Hotch was watching the nurse, and out of the corner of the eye he saw Emily tense up.

She looked incredibly vulnerable, laying on her back on the table with her hands balled into fists as they clutched the hem of her shirt. He saw the alarm in her eyes just before she squeezed them shut, and took a shuddering breath.

"Hey," he said gently, sitting in the chair that was next to the table as he gently pulled one of her hands away from her shirt and held it in his own, "It's okay," he whispered softly so that the doctor couldn't hear. "I understand, Emily. You know I understand better than anyone."

"Hotch," she said weakly as a tear escaped from the corner of her eye, "I can't-"

"Shh," he said, gently wiping the tear from her face as the doctor turned around. "It's okay."

Emily's hand slowly lifted the shirt just to the point where she knew the scar began, about two inches above her navel, keeping it completely covered.

The doctor placed the device on Emily's skin and she shuddered slightly at the contact with the cool gel. There was no sound, so the woman slid it slightly to the left. Still nothing.

The woman reached out and pushed Emily's sweater up. Then her eyes widened.

Emily made a sound that resembled a yelp as her hand automatically moved to cover the long, thick scar. Hotch glared at the doctor.

"My, that might be the largest scar I've ever seen," the doctor commented nonchalantly. She moved the device again and the soft thumping of a heartbeat filled the room.

About three seconds later, Emily was standing up and pulling her shirt down and ignoring the doctor's pleas for her to get back on the table.

"I have to go," Emily kept repeating.

After it became apparent that she wasn't going to listen to the woman, Dr. Chang turned to Hotch.

"Sir, please -"

"If she wants to go, we're going," he said sternly, giving her a death glare.

"Sir, could you please step out for one minute? I need to have a word with your wife -"

"No, I'm not leaving. If you're going to say something, say it in front of me -"

"Did he do that to you?" the doctor was asking Emily. "You can call the police, and -"

"What?! No! He didn't!" Emily was saying defensively, tears still streaking her cheeks. "Fuck off and mind your own business!"

"Ma'am, please calm down -"

"Go to hell," Emily commented as she opened the door to go into the hallway. Hotch followed with his arm around her waist.

"Come back -"

Her voice was cut off by the sound of the door slamming. As they walked out of the hallway back into the waiting room, the secretary called, "Ma'am, did you want to schedule your next appoint-"

"We're not interested, thank you," Hotch said, glaring at the woman behind the desk, who appeared confused.

Slamming the door to the SUV, Hotch realized this was the angriest he had been in ages. How dare that woman - the audacity - she thought I was hurting Emily?!

Meanwhile, Emily was managing not to cry as she sat in the passenger seat, but she was shaking slightly and her face was a deep shade of red.

"I can't believe that that stupid woman - she was looking at us funny the whole time - and she asked you- who the hell does that?" Hotch was ranting.

A small sob from beside him caught his attention.

"Oh, god, Prentiss, are you okay?" he asked, unsure how to comfort her. "Hey, it's alright -"

"I'm so sorry you had to see me like this, Hotch -"

"Don't you be sorry, she should be the one apologizing -"

"That was so embarrassing, I'll never be able to show my face in there again -"

"Then don't go back."

Emily stared at him and blinked once or twice. "Not go back?"

"You don't have to," he said, shrugging. "I sure as hell wouldn't. Do you want me to get you the name of the doctor that Haley used when she was pregnant with Jack? It's at a different clinic. It might be a bit of a further drive, but -"

"You'd do that for me?" she asked weakly.

"Of course," he said immediately.

She sniffled. "Thanks, Hotch."

He pulled away from the clinic and drove towards Emily's apartment to drop her off. After about five minutes of silence, he said quietly, "Prentiss?"

"Yeah?"

"We need to work on our acting skills if we're going to keep pretending to be married," he pointed out gently, hoping she would get the message that he wanted to go with her to her appointments and support her. He knew what it was like to have scars that he preferred to keep private - both literally and metaphorically.

Emily snorted. "Yeah, I guess so."

Three seconds later she added, "Oh, god, Hotch. You don't have to come with me every time. It's just that you were there and she assumed and I thought it'd just be easier to pretend, which I mean obviously that didn't go well, I mean don't feel like you're obliged or anything even remotely close -"

"Prentiss, I don't mind going with you. Unless you don't want me to?"

"No, I mean, if you're willing to come I guess that's okay... I mean, you've seen my..." she gestured towards her rib cage, "It... now, anyway... I'd rather have you there than be alone. Why were you there, anyway?" she asked, confused as though she had just noticed this for the first time.

"Oh, right," he said, reaching into his pocket. "You left your ultrasound picture in the car. I was going to bring it back. Just... because."

"Oh," she said, taking it from him. "Thank you so much, I don't know what I'd have done if I thought I'd lost it. And... thanks for acting with me."

"It's not an issue," he said gently. "Which building is it?" he asked, changing the topic.

"This next one," she said, and he pulled up to the front door.

"Well... thanks again, sir."

"Anytime, Prentiss."

"I'll see you Monday."

"Text me when you get into your apartment."

She looked at him and raised her eyebrows, but didn't question him. Is he being protective of me?

"I will, sir. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

He waited until he received her text ("Safe and sound. See you Monday.") and he pulled out of the parking lot.