CHAPTER TEN

Alright guys, here it is! I sincerely apologize for how long its been but well…uhh….you know. Life and shit.

That being said, Monday is my birthday. So maybe I could get a few extra reviews on this one as an early present from all you readers? Please?

When Emily woke up, the first thing that she would have thought to hit her would be a sense of dread. Worry for what would happen, subliminal amounts of fear that she had yet to let hit her consciously, and an overall sense of hatred for the totality of the situation. To her surprise, that wasn't the first, or even second thought that crossed her mind in the morning.

Her first registered thought was about coffee.

She loved coffee. Everything about it. The taste, the smell, its magical awakening powers, its mixture of richness and bitterness all in one. As a teenager, she could never understand why adults could so much as stand the taste, let alone drink it by the gallon on a daily basis. But now, she more than understood, and shared that sentiment of regarding coffee as a fundamental entity of life.

As she lay in bed breathing in the scent of freshly brewed coffee, a smile crept over her face, still sleepily closed eyes crinkling in the process.

Although content as the independently single woman that she prided herself in being, she had to admit that it was nice waking up with someone else in her company. A man. One the brewed her coffee.

Hotch.

Her eyes flew open. Dragged from her coffee induced reminiscing, she swiftly pulled the covers back and planted her bare feet on the hardwood floors. Dragging her go bag with her, she made her way into the bathroom and turned on the shower. She needed time to think before confronting Hotch. Now that the alcohol had worn off, the adrenaline from the past two days was long gone, and they were secured in the safe house, it shouldn't have been a surprise to her that everything was rushing back. She felt awful. Awful for what he was being dragged into, for what she got him involved in, for taking him away from the team, from his son, for—Jack! She gasped audibly, dropping the bar of soap that was in her hand, barely hearing it clatter near her feat in the bathtub.

What was she going to do! She had inadvertently taken him away from the one thing that mattered most in his life! And she hadn't even acknowledged it!

Cursing herself in every way possible, she mentally ran over her options. There was nothing that she wanted to do more in that moment than to send him back home to be with his son, but she knew that he was already too involved to call it quits now. Not only would he never allow her to face this by herself, but also because they both were aware that he had now become a target with or without her presence. The same reason being why she couldn't simply leave him behind. There was no doubt in her mind that she would be able to give him the slip if she so wanted. Yet she knew that he would be way too worried about her to be able to simply go home, and would be outraged if he knew she was even thinking about it. Moreover, she probably just wouldn't be able to bring herself to leave him behind. Not only would she feel bad and constantly be worried that they would somehow catch up to him, but if she was being brutally honest with herself, and she was, Hotch made her feel safe.

And just thinking that made her curse herself once more for being so selfish, and more importantly, sounding so pathetic. But she brushed those thoughts aside as she came to her conclusion. They were just going to have to catch this bastard so that he could get back to his son.

With that thought in mind, she quickly turned off the shower and slipped a towel around her torso while she pulled a pair of jeans and an inconspicuous solid blue V-neck out of her go bag.

Meanwhile, Hotch was sitting at the small kitchen table nursing a steaming cup of black coffee. To any observer, he would have seemed to be a perfectly content, average man, greedily taking in his daily dose of caffeine. But internally, he was struggling, fighting himself as he uncharacteristically tapped his foot against the floor.

He had heard Emily when she had gotten out of bed a few minutes prior, and was currently do everything humanly possible trying to NOT focus on the sound of the running water of the shower. Fighting the image that his mind subliminally conjured up of her, exposed, just a few rooms away. The pattern of uneven splashes of water hitting the floor around her nude ankles, water droplets cascading over her face, trickling down her slim neck and generous chest, hair soaked and tangled as she ran her fingers through it massaging her scalp, skin taught and smooth as the bubbly suds streamed down the length of her toned bod—Stop. Don't go there.

Mentally reprimanding himself for his crude thoughts, he abruptly got up from the table and started puttering around in the kitchen in search of something to take his focus away from the woman in the other room. Having already cleaned up the mess that they had made the previous night before brewing coffee, he opened the fridge to search its contents.

Although he wasn't much of a breakfast eater, and he was almost certain that Emily wasn't either, he figured that she would enjoy the cooked meal. Grabbing the selected fixings, he immersed himself in his task, focusing to keep his mind solely on the food in front of him. So much so, that he didn't even register the fact the shower had stopped running, or that its occupant was standing a mere few feet away from him in the doorway.

"So serious." Emily said in a mock baritone voice as she watched her supervisor stand studiously over the stove.

"Jesus!" Hotch exclaimed, nearly flinging the spatula across the countertop.

"Sorry!" Emily said, stepping closer to him as she stifled her laughter. "I didn't mean to scare you, I didn't realize that you hadn't heard me approach. What were you thinking about anyways?" She asked inquisitively, curious as to what he could have been thinking about that had caused him to be so oblivious to his surroundings.

