So what do you do when you can't sleep? Good question. I tried flipping through channels, watching free movies On Demand and playing poker - by myself. Nothing works. I eventually lay back and consider pounding my fist into my brain. I bet that'd stop the dreams. But I don't. Instead, in the distance, I hear my phone ring. This relieves me. Anything to keep my head clear. That, and my fist away from my brain. I fumble around quickly to answer it before it wakes up Jack. It's about 5:30 A.M., although I'm not too certain, because in an attempt to fix a crooked clock, I dropped it and broke it. I see that Reid is calling and I am silently praying he's not asking me to come into work for a case.

"Reid? What's up?" I ask right away, sounding slightly frantic.

Reid pauses and then takes in a breath. "I was just making sure your okay."

I nod and close my eyes, very relieved. There must not be a case then. "Yeah, Reid, I'm okay," I lie. I bite my lip. "Are you okay?"

Reid sighs. I can hear his struggles through the phone. I feel bad for him, really; but another part of me feels like I can't deal with this. Not right now, anyway. I hope he doesn't say too much. "Yeah, I'm alright." he says very sadly. "But I just want things to go back to normal."

"They never will be." I say very coldly. I wish I didn't say it, at the very least, not so harsh, but it just comes out so easily I surprise myself. I can imagine how much I must've taken him off guard.

"I know." he says quietly. I don't think he's offended by my honesty; I think he agrees. "I just wish it was."

"I know." But wishing isn't enough sometimes. You have to move on, plain and simple. Besides, moving on is much easier for him than it is for me. He doesn't have to see her everytime he closes his eyes to sleep. He doesn't have a reason to keep hanging on. I feel cold thinking this way, but I still find myself thinking it.

There's a long pause hanging in the air for about a couple minutes. Eventually I sigh, and this gets Reid to talking again.

"Okay, well, if your doing okay..." his voice trails off. I can see this is his way of either a) getting me to talk more or b) to hang up. I don't know which one he wants. I'm okay with either, actually.

I pause. "Reid, did you want to talk to me something?" I can tell he does.

He pauses and then sighs. I was right. "What is it?" I press.

"It's just that..." Reid is a very good talker. We all know this. Except for when it comes to opening up, then he stutters and takes minute-long pauses between each word and everything kind of jumbles out frantically. Sometimes it's aggravating. Today is one of those days it doesn't bother me as much. "...I mean, I know everyone misses her. Obviously they do. I'm not saying we're the only ones who care..."

I nod. I understand what he means, but I let him talk it out, because I feel that he wants to. "It's just that, this is very hard. I've never really lost anyone before. I mean, Gideon's left, but that was different. That hurt, but not like this."

I nod again. I take a sit on my couch and rest my elbows on my knees, hunched over and feeling the heavy weight of exhaustion. I really, really need a good night's sleep.

"I mean, at least when Gideon left, I knew he was okay. Or I hoped he would be, someday. But this...she's really gone." his voice cracks, but I think he regains composure. I admire him for his strength. I didn't know he had it in him. "She's really, really gone, Hotch."

I feel this strong sadness wash over me like a big wave, and it covers me whole. I feel even more tired and yet I know if I really tried right now, I wouldn't be able to sleep. I picture Emily's last minutes on Earth and I feel a rattling feeling of guilt and emptiness and just the plain and harsh feeling of missing her. I know Reid feels it too. In some way, Reid and I get each other. Even long before this situation. This situation kind of binds us together, quietly, but I think we can both see it.

"Reid..." I begin with intentions of spieling off words that I hope would be reassuring to him, but once I say his name, I realize I'm so lost in thoughts and memories that I don't actually have any idea in hell what I'm going to say. Nothing will make this better, anyway.

He waits for me. "Yeah?" he finally asks.

I inhale a sharp, long breath and try to exhale as calmly and softly as I can. Then I decide, for the very first time, to speak honestly. "I've been having dreams."

Reid understands this. Reid's had nightmares before. "Me too."

First I pipe up, excited and relieved. The thought that maybe he's been seeing her too makes me feel less guilty for some reason. "Really?" my tone totally changes. I sound so happy it shocks me.

"Yeah," but Reid's tone stays deflated and burdened. "I keep picturing her laying there... it's horrific."

