Were almost done! I hope you enjoy this chapter! I played a lot with emotions, especially the un-subs! thank you for reading and reviewing, you all are so encouraging to me and inspire me to write more! Thank you!
Harvey looked like any moment he could break, losing all control.
Hotch watched him pace. It looked as if was contemplating on who to get angry with, Emily or this other unknown person.
Harvey began mumbling to himself, all of which was incoherent for lack of volume.
Emily and Hotch would look to one another and then to Harvey as if trying to guess what he might do. They both hesitated to say anything, afraid of they might say would cause him to lose all hold on reality and it wasn't something they were willing to risk, at the expense of their lives.
Minutes passed and Harvey's words became more audible and understanding as his frustration continued to build. It was obvious he was arguing with himself about things he had done and things that had happened personally to him. He was externalizing his internal struggle which was helpful for the two profilers who had no choice but to listen.
Emily vaguely heard Harvey say something about his mother being dead. She couldn't quite connect his words but by the look on his face she could tell it deeply saddened him, to the point where he ended up sitting on the floor and crying. Emily's heart paced, this was loop hole, she could use this to their advantage.
Harvey was beginning to fracture piece by piece, desperately grasping to hold on to himself and remain in control.
It was time for Emily to empathize, she needed to make the most of this opportune moment. How do I begin? Should I mention my abortion, that's sort of close to losing someone…but not really? Should I make up a story? The story would have to have the same emotional impact as losing a mother…Emily's thoughts were unexpectedly disrupted by Hotch, with a bold and blunt statement.
"I lost my mother too." Hotch said with real sorrow, pouring from the words as he spoke.
Harvey immediately reacted by jumping to his feet and running over to Hotch, sticking the point of the knife on his chest, "I loved my mother!" Harvey yelled, almost as if he was trying to convince himself.
Hotch remained seemingly un-phased by the knife, that was now threatening his life, "Do you want to know how she died?" His words sounded angry, hurt and guilt laden.
Emily watched from across the room, as Hotch's eyes glazed over with salty emotion, bearing a tormenting anguish. The moment was real and the silence lingered with unbearable heartache. To know that someone she loved appeared to be suffering so greatly was more than she could stand and finally the tears began traipsing down her cheeks. It was then she realized how Hotch had been feeling for most of the past year and she understood what he had been going through watching her suffer. Knowing she had caused Hotch the pain she was now feeling for him burdened her, magnifying the sentiment. This had become Emily's point of realization, identifying with Hotch while he was identifying with Harvey.
Harvey's interest was piqued. Hotch was compelling, exposing true feelings about his mother's death. Harvey saw that it was real and was hanging on every word, "Tell me what happened and don't lie!" he said pushing the blade ever so slightly into Hotch's chest.
Hotch could feel the tip of the blade, beginning to pierce his skin but ignored it and began, "I was ten. My brother and I were playing with cars in front of the T.V. My mother came into the room with a plate of food for our dad. I looked at her and she was so scared, her hands were shaking. My dad grabbed the plate from her and looked at the food, he picked it up and flopped it back down, It's undercooked, he told her, just before breaking the plate across the front of her face."
Emily could hear Hotch replacing his sorrow with anger, while trying to make a point, at the height of his story. She felt by the tone in his voice as if he was defending her in an obscure way, which was a very valiant move with a knife being pressed into his chest.
Hotch continued as his jaw began to clinch tighter, "She fell to the floor and blood covered her face. She screamed at me to run. I took my brother's hand and we went to our bedroom. I made him hide in the closet while I stepped back out in the hallway. I watched as my father grabbed the end table, lifted it over his head and began beating my mother with it. I can still hear her scream and see the fear on her face as her body writhed with pain, trying to crawl away." Hotch raised his voice, "I could hear her bones breaking and I did nothing!" Hotch was a losing a hold on his control and turned the conversation back to Harvey, "Is that what happened to your mother? Did your father kill her and tell her she deserved it? Is that why you beat up Emily because you think it's right? Is that what your father taught you? That's what mine taught me, but my mother taught me to love, she taught me how to be gentle and kind and that's how I lived to honor her. She was so courageous in the face of adversity; it made me want to be stronger."
Harvey interjected pressing the knife a little farther into Hotch's chest, "But you did nothing to save her!"
"Did you do anything to save yours?" Hotch asked, nearly yelling in Harvey's face.
