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Fear of flying chapter 11.
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Hotch had really enjoyed laying by Emily as she slept, he hadn't felt like going back to sleep himself so instead he lay and watched her as best he could considering she was pressed against him. Her breathing had remained slow and even, though her face continued to be pale and she wore a slightly less than relaxed expression. He wondered if she was uncomfortable or was still aware of feeling nauseous in her sleep. He remembered curling up with her in her apartment, and sleeping naked, something he had never done with anyone else. Even with Hayley he had always got up and put on a pair of shorts. It was as if after years of erecting barriers between them purposefully once they had decided to put them aside they didn't want anything between them again. He remembered how soft and relaxed she had been in his arms, that even after everything they'd done to or with each other as she slept she seemed to hardly have a hair out of place. He inhaled the scent of her hair again furtively, wondering if she might slap him away for being such a sap. He considered everything that was about to happen in their lives, everything would be swept up and changed but he knew that over the next few months as things fell into place they would stop feeling the stress of change and start seeing all the positives. He wished they could stay here, holed up in this hotel room for just another day or two. It was like a bubble, protecting them from the realities they would have to face going forward. All that mattered in this room was each other and their baby, he hoped that was something they could carry with them as they reconnected with the team later today. He knew that Morgan knew everything, and although they'd had their moments he wasn't indiscreet. Hotch was fairly sure Rossi knew too. The older profiler was probably one of the more intuitive of the group when it came to Emily, and himself, and he now understood why. She had needed to confide in someone when they looked into Matthew Benton's death and Rossi had been the only one with enough sense to take her to one side and give her the space and time to do it. He wished it had been him. And again Morgan had swooped in and been there for her when he wasn't. He promised himself that wouldn't happen again.
Realising he would soon have to wake her he decided to try moving gently to lighten her sleep. He reached down to touch the skin on her hand, it was cool under his touch, as he rubbed her hand gently he felt the motion sickness wristbands and wondered where she had got them from. They had helped Hayley, but he was trying very hard not to vocalise things like that, he didn't think late-ex wife comparisons would go down at all well. And they were so different any comparison was meaningless, but Hayley was his only real point of reference in terms of relationships or pregnancy.
He leant forward and stroked her cheek them planted a gentle kiss on it. She sighed and opened her eyes straight away, looking up to meet his she gave him a half smile.
"Hey." he whispered.
She buried her face in his chest for a moment, "What time is it?" she whispered hoarsely.
"It's almost 8am, you have time for a shower before I take you to the clinic for nine." he told her.
"You're organising my schedule?"
He shrugged slightly, "Our schedule. I'm coming with you. I don't mean to push you but I don't think you should be driving alone anyway."
"It's OK," she assured him, "I don't want to drive. I have a headache, still feeling like I could throw up, I certainly am not going to argue with you."
Hotch couldn't help himself, "Now there's a first." he laughed.
"ha ha." she said dryly, pulling herself up off the bed. She gratefully accepted his outstretched hand to steady herself as she felt the effects of having been laid down for most of the last twenty four hours and of having kept little down for going on three days.
She made her way to the shower, pausing to take a drink from a fresh bottle of water and feeling somewhat like a shuffling elderly lady, turned it on and half closed the bathroom door while she waited for the water to run warm enough to get into. She removed her clothes hidden behind the door, she firmly believed there was no attractive way to shed pants and wasn't ready for Hotch to be able to see her stumbling around with them caught around her ankles. Once she could see an acceptable level of steam rising from the shower's stream she stepped in and was pleasantly surprised by how forceful and warm the jet was. She placed one hand flat against the cream tiles to support herself while she allowed the water stream the run over her head with her eyes closed. She fell like hell. Her head was pounding, dehydration she didn't doubt, she was so tired she could hardly keep herself upright and she felt like she had to concentrate to stop herself throwing up again. So these are the amazing joys of pregnancy she heard so much about? She honestly wondered how the human race continued, why would you choose to feel this way? She understood why her mother had only had one child.