My breath catches in my chest and it's almost a struggle to find it. I never saw that. I don't know what I'd do if I had to see that again. "Oh my God, Reid," I breathe out. "I'm so sorry."

Reid swallows very loudly and I can hear the sadness, so strong in his tone it makes him sound deeper and very less Reidlike. "Yeah, I mean, it's only happened twice, but still. It hasn't happened in a couple of days though..."

I feel my shoulders slump and I almost feel myself truly deflating, like a balloon dwindling down to nothing. I shouldn't feel saddened by this, but I really am. "Oh...so the dreams are gone?"

"Yeah, pretty much." he then sighs, distressed. "But who knows if they'll come back?"

"Well, see, with my dreams...I keep having them. Every single time I go to sleep. It never fails."

Reid pauses, probably considering this rationally. "How do you mean?" he eventually asks. He must've tried figuring out a solution, but couldn't. This disappoints me even further. I deflate once more.

"I mean, I keep having dreams. But they're a different kind of dream. I can't feel anything or any emotion or pain or anything, but I can control everything." I realize how crazy this sounds, but I trust that Reid knows me too well to know I'm not making this up. So I keep explaining. It's easy actually, once I got started. "Like she's there, every time, Emily is, and I can say whatever I want to her and she reacts like it's real life."

Reid stays quiet. It scares me a little bit, but I keep talking. "So...what do I do?"

Reid inhales. "Every night?"

"Every time I sleep. Night or day."

Reid takes a long pause. The fact that even brainy can't figure out what's wrong scares me so much I feel shaky and queasy. "What do I do?" I ask him again, my tone sounding very shaky and almost girly. Sometimes it gets like that when I'm getting hysterical.

"I don't know, Hotch. I mean, do you really think it's like Emily's spirit visiting you through your dreams?" The way he says this is kind of accusatory, like I'm all of a sudden talking to God or demons or consulting spirits or something. I try not to get offended. I don't think he meant for it to sound that way.

"No, I never thought that," I fidget in my seat uncomfortably. "That's kind of crazy, don't you think?"

"Well, do you actually think it's Emily contacting you from the dead?" The calmness in his tone relaxes me a little bit. Like we're not talking about me talking to a dead person, but rather discussing the weekend's weather forecast.

"No." I reply dully. "She never once brought up her being dead or anything like that. In fact, I told her."

Reid pauses. "You told her?" he sounds appalled.

"Yes, I told her, in my dreams."

"That she's dead?"

"Yes." I clarify very boldly, like I'm not ashamed. It's an act though, because I'm very ashamed. The thought of me waking up hot and sweaty after dreaming of her kissing my neck makes me feel dirty, and I try not to think about it.

"Wow. How'd she," he pauses, maybe feeling weird for asking, and hesitates. "How'd she take it?"

I try to not think of the absurdity of this whole situation. "She thought I was insane, obviously. Wouldn't you?"

"I don't think your insane." Reid states confidently. I want to hug him. For the first time, I actually want to hug him. I don't think I'll ever get to tell him how much that simple line comforted me.

"Thanks, Reid." I say sincerely.

"No problem." I can tell he's flattered by my thankfulness. Reid gets flustered by such simplicity. Someone appreciating him lights up his entire mood. "Now, have you slept?"

"Not very much. I either wake up horrified from the dream or frustrated or -" I stop myself in my tracks.

"...Or?" He prods.

I sigh, ashamed. I decide to be honest - again. But this time, this honesty stings. "Or...happy."

"Happy?" He doesn't sound surprised.

"You know, just happy to have seen her." Okay, well in some way, that's not a lie.

"Well that's understandable," he almost sounds envious. I want to tell him that he shouldn't want this. But maybe I'd be jealous too if I didn't understand it completely.

"I haven't slept very much at all. It's wearing me down, Reid."

Reid sounds very sympathetic. I'm not usually the type of guy who likes sympathy, it's annoying, actually; but today I welcome it. I think I deserve it. Only a little bit. If he buys me a dozen roses or something, I think that's pushing it and not only that, but a little funny. And not in a ha-ha way, but in a, I didn't know you felt this way about me, and quite honestly, it's creepy so stop it.

"So what do I do?" I ask again, this time practically yelling it.

"Well...maybe your conscious won't let you forget her until you forgive yourself."