"I couldn't, I wasn't there." Harvey explained.
"And I was a scared ten year old boy who had a little brother to protect!"
Harvey was now infuriated, feeling as if he was being played, "I see what your trying to do, your trying to convince me what my father did was wrong when actually he was right! I know how you profilers work, remember I use to be one! My mother deserved what was coming to her!"
"Is that what you think?" Hotch said loudly challenging Harvey.
Harvey leaned in to Hotch's face, only inches away and said, "That's what I know."
The scene had escalated into something that was running out of control and Emily had to regain hold of the situation. "Harvey." She said almost with a hint of sweetness and affection emanating from her voice.
Harvey turned around, knife still clinched tightly in his fist, "What!" he yelled.
Emily could breathe now that the knife was no longer resting in Hotch's chest. She smiled at him and said softly, "Mothers are pretty special aren't they?"
"What is this, a good cop bad cop routine?"
"No." Emily told him, "Mothers are special and sometimes that have trouble showing how much they love you or how much they want to protect you."
The tables have turned. Hotch may have had the identifying story relating to Harvey's mother's death, but Emily was the one who had a mother that was most like Harvey's. Emily's mother was a diplomat, there was no time for precious moments, hugs, and kisses, reading books or playing games. Her mother was a serious woman who understood how to be a diplomat but not a mother. The thoughts of her mother disheartened her some, but Emily felt that growing up in that type of environment helped her to build stronger sense of self and enhanced her abilities to compartmentalize. Cutting had always been a weakness when things became rough, but she always overcame and right now, speaking to Harvey, that's what she was doing, overcoming the situation.
"What are you saying?" Harvey asked.
Emily still remained calm and quiet, even though inside she was suppressing an intensifying anger as she recalled what her life was like, "I'm saying that my mother didn't take a second out of her day to even notice I was in the room. You know when you're a kid and you fall down the stairs, or scrape a knee mom is always there to fix it, my mother ignored it, literally. She didn't fix my boos boos or protect me. She let me fall flat on my face, all the time. Sometimes that can be good for you but sometimes it's nice to have someone help pick you up, to know someone is there standing beside you."
Harvey walked up to Emily and pointed the knife at her throat, "Then why don't I believe you? You're not crying and you're not upset."
"I deal with my emotions differently than some people." Emily looked away, ashamed that she was so unbelievable. Her feelings were true she just couldn't convey them the way she wanted to.
"How? How do you deal with your emotions differently?" Harvey asked.
"Raise the sleeve up on my left arm." Emily couldn't look at Hotch, but wondered what kind of expression he had on his face.
Harvey reached over and jerked up her sleeve, partially ripping off the bandage and reopening the cut. "You're a cutter." He stated, almost surprised. "Does it help?" he seemed to ask sincerely.
"For a little while." Emily still couldn't look at Hotch, she didn't want to see the disappointment on his face. Little did she know, if she would have looked, she would have saw Hotch was showing understanding and a desperate yearning to help her.
Hotch watched from the across the room feeling a familiar heartache and pressing guilt for not seeing the signs and being able to help her through what she was suffering.
"This looks new, did your mom cause you to do this?" Harvey wondered.
Emily could see his mood was changing; she wasn't sure what to say. She knew she needed to tell the truth but if she told Harvey it was his fault there was no telling what he might do. Tactfully she tried to answer the question in a roundabout way, "My mom used to cause me to cut."
"Who caused this one?" Harvey's voice sounded gruff.
Emily could see she was losing him, "It's hard to explain. All I know to tell you is that I was hurting on the inside and the only way to make it better was to hurt on the outside."
"Was it me?" Harvey didn't wait for a response and said, "I was causing you pain and I didn't even know." He paused, grinned and finished with, "How clever of me."
Hotch spotted a growing sinister look on Harvey's face. The situation seemed to have reach its climax just before a fatal explosion. "Think about it Harvey."
Harvey laughed and said, "I just love this, you can see I'm planning to do something before I even do it."
Hotch disregarded Harvey's last statement and began ignoring his behavior. He needed to focus on getting Emily back to looking at him. He felt the intense desire to communicate and have an understanding, just in case things took a turn for the worse.
Emily was still avoiding eye contact.
Hotch didn't care that she cut herself; she was still the same Emily to him and always would be. Who doesn't have a few skeletons in their closet and at least one point in our lives we all do something that we are ashamed of.