She rinsed her hair quicker than usual, the floral smell of her shampoo stuck in her throat and made her feel like retching, but she was able to stop herself and get out of the shower without incident. Wrapping a thick towel around herself she rung her hair out to remove the excess water and smell of the shampoo and then reentered the bedroom to find some clothes acceptable for the day. She didn't think joggers and a t-shirt would work for joining the team on the jet home, though it was all she felt like wearing. Glancing across at Hotch she saw he had changed into jeans and a shirt and she decided to take his lead and retrieved a pair of jeans and looser fitting top than she would normally go for, making sure it had long sleeves to cover firstly the wristbands and secondly the bruises that were developing from the first set of blood tests.
"I called ahead, they can see you first thing." he told her as she switched off the hairdryer and looked around to find a tie to pull her hair back into a ponytail.
"Thanks." she replied, "What time is wheels up? Are we going to be cutting it fine?"
He shook his head, "No, it should be fine we're scheduled to leave around 2pm, so we don't need to leave here until around 1pm. How long do the results take for the blood tests?"
"Around half an hour." she replied, still searching.
Hotch gently touched her arm to get her attention, "Hey, you OK?"
She sighed and leaned into him, he was surprised and hesitated slightly before bringing his hands up, resting one on her shoulder and stroking her hair with the other.
"What's wrong?" he asked gently.
"Nothing," she answered, "just feeling sorry for myself." she admitted, sinking closer into him.
He sighed, "Sorry you're feeling like this." He felt her stiffen and inhale a sharp breath, "You OK?"
She shook her head as she pressed the back of her hand to her lips. He gently turned her in his grasp and half guided, half carried her to the bathroom where he just about managed to position her over the sink before she started retching. He swept her hair out the way as best he could as he balanced her weight against his thigh and supported her with the other hand.
"Aaron…" she muttered between retches.
He looked up from the spot on the back of her neck that he had been concentrating on to see her reflection in the mirror in front of them. glancing down into the sink he saw what little she had firstly got down and then managed to throw up was streaked with blood. He watched her close her eyes and try to slow to breathing as the heaving subsided, he let her hair free and rinsed the sink with warm water.
"I'm sure its nothing to worry about, you just need something to get on top of this." he said quietly.
"I need to sit down." she whispered, he had jammed her in to support her and now she couldn't get out.
He eased her away from the sink and helped her back into the bedroom, where he instructed her, "Lay down."
She did as instructed, "Sorry for being so pathetic." she said.
He laid a kiss on her forehead gently, "You're not. It will pass, I'm sure it just doesn't feel like it right now. Take a few minutes then we'll set off, OK?"
She nodded and did as instructed.
They passed through the sliding doors together, Emily virtually tucked under his arm with her hand looped round his waste for support. He deposited her on the chairs opposite reception as he spoke to the receptionist he knew was expecting them. He kept glancing back at her to make sure she had managed to stay upright, he didn't think he'd ever seen anyone be so sick just from being pregnant, or so quickly. She had gone from being tired and nauseous on the plane to exhausted and vomiting blood in a couple of days. He didn't want to see what would happen without medical attention for another day.
Sitting back next to her he was surprised when she leaned in and rested her head on his shoulder. He knew she really must be feeling sick if she had not thought or cared about who might see them. Not that it was his primary concern either, he had left her hotel room with her and brought her here without caring if the rest of the team saw them. He assumed they'd all drawn their own conclusions by now anyway.
After a short waiting a doctor motioned them into an examination room. He watched Emily's movements as they followed, her usually impeccable posture was slouched and she walked slowly & deliberately. She didn't hesitate to slide up onto the examination table, Hotch took his position by her side as the doctor faced them.
"Miss Prentiss, thanks for coming back in," he said as he leafed through the paperwork then glanced up and put it to one side, "I don't really need bloodwork to see whether you've been able to keep anything down do I?"