"Forgive myself? For what?" I ask. Although I already know.

"Come on, Hotch. We all know you blame yourself for this. You blame yourself for everything."

I find myself defending myself on this, although it's the cold hard truth. "I don't blame myself for everything. That's exaggerating."

"No, it's not." Reid states, almost sternly. It surprises me how much he's positive. I decide to let it go and get back on track, to what really matters.

"So once I forgive myself, she'll be gone?"

Reid sighs. He sounds sad. "Maybe. It's worth a shot." he pauses, exhales. "Uh, Hotch, can I ask you for a favor?"

"Go ahead." I figured he deserved at least that. He'd helped me a lot. I really need a friend right now. Preferably an alive one.

"Can you, uh, tell her that I miss her?"

"Reid, she won't understand. She looks at me like I'm crazy when I blurt out stuff like that."

"I know, I don't mind." his voice sounds deep and hoarse and sad. "Just, tell her, please? Tell her that I always thought she was funny and, you know, tell her all of the things I never had the guts to just say."

I nod. "I will, Reid." And I actually intend on doing it.

Reid's voice cracks again but he remains calm. "Thank you. Now try to get some sleep."

I decide I have no choice but to. "I will. I'll see you soon, Reid."

I think he's about to ask me if I plan on returning back to work anytime soon, but he doesn't. I'm glad, since I really don't know. Maybe my lack-of sleeping will kill me first.

"Okay. Take care of yourself." and I know he means it. I agree to that and we hang up. I head upstairs, set my alarm to wake me up twenty minutes before Jack's school bus arrives so we can talk over cereal and oatmeal like we do everyday, and then crawl into my bed. I know I have to get fairly soon and that makes me under pressure, which makes it very, very hard to sleep. But after I mutter a few cuss words and readjust my pillow for the three-hundredth time, I fall asleep.

I'm back to dreamland. I appear in a bar. This time, as if this whole thing couldn't get any weirder, I arrive in an actual memory. The whole team is at the bar. Morgan's dancing with girls, Garcia and JJ are laughing over drinks and Reid's attempting to flirt with a waitress. I think he's failing. I feel bad for him and consider helping him out, but when I see Emily step out, I get completely distracted and flustered. Her dark hair looks so shiny I have to try very hard not to reach out and stroke it. Her dark eyes stand out so boldly and when she finds JJ, she pulls her into a big hug, her smile bright and she's laughing. I'm so glad I can't cry. Otherwise, I'd be breaking down. She didn't deserve to die. She was so happy. She then pulls Garcia into a hug, and they exchange inside jokes and she then goes over to Morgan, playfully poking at him, and then walks by Reid and touches his shoulder. He acknowledges her appearance, half-smiles then goes back to the waitress. I feel bad for Reid. I bet he'd react differently had he have known she'd be dead three months later.

When she approaches me, she smiles big and bright. I try to remain still. "Hotch, why aren't you dancing?" she jokes.

I smile a very sad smile. I can feel it. It feels heavy and it takes effort to smile at all. "Not really my thing."

She playfully nudges my arm. "No, really?" she asks fake-surprised. She then fake-gasps. "I had no idea!"

I try to laugh, but I can't. I'm not here to have fun with her. I'm here to get rid of her. I feel bad about it, but I try not to think about it. I grab onto her arm and lead her to an empty table, hidden behind all of the commotion and music and people. We're completely alone. I try not to think about her kissing my neck. I really, really don't want to wake up again with a little surprise...

"Can we sit down for a minute?" I ask.

She narrows her eyes at me, immediately suspicious then nods. "Yeah, sure, absolutely. You okay?"

I pull the seat closer to hers and sit down. "I just have to say something. Before you say anything, I need you to listen."

She nods.

"And really listen. Just listen. Don't talk until I'm done. Okay?"

She nods again, this time her smile fading into a frown. "Yeah. But your worrying me."

"Don't be." I reassure her, flashing her a half-hearted smile. "Just listen."

"I can do that." she agrees, looking like it's a struggle to stay positive. I don't blame her for mildly freaking out. If this was her acting this way with me, I'd feel the same.