Hotch understood that Emily expressing her feelings and exposing one of her darkest secrets was harder for her than most. She thought of it as a sign of weakness and not a sign of strength. When in actuality it takes a strong person to admit something so personal. Hotch kept his focus on Emily and spoke to her from across the room, "I don't care that you cut Emily."
Emily couldn't keep herself from crying as she looked at the splintered ceiling.
"Emily look at me." Hotch demanded, in his Unit Chief voice.
Emily let out a deep breath and looked over to Hotch.
Hotch cracked a grin and said, "See that wasn't so bad."
Emily smiled back. No matter the situation, even in the darkest abyss Hotch always pulled her through and made her feel that it was okay for her to express her innermost troubling emotions, without ever being judged. How does he do that? She wondered. He makes me feel so normal and safe with being myself and not just parts of me but all parts, even the darkest ones.
"You lied!" Harvey yelled. "You do love her!" Harvey jumped on top of Emily straddling her torso.
Emily suddenly lost the capacity to breathe deeply, with the weight of his body pressing down on her.
Harvey ripped off the loosely hanging band aid and without hesitation began cutting her arm, starting just above the one she had previously made.
"Leave her alone!" Hotch yelled, struggling against his chains, making them rattle violently.
Emily's body tensed and she gasped when she felt the knife break through her flesh. She watched as he slowly ran the blade the width of her arm, stopped and then started again above that cut creating a third.
"Leave her alone! If you really loved her you wouldn't hurt her!"
Emily looked at Hotch and told him, "I'm okay."
Harvey looked up from his work, "You hear that Hotch, she's okay. Maybe I should make the cuts a little deeper." Harvey applied more pressure.
Emily had to bit her lip, to keep from groaning with pain.
"I'm going to kill you Harvey! I said leave her alone!" Hotch yelled.
Harvey ignored him and continued cutting.
Emily's breathing was now identifiable by short, gasping breaths. She was totally focused on the cutting; it wasn't so bad when she had control over the depth of the cut and the amount of bleeding but these cuts could leave a scar and if they did, what would the team think? She looked over at Hotch and saw that he was yelling, but suddenly everything seemed to be silent. She was disconnecting from reality, once again giving in…but no, she couldn't, come on Emily, don't give up. You are okay; it's just a few cuts. Don't let Hotch think you're suffering so much. You're not dead, at least no now anyways. Emily started to take some slow, deep breaths feeling the blood pulse slowly out of her arms. The cuts throbbed repeatedly as if someone would apply an aching pressure then release.
"Why don't you turn around and face me you coward!" Hotch demanded of Harvey, "You think your so tuff, but you really aren't! You're scared and you know it! You have to keep us tied up to have control!" Hotch tried to divert Harvey's attention and was happy to see it worked.
Harvey looked to Hotch as he began the fourth cut, "Is that what you think, that I'm scared?"
"Until you prove otherwise, yes." Hotch growled at him.
Emily was thrilled that Hotch was getting Harvey's attention but she despised the knife resting deep into the tissue of her arm, wiggling around, exacerbating the pain, while they argued.
Hotch narrowed his eyes, challenging Harvey, "Get off of her."
Emily released an agonizing moan when Harvey nearly pressed the knife all the way through her arm, using it as a lever to jump back on to the floor.
"I'll show you I'm not a coward!" Harvey reached into his pocket pulling out a key and began fumbling with the locks on Hotch's chains.
Hotch waited impatiently, listening to each pad lock click open, one by one. Fortunately for Hotch, Harvey had waited to unlock his feet last and when the last locked clicked open Hotch sprung his leg forward, kicking Harvey in the face, knocking him flat on his back.
Briefly Emily's pain was masked by the fight that had ensued, watching as Hotch seemed to gain the upper hand, in a twisted turn of events. Hotch plummeted on Harvey swinging violently, knocking his face from side to side.
With each knuckle busting punch, Hotch could feel drops of blood splatter onto his face. His arms flung wildly in a ravenous motion, as he thought of Emily, unleashing his pent up rage for all she had endured. Harvey disappeared as images flashed before Hotch's face. Emily, his Emily, cowered in a corner hiding, crying unstoppable tears, waking from a terrifying dream, screaming with fear, grieving from the loss of her dog, getting sick when things were so out of her control and slowly watching her spirit being sucked bit by bit from her body, leaving nothing but a hollow shell. Then like lightening an unexpected image crossed his mind, Emily's smile, so loving, kind, caring and her strong determined spirit lighting up the room, like a warm ray of sunlight, embracing what the day had to give. It was so contagious because you knew in that moment, when Emily smiled all was well with the world even if it was for only a little while.
