"I'm sorry, Agent Hotchner. Your request is denied."
That was it. His best chance to be with Emily was gone. He was going to have to stay in Seattle.
Now what?
/
It was a long flight to Connecticut. Or at least it felt like a long flight. Not that he remembered any of it.
His mind was elsewhere. Occupied with finding a solution. But no matter how hard he thought, none came – at least none that would be viable.
/
He slowly walked, no trudged, along the path to Emily's dorm. He didn't look at the architecture. He didn't look at the grounds. He was still lost in a bleak future.
He stood before the door to her dorm room. He didn't knock immediately. As bad as it was right now, the future was still in flux. It was not yet real. Once he knocked, she would answer, and he would have to tell her. Then it would be real. He wanted one more moment.
Steeling himself for what was to come, he raised his hand and knocked on the door. A few moments passed. They passed slowly. He heard movement inside the room. The door opened and she was there in all her beauty. The emotions on her face went from curious, to confused, to elated.
She was not expecting him. This was a wonderful surprise.
"Aaron, oh my god, what are you doing here? This is wonderful."
/
She rushes into his arms and kisses him. He doesn't move, he doesn't react to her. He stands there like a silent statue.
She notices his lack of reaction; she pulls back confusion all over face, "Aaron, what's wrong?"
His voice is grave. "Can I come in?"
"Yeah. Of course." She moves out of the way. What is going on?
He walks into the room. His posture is stiff, rigid. "Aaron, what's wrong? You're scaring me."
He takes a deep breath, "They denied my transfer. I have to stay in Seattle."
A cold realization sinks into her chest, "Oh. … Is there anything you can do? Can you apply again later?"
"There's nothing I can do. Applying later won't do any good. I'm stuck in Seattle for the foreseeable future."
"Oh. … What now?"
"I don't know. I've been going round and round since they told me. I spent the whole flight trying to come up with the next move."
"What did you come up with?"
"Not much. I could quit."
"I wouldn't want you to do that."
Hotch nods, "You can't leave school. So that means we're stuck on opposite ends of the United States for at least a year."
"Sounds like a great time."
"I know, right? The way I see it we have two options."
"We break up."
Hotch nods sadly.
She continues, "Or we stay together like we have and hope for the best."
"Yeah." He wanders over to the bed and plops down. He puts his head in his hands and sighs.
/
He looked lost and alone, Emily thought. "Aaron." Fear crept into her voice. "What do you want to do?"
"I want … to stay together. To grow old with you, or possibly never grow old with you, although that seems unlikely. I just don't know if it matters what I want."
She slowly approached him and ran her hands through his hair. She leaned her body over his. "Of course it matters what you want." He put his arms around her and pulled her in closer.
Silence filled the room as they held each other. Whatever the future held for them, they would have this moment – this moment when their love was enough. This moment when the future was beatable. And they were invincible.
He broke the silence in a small voice that didn't carry through the cramped room. "I can't lose you. No matter what else, I can't lose you."
"Then you won't. The rest, we'll figure out."
"Tomorrow. Let's face the future tomorrow." He pulled her onto the bed. He didn't want to talk, tonight was about finding a way back to each other.
He couldn't stay; he had to get back the next day.
They had a moment at the airport. It was a moment out of a movie. The lovers part with a promise to always be true. A final kiss before he boards the plane.
The lovers part, and hope fills their hearts, but a thread of fear lies underneath.
/
The hope doesn't last long.
A few months later she's standing in front of his house.
He opens the door. He's not happy to see her. He knows what this visit is. "Come in." He turns around and walks over to a bottle. He pours two glasses. He hands one to her. "Wakes should have a never-ending supply of booze."
She chuckles ruefully. She raises her glass. "To a hell of a run."
"To a hell of a run."
She walks over to the record player and goes through the sack of LPs. She finds the one she is looking for and puts it on the turntable. She lets the music play; it washes over her. She closes her eyes and remembers.
She doesn't let herself get lost in the music. She turns and walks over to him. "Dance with me, Aaron. One last time."
They don't sing. This is not a celebration. The air is thick with emotion. They can't look at each other.
The song ends.
He pulls her towards the bedroom.
One last night.