At her question, he felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment as the images of her showering flashed behind his eyelids once more. Turning back towards the stove so that she didn't notice his flushed cheeks, he turned his attention back towards the now-finished omelet. "Nothing important." He replied, hoping to avoid further embarrassment. Clearing his throat he continued. "I made breakfast. I hope you like ham and cheese omelets."

Studying him with suspicious eyes for a second longer, she let him change the conversation, storing his momentarily strange frazzled expression away for later contemplation.

"I love omelets!" She exclaimed, peering around his shoulder at the food he was dishing up onto two plates.

"Excellent."

"And here I thought I was the only one with hidden culinary talents," she said smirking at him as they sat down, teasing him gently. "Looks like I'm going to have to fight you for cooking rights!"

Chuckling softly, he replied a bit more seriously. "Trust me, the kitchen is all yours. I do like to cook from time to time, but I cant cook a full-fledged meal for Jack when all he really eats is Mac & Cheese, and yet when I'm by myself I don't really feel the need for anything other than simple take out. Cooking is too much of a hassle when you're rarely home long enough to do anything other than sleep, especially when you're cooking for one. "

Nodding her head solemnly, Emily silently slid her hand across the table and rested it atop his, briefly squeezing in a gesture of comfort. She knew that Hotch rarely opened up to anyone, and she was honored that he had chosen to share this with her. No matter how little or seemingly impersonal the information was, she knew that it took a lot for him to say those words. And profiler that she was, underneath the currently thinned mask usually placed heavily on his features, she saw what he was really saying. He was lonely. And that, was something that she herself could understand just fine.

Looking up from his plate at her downcast eyes, his affection for the woman across from his rose another notch. He had always admired her silent strength and her ability to comfort others with such ease. No matter the situation, she always seemed to understand exactly what he was feeling. And she did, he supposed. He wasn't the only one who went home to an empty house each night.

Feeling her hand start to retract, he quickly flipped his over so that it was palm up, and interlaced their fingers. As she lifted her head jerkily, eyes wide in surprise, he gave her a small smile, letting the gratitude, affection, and understanding show in his eyes. As the moment broke, he slipped his hand form hers with a final squeeze and rested it in his lap.

Puzzled by his actions, Emily was confused as to how her boss was acting. Sure, they had clearly gotten more comfortable around each other in the past few days—considerably so—and yet to her, his actions were demonstrating something above and beyond their realm of comfort. Unable to focus on what that meant, Emily Prentiss did what she did best. Compartmentalized. Burying her confusion and minimal amounts of shock at his ability to display emotion that was left over from the many months she had spent thinking that he was stone through and through, she cleared her throat, wanting to bring up the topic of conversation that she knew was coming.

"Hotch—I"

"Don't."

Bewildered by his harsh interruption, she shot a confused and started glance in his direction.

"I know what you're going to say. And I'm telling you; don't. Don't say it, don't think it, don't even feel it. You have no reason to feel guilty about me being here. Even if I thought that it was safe for us to separate, I wouldn't. I wouldn't leave you. We're in this together Emily."

The absolute sincerity and sureness of his voice left no doubt in Emily's mind that what he was saying held true. That, combined with the use of her first name nearly had her eyes burning with emotion.

Hotch recognized that he had used her first name, and he had done so on purpose. While he had been thinking of her as Emily rather than Prentiss more and more, he still tried to limit the use of her first name, no matter how much he enjoyed saying it. And he could tell by the look on her face that the use of her first name now had succeeded in conveying the message that he wanted it to, showing her that he was dead serious about not leaving her.

"But Jack—"

"I know." He interrupted once more, this time more sullenly. "And I know that you know that I hate being apart from him. But as terrible as it sounds, he's used to it. We've been separated for far longer than this. And I know he's safe. If I know the team at all, they've contacted Hailey and are making sure that they stay safe."

Nodding her head shakily, she knew that he was telling the complete truth. But no matter how much he repeated it, she knew that she would keep feeling guilty about dragging him into this situation in the first place.

Seeing that Emily was still somewhat hesitant, Hotch continued, determined to make this see that this was not her fault.

"Emily. Don't you dare feel bad about getting me involved, because you didn't. I'm the one who showed up on your doorstep, remember? And as much as I want to see him, us separating could potentially put him in danger if I were to be with him. There's no place I'd rather be than right here, with you."

Emily was floored at the amount of emotion she could hear in his voice. She just couldn't understand how he could tell exactly what she was thinking. Was she really that easy to read? But despite his sincerity, it was the last part about Jack that really had her starting to be okay with the whole situation. He was right. Him going home could put Jack in danger. They didn't know if Dames had found out who Hotch was, or what he know about him. With this thought, she nodded her ahead again, more surely this time.

"Okay." She said, willing her voice to come out strong and stable. Clearing her throat she continued. "Erhm, speaking of the team, it's about time we called them don't you think?"

Nodding his head agreeable, he responded as they stood up. "Yes I do."

"Maybe we can get Garcia to set up some protected line or something to let you talk to Jack!" She said suddenly, excited about the idea that maybe there was a way they could talk after all. "Or at least you could tell the team to tell Jack something for you."