"It's important that you hear me out," I begin. I inhale, look down at my hands and try my utmost to make sense. "We all love you, Emily. I mean, really love you. Your like our family member. We're having such a hard time -" I cut myself off. I remind myself not to mention that she's already dead. I was about to say, We're having such a hard time with you gone. But I decide to change it. "- Such a hard time telling you how we really feel. Because let's face it, none of us are really good with emotions. But I can promise you this,"

I take her hands in mine and I stare her directly in her eyes. I feel like it's my last chance, for some reason. "That we will always love you. You'll always be our family member. There won't ever be a time when we hear the name 'Emily' and don't think about you and your big dark eyes and your jokes," I smile another sad smile. "Or your laugh."

She smiles too, but I can tell she's weary.

"Anyway," I realize I'm dragging this on. It sounds dumber than I wanted it to, I decide. "Reid also wanted me to tell you that he..." what do I say? "That he misses you."

She furrows her eyebrows. "How is that possible?" she laughs. "I work with him pretty much everyday."

I shake my head and smile. "I just had to say that. He told me to. He loves you and misses you. We all do."

Her smile falls and she looks moved by this. Confused, but moved. Moved is good, I tell myself.

I hold her hands tighter. I can't feel it, but I know she can. I look as hard into her eyes as I possibly can. If this is her spirit I'm talking to, then dammit, respond with something like, I miss you guys too! It's not your fault I died, Hotch.

But I can see she's terribly lost. I look down at our hands, which remain entwined.

"I just needed to say that." I inhale a long breath. "You mean so much to all of us, God, Emily, I can't even say how much. And you didn't deserve to go like that. No one does, but especially not you."

"Go like... what?"

I pause and my eyes widen. Dammit! I've said too much. Now what? "Just... never mind that. Just, do you hear me?"

She nods quickly. "Yeah. You all love me." she smiles. "I've always known that, though. I love you guys too." She touches my arm. "You too, Hotch."

I smile. I've wanted to hear that. But still, it doesn't make me feel any better. I take her hands into mine again. "I hope you understand why this has to stop."

She looks at me, puzzled. "What has to stop?" she looks very skeptical. Suddenly it doesn't matter if I make sense. Maybe deep inside of this Emily, is Emily listening to me, the Emily that understands.

"I have to stop seeing you like this," in my dreams, I meant. "It hurts too much. I miss you too much. How can I get over it if I'm always seeing you?"

Now she looks about ready to have me committed. "I'm so lost, Hotch." she admits tiredly.

"I know you are." I force a smile. "I just had to say that. That and," I try to breathe, but I forgot, you don't breathe in dreams. It's all imaginary. "And it's not my fault."

"Not your fault?"

"If something ever happens to you. Or, you know, anyone. I need to stop blaming myself automatically."

She smiles at this. "I one-hundred percent agree." I can tell she means it. My body relaxes. If Reid's theory is accurate, this is my last time seeing her, because it feels like I've truly forgiven myself.

I stand up and lift her up, and pull her so hard into me I feel I might crush her. Then I kiss her. Really kiss her, even though I can't feel it, I swear I almost can. The kiss is so passionate and alive and real, it almost feels like she's really there.

She pulls away eventually, catching her breath. Her eyes are glistening. She stays close to me, in my arms. She feels so nice in my arms like this. I try not to think of all the times I could've been holding her just like this.

"What was that for?" she asks, almost breathless.

I smirk. "I've been thinking about that all the time lately." I suddenly feel disturbed. Like I'm beginning to wake up. I feel scared, like she's slipping away. "Did you hear me before? About Reid missing you and loving you?"

She nods, concerned again. "Yeah, but I still don't get why you say he misses me -"

I cut her off. "Just understand that for me." I kiss her one last time with such force I almost bite her lip. I collide my nose and forehead with hers and we stay exactly like that, frozen, until I wake up. I jolt up thirty minutes after my sleep, looking at my digital clock on my nightstand. I'm not waking up breathing heavily or depressed or really much of anything. Funny thing is, my first thought is, that I read somewhere that when you dream, it's really only thirty seconds or something like that. I wonder what I was doing asleep for thirty minutes.

But once I grab a piece of skin on my arm and pinch it very hard, and I cuss out-loud, realizing I'm really awake, the realness of everything hits me. I feel so many emotions it's overwhelming, pouring over me like thick cream in a coffee cup. Sadness, loneliness, happiness. The one thing I don't feel is guilt.