But he hasn't yelled at me, or said anything for that matter, so maybe it's a good sign. Or a bad one, she thought dryly. Maybe he's just trying to come up with a harsh enough verbal beating for me. Yeah, that's probably it.

"You're right Prentiss. I'm sorry."

But whatever she was expecting, it wasn't that.

"I—what? Oh uh, it's alright sir."

"But I would like to know why it is that we are leaving the team to find out that your apartment has been broken into and trashed and there is no sign of either one of us—from the news. You know what's going to happen when they do find out."

Thinking of it from that perspective immediately made her feel guilty for her decision. Although she knew it was the right one, she hadn't thought of the fact that the whole team would be beside themselves with worry when they found out what had happened at her apartment. And, their fear would escalate when they couldn't get ahold of their boss after hearing the news.

"I know that they will worry when they see the news. But we will be in touch with them before morning, so at least they will know we are safe. And that we are together."

"But you just said that we couldn't—"

Knowing what he was going to say, she cut him off with a wave of her had and said, "I know, Hotch. I'm not going to call, I said 'get in touch.'"

"Stop being so elusive Prentiss. What the hell does that mean?"

"It means that I have an alternate way of communicating with the team. Well Garcia and JJ to be exact. It's secure, and won't be able to be tracked. A few months ago after Garcia was shot and was on her medical leave from work, she set up a private chat room that could only be used by the three of us. And knowing her, she set up every cyber-wall and every protection she knows how, even though it was just a fun little site that we use to communicate," Emily said, softly smiling at the unnecessary precautionary measures that Garcia had taken. Measures that she now realized would connect them with the team at a time when they needed them most, and she silently sent a prayer of thanks to the quirky tech goddess. She just hoped that Garcia or JJ would think to check the website.

Hotch wasn't used to being confused. And right now, the curve ball he was getting prom Emily Prentiss was the biggest he had ever experienced. He was so befuddled with everything that was going on, he didn't even know what questions to ask. Being confused wasn't an emotion that he was particularly privy to, and he knew that Emily knew this as well.

If anything, Aaron Hotchner was a levelheaded, hyper-aware profiler. So he did what he did best. He profiled. Although he knew it was against bureau code, and more specifically, is own code of conduct, that thought was the furthest from his mind at that particular moment. If had previously been focusing more clearly on her overall demeanor before he went all 'boss man' on her, he would have seen the anxiousness in the way she drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, anxiousness that was clearly not only from what had just happened, but from what was about to be shared. He would have seen that her reluctance to share information was not to make him mad, but because whatever it was she was hiding was something that she didn't feel comfortable talking about. And because he could clearly tell that she at least had more of an inkling as to what they were up against than he did, he knew that it was probably best to let her run things.

For now.

Watching as she nervously bit her lip and drummed her fingers, constantly checking her review mirrors, he was appalled that he hadn't recognized her behavior for what it was from the start. If she hadn't been so distracted with god knows what was going through her head, he knew that she would have noticed the sudden silence due to his lack of objection, or that he had been staring at her intently for almost a full minute now. As much as he hated not having immediate answers,and as close as he was to forcing her to stop the car and demand an explanation this instant, he didn't. And that was solely for one reason.

Emily Prentiss was scared.

More frightened than he had ever seen her. More than she had been in
Joe Smith's workshop, or even in the compound with Benjamin Cyrus. And that fact alone unnerved him more than he could ever describe. Without realizing it, she had become the rock of the team, even more so than himself. Whenever he couldn't do what was expected of him as a friend, more so than a boss, Emily was the one to jump in. The one to stay coolly calm and composed in every situation, the one who could reach Spencer in a way that no one else could, who could calm Morgan's flaring temper with a simple look, and the one who could reduce an unsub to a cowering child during an interrogation. She had always been the female equivalent of himself, never wavering, always compartmentalizing, and it unnerved him for that composure to crack, even the tiniest bit. Because in a twisted way, his mind told himself that if she could crack, than so could he. And that scared the hell out of him.

After another half hour on the road undisturbed, Emily was finally calm enough to sit still in her seat. Looking to her right, she noticed that while Hotch was sitting rigid as always in his seat, his eyes were repeatedly drooping shut, and then suddenly widening again as he realized he was drifting off.

"Hotch, why don't you get some sleep?" She said, hoping that he would need little convincing on this topic. She could use a bit of time by herself to get herself under control. He had seen her usually permanently placed emotional mask slip more than enough today, and she was looking forward to a few hours to think without his adamant presence hovering over her, silently demanding answers.

But, seeing the incredulous look he shot at her, she knew that he wasn't going down without a fight—even though he knew that his body would soon betray him anyways.

"I for one took a nap when I got home after the case. You on the other hand haven't slept for almost twenty hours, and no one got more than four hours rest the night before either. I'm planning on driving for awhile longer—maybe through the night, I'm not sure. But I promise that you aren't going to miss anything falling asleep just this once Hotch."

Glancing at the clock that read almost 2am, he knew that he was fighting a loosing battle, both with his body, and the woman next to him.

Seeing the logic in her statement, he nodded towards her, silently giving in.

"But if anything—I mean ANYTHING happens while I'm asleep, I want you wake me up right away. Got it Prentiss?" he said, throwing her a stern glare to make sure she knew that he was dead serious.

"Got it Sir," she replied with a slight twitch to her upper lip, happy that he had complied much easier than she initially thought he would have.

He must be even more tired than I thought.

"Goodnight Hotch," she said in a softer tone than she had previously been using.

"Goodnight Prentiss."

Okay, I just had to put in the little rant of Emily's. I thought it worked considering the stress they were under, as well as Hotch's obvious controlling personality. Plus, I view Emily as kind of a 'no-bullshit' kind of person so I thought it was fitting.

And don't worry, answers are coming soon!

Hope you enjoyed!