Hotch stopped abruptly nearly as quick as it had started. His animosity boiled over as he missed the smiling Emily, the Emily that was stolen from him by some woman beater that doesn't know if he loves his mom. Hotch looked down at his hands covered in blood, hovering above Harvey's mangled face. Silence lumbered in short, before Hotch began to notice Harvey's white teeth peeking out from under his lips that were growing into a smile. Hotch clinched Harvey's shirt underneath each of his hands, pulling his body slightly off the floor, bringing him closer to his face, "You stole her from me and from herself! You hurt her and terrorized her, for it all to end like this!" Hotch pulled Harvey a little closer, "I have one question left to ask you, was it worth it?"
Harvey tried to laugh sputtering blood from his mouth, "It was worth every fucking second."
With all his pinned up rage, Hotch instantly slammed him back down, plunging his head against the hardwood floor, not once but twice before letting his limp body fall from his hands. This time the stillness was wrought with an air of relief, tangled with hints of disappointment for loss of another sould.
Hotch stared at him. He had killed a man with his bare hands, was it worth it? Did I have any other choice?
"Aaron?" Emily said, when he didn't turn around right away.
After hearing his name, Hotch looked behind him, it was worth it and no there was no other choice. It was our lives over his and I wasn't going to let him take Emily away from me forever. Hotch stood to his feet quickly pacing to Emily's side, "I'm here baby. It's all over." He worked feverishly at untying her binds, beginning with her ankles.
Emily's leg muscles ached when the tension was released from them being placed in a tight position. Emily then felt Hotch's hands run smoothly up the sides of her body, outlining her curves as he worked his way to un-tying her wrists. She knew he wasn't doing it to be sensual, but lovingly, letting her know she was safe and that he was there for her.
"My arm." Emily told him, looking at the knife sticking out of her arm, just below her elbow.
Hotch fumbled feverishly with the knot on her right wrist and when her arm was free he stopped. He cupped the side of her face with one hand as his fingertips explored the softness of her hair, "You want me to pull it out?" Thinking that maybe she would want to do it herself.
"Please."
"Let me un-tie your other wrist and then I will." Carefully Hotch leaned over top of Emily, their bodies brushing against one another as he worked on the last knot.
"Hurry." Emily said, her voice, high toned and out of breath. The bed was moving slightly which was causing the knife to move immensely, creating more tissue damage in her arm. Emily could feel the rope fall off her wrist, but she let her arm lay still.
"This will only hurt just a second. I'll try to make it quick." Hotch assured her.
Emily moved her right arm that was screaming with pain at her shoulder joint, as it rotated down to grab hold of Hotch's slacks. She clinched the material in her fist and waited for him to pull out the knife.
Hotch felt his pants leg tighten and looked down. He could tell the anticipation was worse than the actual pain and quickly pulled it out without any warning.
Emily nodded her head and bit her bottom lip as she felt the blade being pulled from her arm. She finally breathed, "It's over?" Her voice wavered.
Hotch pulled his work shirt out of his pants and began unbuttoning the front.
"What are you doing?" Emily asked.
Hotch pulled the shirt off his arms, and began tearing a few strips of fabric. "Your arm is bleeding badly. I'm going to tie of each cut and then wrap it up." Left in his cotton white undershirt and black slacks he worked diligently to prepare and temporarily bandage Emily's arm.
Emily looked away, again feeling ashamed.
Hotch noticed, but didn't want to bring it to her attention knowing it would embarrass her more. "Grab hold of pants again, this may hurt."
Emily waited and just as Hotch pulled tightly; tying down the first cut she let out a small moan.
"I'm sorry." Hotch said gently, double knotting the strip of cloth.
"It's okay, just wasn't expecting it to be that bad is all. That hurt worse than pulling the knife out, but I can take it. You won't hear another peep out of me." Almost immediately after her remark, Emily eyes were squinted shut by bright blue and red lights, swirling through the windows of the cabin, followed by the sound of a helicopter hovering overhead.
One chapter left! I'd love to know what you thought if you have time!