Eyes lighting up at her idea, he was suddenly very eager to talk to the team. Sitting down in the study side by side, Emily quickly logged on to the computer.

….

Rossi trudged into the office, threw the files he had carried in with him on his desk, and tiredly plopped himself in his comfortable chair. The other members of the team watched as he nearly slammed the door, quite understandably knowing how he felt. None of them had gotten much sleep the night before, if any.

Rossi leaned back in his chair and tiredly ran his hands over his face, stifling a yawn, thinking back to the previous night. He had known that the team was getting too stressed out, and that mixed with overly tired was never a good thing. He had been planning on immediately following Morgan out, who was the last to leave the bullpen, but when he found himself alone at his desk, he couldn't get the images out of his head that had been running endlessly through his mind all evening. When he had sent Garcia to dig up Emily's file regarding her time with the CIA, he had not expected what they were to find to be quite so severe. Without a doubt, they had obtained enough information as to how Emily was involved in the situation to significantly help them with the case. Almost too much. Garcia had gotten both Emily and her ex-partner's full handwritten disclosure on the events that took place during their time in Pakistan. They now not only had a full debriefing of the wrongs of the family, but also of Emily's brief, yet horrific time held hostage. Dave almost wished that the disclosure had included images as well so that maybe the endless possibilities of horrific images that had been running through his mind all night could be put to rest. Almost. Images of a barely conscious, bruised and bleeding Emily had been at a constant slideshow running through his head keeping him awake all night, trying to fill in for what he could only imagine based on her description. Her very detailed description.

Props to Emily for always being so zealous. Always the overachiever, he chuckled humorlessly to himself.

Sighing in defeat, he was about to stand up and make his way down to the bullpen when her heard a soft knock on his door.

"Come in," he said, looking up with minimal interest.

"Hey," JJ said, poking her head in the door before nudging it open wider with her foot. When she had it open all the way, Dave realized why she had struggled to enter so clumsily, and his eyes crinkled in affection. Coffee. Her hands had been full with the cup she outstretched towards him, and her open that she sipped from fervently.

"I thought that you looked like you needed a little pick-me-up. We are all waiting in the conference room when you're ready," she said with a kind smile, turning and retreating out of the small office. Before she once again disappeared behind the door, he called out softly. "Thanks JJ," he said with sincerity. "I'll be down in a minute." Seeing her nod her head in response before turning and shutting the door, he took a long swig of his coffee, and stood up to follow her down to the bullpen.

As he strode into the conference room, the soft half-hearted chatter came to a sullen stop. "Alright, listen up." He began tiredly, but with determination. "I know that we are all still a little bit shaken up from last night. But we can't let it affect our work. We have a long, hard day in front of us, and our team members our counting on us. With that said, Reid and I will continue looking over the files going deeper into Dame's background since we covered the ones of Emily's CIA days yesterday. Morgan, I want you to work on contacting all the local police stations to make sure that he wasn't brought into custody after the explosion. While it's highly unlikely, we need to be sure. JJ, keep doing whatever it is that you do. Just keep the press out of it. Garcia, do whatever you can to track Dames. Once Morgan confirms that he hasn't been arrested, I need you to try to find any trace of him at all."

Nodding their heads in consent, they all took off in their different directions to begin their work separately.

Three hours later, the clock was just nearing midday when they had their first breakthrough. Morgan had indeed confirmed that the police had been unable to find a perpetrator for the explosion, and no one fitting Dame's description had been brought into custody within the past 48 hours. Dave and Reid had sifted through the files, or rather Reid had read them at the speed of light and then thoroughly relayed all the information to Dave, trying to gain more knowledge of the situation to build a profile. With Morgan's help after he had completed his tedious calls to nearby stations, they had come up with a rather solid profile of the man, labeling him as a rage-driven perpetrator most likely suffering a psychotic break, rather than a straight up psychopath. While this pent up rage made him more dangerous and unstable, it would also make the likelihood of him making a mistake, or the chances that he would stand out if someone came in contact with him much greater. While they had made a fairly solid starting block in their investigation, there was still something about the whole thing that seemed a little off to Rossi. And suddenly, he put his finger on it. There was no stressor. In almost all cases where Unsub's had suffered psychotic breaks, there had to be something that set off the whole thing in motion. Yes, with this man, they knew that the rage was long lasting and therefore the stressor had to have taken place a long time ago, but still. In Emily's repot, they had read that Dames had been completely oblivious to what his family was doing, and seemed to want no part of it once he found out. So what made him go from that innocent boy to the man that he has become, blinded by rage to the point of going after Emily?

Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the people in front of him still discussing the profile. When the conversation came to a lull and the three sat in the silence of their own thoughts for a moment contemplating what they had just unearthed, Garcia galloped into the conference room with a wild look on her face. Subconsciously, Reid noted that this was the first time she had emerged from her cave all morning.

"Everyone to the computers, now! Emily just logged on in the chat room!"