Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Mind or House MD. All original characters belong to me. Any similarities to real life persons, in name or description, are strictly coincidental.
12.
The doctors had left, and Emily had fallen asleep soon after. It seemed that both the seizure and LP had tired her out. Hotch had taken the opportunity to say a quick hello to the team before returning back to her room. In the hour she was asleep she hadn't had another seizure, which was great.
And then she awoke, with a dazed look on her face, as if she didn't know where she was. "Hey, Emily," he said softly. She offered him a weak grin. "You know, the rest of the team really wants to see you." Now she frowned.
"No," she said bluntly. "I don't want them to see me like this."
"If you're embarrassed, then don't be." His brows furrowed. "All they want to do is provide you some moral support." Emily snorted, and a hand flew to her side as a sharp pain shot up her torso.
"I don't need moral support," she said with a grimace, "I need to get out of here."
"You need to get better first." Hotch chuckled, but her expression only grew darker.
"The doctors sure didn't sound too optimistic. How do you know I will get better?" The beeps that sounded from the machine that she was hooked up to began to speed up slightly; her blood pressure was rising. "I have abscesses in my brain, and a tube shoved into my side. Do I look like I'm going to get better soon?" Her voice had raised a few decibels, and he was amazed that she was even speaking so clearly, what with the fluid in her lungs that the chest tube was attempting to drain out. But to be honest, her head was throbbing and she felt lightheaded.
"Emily, I-"
"-Hotch, I can't take this anymore." Her voice cracked, and a single sob escaped from between her lips. "I don't want to die. I can't." He felt his stomach do a somersault. Did Emily really think that she was going to die? Was she already giving up? This wasn't at all like her; she wasn't her normal self.
"Emily, you're not going to die. The doctors are going to figure out what's wrong with you."
"You can't promise that!" she exclaimed, and then devolved into a mess of tears. Hotch did the best he could to comfort her, trying to wrap his arms around her without disturbing any of the machinery that was attached. "I haven't done everything I've wanted to…I want a husband, a family..children."
"Emily, I swear to you that you will walk out of this hospital, alive and well. I'm not going to let anyone else close to me leave." Of course, he was still pressing the empty promises, but he had nothing else to say. What could he? That she might possibly be killed by whatever unknown infection was attacking her body? No!
He was Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief. It was his job to keep everyone on track, and as they all knew, he did not stop working even when the UNSUB was caught. He was going to make sure Emily knew that he'd make sure she'd be alright, even if in this case the UNSUB was a disease.
He held her until she regained herself. And then she had seemed embarrassed, only muttering a quiet thanks before she was silent.
At last, Hotch had managed to convince Emily to let the rest of the team visit her. Of course, they had all rushed into the room, ignoring the nurse's complaints that they were over capacity. Rossi, though, did heed the warnings, and he spent just a few minutes in there before he left. Reid quickly followed a few moments later. They did want to be there to support Emily, but neither had much to say. They'd much rather let the others chat it up. Hotch had headed down to the cafeteria for a much-needed cup of coffee while JJ, Garcia, and Morgan stayed in the hospital room.
"My poor chicky!" Garcia had exclaimed as soon as she entered the room. "How are you feeling?"
"The same way I look," joked Emily feebly. She took Hotch's seat, and Morgan and JJ pulled over two more chairs.
"Emily, you always look beautiful," Morgan said with a cocky grin. She shot him a glare.
"Don't try to flatter me, Derek Morgan. Don't tell me I'm beautiful as I lie here in a hospital bed." He held up his hands in surrender.
"Sorry, girl."
"Ignore him, Em," laughed JJ.
"You know, I think a coffee would sound good right about now." Morgan stood and made his way towards the door. "I'll let you three have your girl time.." He slipped out of the room, and immediately Garcia and JJ sprung forward like lions to meat, and JJ asked, "So, what's going on between you and Hotch?"
"What?" The quick reply that Emily provided made her chest ache.
"You know what I'm talking about."
"I really don't, Jayje." She did. There was no doubt that she knew what they were talking about. But, of course, she wasn't about to admit it.
"Hon, I may not be a profiler," chuckled Garcia lightheartedly, "but I know amour when I see it. Hotch is your Romeo, my dear, and don't try to deny that."
"Garcia!" chided Emily, taken aback at the techie's blanket statement. "I don't even know where you came up with that-"
"-Sure you don't, Em," JJ said with a smug grin when she saw the red tint that was beginning to appear on Emily's cheeks.
"You guys..I'm sick. I don't need to be interrogated right now."
"She's got a point," agreed Garcia.
"Thanks, PG." She sighed.
"But, my lovely lady, when you are well, the interrogation will commence once again. And you will realize, if you haven't already, that you and Hotch share more feelings for each other than you realize."
It was amusing to see how quickly Emily's emotions changed. This Hotch noticed as he stood outside her hospital room, looking in through the glass doors as she chatted with her fellow female teammates. She didn't look like the woman that had been sobbing in his arms barely an hour before. Now, even in her sickness, she looked happy. She was glowing. What could Garcia and JJ possibly be saying to her to make her look like that?
"Maybe if you had spent more time diagnosing instead of prying into your patient's personal life, you could've had this case solved already." Cuddy leaned against her desk, reprimanding House, who sat in an armchair.
"Patient history is important," he countered, arching a brow, daring Cuddy to figure out a comeback. With a sigh, the dean of medicine turned to her desk and flipped open Emily's patient file.
"Agent Prentiss has had a few concussions, stitches, et cetera. But none of this would contribute to an infection, House!"
"She was taken hostage in a cult, been in a car accident because of a murderer. You don't find any of that interesting?"
"No, I find it sad."
"That's boring." He crossed his arms. "I tried to get Thirteen to go home."
"She didn't want to. She doesn't have to. It's her choice."
"She was almost killed."
"You don't find that interesting as well?" she huffed, slamming down the file on the table before she took a seat at her desk.
"Well, no." He grimaced in sympathy for his employee, an action he rarely did. "Who knows what else was on that knife. Let's hope nothing got in through the wound…" He trailed off, his eyes glazed over.
"I'm sure she'll be fine." Cuddy crossed her arms. "House, get back to work. I don't want an FBI agent dying on me; it won't look good for the hospital." He stood up, quickly hobbling towards the double doors. Cuddy was surprised he was actually listening for once.
"You won't have to worry about that," he called back as he opened the door to make an exit. "I know what's wrong with her."
Author's Note: A whole mixture of emotions in this chapter, eh? I tried to incorporate a little bit of humor into this story, because so many of my others are extremely dark. I apologize for the late update; I had to finish up school and finals before I could focus on my writing. Thanks for being so patient, and for reading and reviewing. Don't forget to tell me what you thought of this chapter as well. There's only going to be a chapter or two more until this story is finished up.