She shook her head, "Nope."
"She vomited blood this morning." Hotch piped in. He ignored the threatening stare Emily shot him.
If the doctor was surprised or alarmed he didn't show it, "You probably have a little trauma to your throat, it's not unusual. Look, you're quite early on but I can guess that you're going to need treatment."
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"Finding the right drugs to treat extreme pregnancy sickness can be a long process of trial and error. You need hospitalisation, fluids and some time to stabilise on the right meds." he told her.
She shook her head, "No, I can't do that, I have to fly back to DC today."
"You'll be putting yourself at risk if you do that." he answered bluntly.
"It's only a short flight I can see my primary care doc when I get home." she countered.
"I can't force you to get admitted, but you're risking your health."
"What about the baby?" Hotch asked, "How is it affected?"
"The baby will take what it needs from you short term, but long term can't thrive if your body is under so much stress." he addressed his answer directly to Prentiss.
"Can't you give me something short acting to get me home? I can't be admitted here." she almost begged.
He pursed his lips, "I'm not prepared to give you anti-sickness meds but I'll take your bloodwork again for you to pass on to your primary physician, and I'll give you an IV fluid bolus over an hour to improve your hydration for today. But you must see a doctor when you get home."
"She will." Hotch promised.
They spent the next two hours sitting around waiting for blood work and then waiting for the fluid to go through. The doctor informed them he was giving her dextrose so she'd get hydrated and get a few calories, she'd feel better for a couple of hours but it wouldn't last, she'd probably crash and burn mid-afternoon. He reiterated another five times that she would be better off being admitted for fluids, medication and observation. She steadfastly refused overtime. Eventually he seemed to give in, Hotch had to admire his determination he had been in the position of arguing with Emily Prentiss several times and it was never something he relished, and rarely something he'd walked away from unscathed. He realised how much this was taking out of her if she hadn't fended him off enough to discourage him from trying again.
When all the procedures were finished she was left with two new venepuncture marks on each arm and an already sizeable bruise on the back of her left hand. Since she was dehydrated her veins had been difficult to cannulate, Hotch couldn't think of anyway she as going to be able to hide the marks on her hand short of wearing gloves, and everyone on the time knew what needle puncture marks looked like. They were either going to have to think of a better cover story or tell the truth. He wondered which was the better option. Prentiss took a folder full of test results and records to pass on to her doctor. Hotch so desperately wished he had forced her to stay at home, he knew she wasn't herself before they boarded the plane, he shouldn't have allowed her to come along. If she'd stayed in DC she would be getting proper treatment right now instead of dragging herself onto a flight where they had put themselves in the position of having to keep up appearances for the duration.
As they walked back to the SUV Hotch felt she walked a little easier, she looked less like she was about collapse and more just like someone suffering from lack of sleep. He waited for her to be done with the seat belt before pulling away.
"Do you feel any better?" he asked.
"You're not going to chew me out for refusing hospital?" she countered.
He pursed his lips, "No," he said carefully, "there's no extra risk to the baby, you'll be seeing a doctor as soon as we get back to DC, you're the best judge of whether you can handle the flight."
"I'll be fine, motion actually seems to make me feel a little better."
He raised his eyebrows, "Really? Maybe it's me that makes you throw up then because you were sick on the plane out, and with me driving the SUV."
"Huh," she mused, "yeah I forgot. OK , today it helps. Yesterday the wristbands worked."
He held onto the silence for a moment then said, "Everyone will be up and around when we get back."
She nodded, "What do you want to tell them?" she asked.
"I don't know. I don't want to lie, but I think we could both do without the press of everyone wanting us the set everything in stone when we haven't."
"That's reasonable. Just stick with checking I'm OK to fly after being sick then?" she suggested.
"As long as that's OK with you."
