A/N: Here's chapter 7, hope you all like it! Please keep reviewing, I really really appreciate it.

And I own nothing.


"She looks happy," Hotch observed to the woman sitting to his right. Their flight home had been delayed because of a storm, so they were currently grounded at the private Virginia Beach airport. Emily glanced up from her book to see her charge and Reid engaged in a game of chess – Reid, Emily noticed, was going easy on the girl. Bless his heart.

"She does," Emily agreed. "Sometimes it's hard to remember what she went through just days ago. She's too good at compartmentalizing for her own good, I think." Hotch turned to her with an amused look.

"Sounds like someone else I'm familiar with," he said, and Emily looked defensive for a moment before she shrugged.

"Takes one to know one," she shot back, and Hotch chuckled good- naturedly.

"I'm worried, though. For her. She hides her feelings exceptionally well, and I don't think it's healthy. I think I'm going to make an appointment with a therapist for her. Do you think she'll hate me for that?"

"If she does, you know you're doing your job as her mom," Hotch replied, and Emily gave a snort.

"Great."


Hotch started awake. It look him a moment to get his bearings before he realized what had woken him up – Jack was having a nightmare. He could hear the telltale whimpering that he had become so attuned to. Then he opened his eyes. Not Jack. Lilly. And they were on the plane. They had finally left around midnight, and though the flight was exceptionally short, they had all fallen asleep within seconds of settling in. He could feel the signs of beginning descent as he woke.

The girl lying across from him was twitching in her sleep and occasionally letting out a slight whimper. He glanced to Emily. She was fast asleep, nestled up against Morgan – Hotch felt an irrational surge of jealousy before he turned to the more pressing matter. He knelt down next to the young girl.

"Lilly," he said softly. "Lilly, wake up. You're safe, wake up Lilly," he murmured like a chant until the young girl's eyes flitted open. She looked surprised, and afraid.

"It was just a nightmare, Lilly. You're alright. You're safe, and you're almost home," he reassured her.

"Do they ever stop?" Lilly asked quietly, and Hotch wasn't sure how to answer.

"No," he decided on honesty. "But over time, they become easier and easier to deal with. Especially if you have people who care around you," he said, and Lilly swallowed.

"I'm sorry I woke you," she said, and Hotch saw her work to conceal her vulnerability – ironically, a trait she shared with her new foster parent.

"It's okay. I have them too. So does my son," he shared, and Lilly looked at him surprised.

"You have a son?"

"Jack, he's five. His mother died a few months ago," Hotch answered.

"I'm so sorry," Lilly said sincerely. "I've never really known what it was like to lose a real mom, you know? But I think it would really suck. Anyway, I'm sorry."

"Thank you," Hotch responded. "I'm sorry, too, Lilly."

"Thanks," the girl gave him a small smile. "For uh, you know, being honest with me," she said quietly as she picked up the People magazine on the table in front of her. Hotch settled back into his seat on the other side of the aisle.

"Hotch," a drowsy voice came from beside him where Emily was no longer leaning on Morgan, but was freshly awake and had watched some of his interaction with Lilly.

"She had a nightmare," he explained, and Emily nodded, still looking at him curiously. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just nice to see your softer side in action," she smiled.


"Well, here we are. Home sweet home," Emily announced as she drew open the door into her apartment, Lilly behind her. Both were apprehensive – it was the proverbial moment of truth. "Here's the kitchen, obviously. And the living area, and that little corner right there is like my office – I may or may not display workaholic tendencies," she tried to joke, but Lilly missed it, too busy investigating her new surroundings. She pulled open the fridge.

"Um, do you really live here?" she asked, noting the four cans of Diet Coke, lone apple, and unidentified leftovers in a plastic container.

"We'll go shopping in the morning," Emily promised. "It's just easier to order food or eat out when you're by yourself." She felt a twang inside when she realized how sad that sentence was, but Lilly didn't seem to notice.

"And upstairs, that's where the bathroom is, and the bedrooms," the duo trudged up the stairs, and Emily led the girl to her new room. "There's not much in it – a futon you can sleep on tonight, and we'll get you real furniture tomorrow. And if you want to change the wall color, that's fine too, really anything you want we can do," Emily rambled nervously and Lilly pushed open the door and looked in. The walls were a beautiful deep yellow color – almost orangey, even. There was a half-filled bookcase, an old wooden dresser, and a futon that had been made up as a bed. A framed print of Van Gogh's Starry Night hung on one wall.

"What do you think?" Emily asked as Lilly spun around, checking out everything. Lilly gave a sincere smile.

"It's perfect. I like the color. It's warm. It feels…homey, I suppose," Lilly answered.

"I'm glad," Emily said happily. "Alright Lilly, it's late so we should get to bed, but if you need anything at all please let me know. The towels and stuff are in the cabinet in the bathroom, and use anything in there that you need. We'll make sure you get everything tomorrow, okay? We can hit the mall, I have to stop by the office tomorrow, but it'll be quick." Lilly nodded.

"Your coworkers are really nice. Especially Hotch?" Lilly's voice was quiet. "At first he kinda freaked me out because he was like super serious and his eyes were always like crazy intense, but he uh, helped me out. He may have even smiled," she noted, and Emily chuckled.

"Yeah, that's Hotch," she said, and her voice carried a hint of pride. "And I saw you and Reid were hitting it off," she added, changing the subject.

"Spencer? Yeah, he's real weird but hilarious. He let me win at chess, but don't tell him I knew. He reminds me of one of my old foster brothers – Matt. It was my fourth home, I was seven and Matt was fifteen. He was smart too – not as creepy smart as Spencer, but definitely smart. He looked out for me, you know? Taught me how to read and helped me with my math. We were only together for a year, I think, but I never forgot him," the girl said wistfully. "That was the closest I ever got to having a real sibling. It was nice."

"Lilly, may I ask you a question?" Emily sat down beside the girl on the futon.

"I guess,"

"How many homes have you been in?" Emily asked carefully. Lilly turned to face her.

"Thirteen," she said simply. "Fourteen now, I guess, since I'm here."

"Well, this one's gonna be the one that sticks," Emily said surely, and Lilly gave her a half smile.

"I hope so," the girl looked down.

"I know so," Emily said forcefully. "Lilly, this is your home now. It's as much yours as it is mine – I don't want you to ever feel like you're not a permanent fixture here, because you are. This is your home now, okay? And this is your family," she gestured to the two of them. "Us. It's us now, and this is our home," she emphasized. "Now, we have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow, so it's bedtime. Try to get some sleep, okay?" Emily stood, and Lilly looked up.

"Okay," she agreed. Then, without warning, she stood up and wrapped her small frame around her new foster mother. Emily was taken aback at first, but quickly squeezed Lilly tightly against her as the young girl seemingly clung to her as if her life depended on it. Finally, Lilly let go, and stepped back, busying herself with searching through her bag for her pajamas.

"Goodnight, Lilly," Emily said softly as she left the room. "Sweet dreams."