She nodded her consent and they rounded into the parking lot. Taking a deep breath she snatched up the envelope and tried to hide it in her bag as best she could, the last she needed was to do something as klutzy as drop the contents for the rest of the team to read. She was surprised when once again Hotch rounded the car and open her door for her.
"When did you become such a gentleman?" she asked
He laughed lightly, "I'm not really such a hard-ass. I work very hard to maintain that reputation."
She couldn't help but peer around to see if anyone was around as they crossed into the reception, she saw Hotch doing the same.
"They're all in the restaurant." he told her having covered the opposite direction to her.
"I don't think I'm up for that," she admitted, "The smells…"
He nodded his understanding, "Go pack up and I'll come up and bring the bags down after I've spoken to the team."
He watched her nod and as she turned to walk in the opposite direction found he had to check himself to stop him reaching to give her a reassuring kiss on the forehead.
As he entered the restaurant Hotch had the unnerving feeling that he was entering the lions den. Reid, Rossi, Garcia and Morgan were all sitting together nursing coffees and pretending not to notice or not to be interested in his approach.
"Morning." he said casually, sliding into a spare seat beside Rossi.
"How's Emily?" Rossi asked without preamble.
Hotch chose his words carefully, "She's OK to fly today, the doctor I took her to wants her to get checked out again back in DC, so I'm going to make sure she does that." he switched his gave across to Morgan, hoping that he would understand the gentle suggestion he should back off and allow Hotch to be around more. He watched Morgan nod in response.
"Is she OK though?" Reid asked, it was clear that he lacked the general insight into his co-workers that had led both Morgan and Rossi to draw the correct conclusion about why she was sick. He was probably afraid she had something fatal. Hotch wondered what Garcia was thinking, it was unlike her to keep her opinions or questions to herself unless there was a good reason. Knowing that your friend was sleeping with her boss was probably as good a reason as any to check out of the discussion and he briefly wondered if Emily had confided in her, or if Garcia had already worked enough tech magic to hack into her records from the clinic. He also knew she would probably have very little problem getting information out of Morgan if she wanted to.
"She mainly needs to rest and give herself time to get over it." Hotch assured him. It wasn't an out and out lie. She did need to rest, and she would get over it, eventually. "Good work yesterday guys. Is there anything left to tie up or are we cleared to leave?"
Garcia spoke for the first time, "All free and clear, sir."
He nodded thoughtfully, "Thanks, I'm going to go check on Prentiss and bring her and her bags down, will we all be ready to leave in fifteen?" He watched as they all nodded in response then turned on his heel and headed back up to the now familiar room he had shared with Emily for the last 24 hours. He wondered what his team thought of him. Had he, in their view, become the stereotypical boss who seduces female agents working alongside him? He hoped they knew him well enough to know that he had a huge mouth of respect for Emily Prentiss and would never deliberately treat her that way.
When he walked through the door of the room Emily looked up startled, she was on the phone and held out a finger in an effort to urge him to stay silent.
"OK, thank you, yes I'll be in to see you tomorrow." he heard her finish before she hung up the phone, "sorry." she said to him.
He raised his eyes at her in silent questioning.
"Strauss," she explained, "to ask about transfer."
He was surprised, "Already? You that sure you want to do this?"
She nodded emphatically, "And I need to sort it out before it becomes more obvious that I'm pregnant and people start asking questions. I don't want to jeopardise your position, or my ability to get a transfer, I need my feet under the table before I disclose I'm pregnant."
He nodded, "If there's anything you want me to do, just let me know. Where are you thinking of?"
She chewed her lip, "Counter terrorism. They always need translators and its safe, office based and in DC."
Hotch eased himself down next to her, examining her with his eyes, "Are you sure its enough for you? Won't you be bored?"
She shrugged, "There's still profiling involved and maybe a bit of boring is exactly what I need."
He placed a kiss on her forehead, "Maybe I'll just have to keep you amused at home then."