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Emily couldn't sleep. Though not through lacking of trying. She had gone to bed early but tossed and turned for hours, unable to find a comfortable position. Staring at the ceiling and thinking happy thoughts hadn't helped. Sighing in defeat, Emily sat up and threw back the covers, burying her furry sleeping companion. Keeping the lights off, she slipped her feet into her slippers, pulled the robe up over her arm, and draped the other side over her bad shoulder. Before heading downstairs she retrieved the gun from under the pillow.

The house was dark and deathly silent as she and her black shadow descended the stairs. In the kitchen Emily poured herself a small glass of wine. Glass in hand, she went out onto the front porch and leaned against a pillar, gazing out over the slumbering neighborhood softly lit by the streetlights. Taking a sip of the wine, she let her eyes drift up to the cloudless sky filled with pinpricks of twinkling distant stars.

The events of the last two days had left Emily emotionally drained and mentally exhausted. One benefit of not being able to fall asleep was that there were no nightmares to be frightened of. Her mother's visit hadn't resolved any of the issues between them. It had only left her more confused. Talking to Dave about it had helped a little but it hadn't prevented the downhill spiral that had culminated in her pulling her weapon on him. Maybe the bottomless pit that was her life for the past year actually had a bottom and she had slammed face first into it.

Emily took another sip then set the glass down so that she could pull the robe tighter around her body to ward off the nighttime chill. She had wallowed in the pain of her freefall for a while; then Dave reappeared, offered her his hand, and pulled her to her feet. Their second talk had showed her that it was possible to climb out of the pit she was in and that the team would be there rooting for her the whole way up.

The talk with Derek this afternoon had eased some of the burden weighing heavily on her heart. She had hoped she had relieved him of the guilt he had felt for not saving her in time. Her guilt, on the other hand, for what she had put him through had not diminished. It was an emotional scar that would be with her for the rest of her life. The conversation had been difficult for both of them but they got through it. For her it was a step forward in repairing her relationship with Derek that one day he would trust her enough to be her partner again.

The hooting of an owl broke through the tranquility of the neighborhood. Emily downed the rest of the wine and felt its warmth flow through her body. She yawned; suddenly feeling tired, and decided to take another stab at sleeping. Before heading back to bed Emily took one last look at the starry night. Could it be possible that all of this was a sign that there was a light at the end of the tunnel and things were starting to turn around for her?

Emily wasn't the only one in the house who couldn't sleep. Dave lay in his bed, hands behind his head, gazing out the window. He heard her get up and go downstairs. He resisted the urge to go check on her, knowing it would only annoy her and make her feel like a ten year old. Instead he rolled over on his side.

When Derek had brought Emily home six hours later he could see the change in her demeanor. She was still quiet but she was no longer brooding and hiding out in her head. Something major had happened between them and it had a positive effect on their friendship. Dave didn't pry, figuring Emily would tell him if she wanted to, and he doubted she would. Emily fiercely protected her privacy.

He stayed awake until he heard her limping footsteps on the stairs and the soft click of her bedroom door closing. Now that she had safely returned Dave let himself drift off. His last thought was that over the past five weeks Emily had made a lot of progress both physically and mentally. Maybe now she was ready for the next phase in her recovery.

Dave knocked on the open door of Hotch's office. "Aaron, do you have a minute?"

Hotch looked up from the case file he was reviewing. "Sure," he said, pushing the folder to one side and gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk.

The older man settled into one. He rested an ankle on one knee and folded his hand over his stomach. "I want to talk to you about Emily."

"What about Prentiss?" he asked with a puzzled look. "Is there something wrong with her?"

Dave waved a dismissive hand. "She's fine. I was thinking it was time for Emily to return to work."

Hotch frowned as he glanced over the surface of his desk and at the various piles of files. "Has she fully recovered from her injuries? I haven't received any paperwork from her doctor clearing her for duty."

"No. The last time she went to the doctor she was told it would probably be another month for the collarbone to heal. But she is seeing Dr. Barrett later this week so that diagnosis may change."

Hotch held out his hands in surrender. "Until I get those reports there is nothing I can do, Dave. Prentiss will just have to wait the extra month."

Dave let out a snort of disgust. "So you're telling me because of her slow-healing collarbone Emily can't return to work." Hotch nodded in agreement. "Yet when Reid was shot in the knee we hauled him all over the country, first on crutches and then with a cane. Doesn't seem very fair to me."

"I agree," he said, "and as much as I want Prentiss here my hands are tied. What brought this on, Dave? Has she been asking you about it?"

"No," the older profiler said with a shake of his head. "Emily hasn't mentioned it. It's my idea."

Hotch folded his hands on top of the desk blotter. "Why do you think she's ready to come back?"

Dave dropped his foot to the floor so that he could lean forward. "Emily's been making a lot of progress over the last five weeks. Yes, there has been a few bumps in the road but that was to be expected," he said, correctly anticipating the Unit Chief's next question.

"She is starting to reconnect with the team on a personal level. I believe it is time for her to reconnect with them on a professional level. It would be good for all parties involved and speed up Emily's emotional recovery. She's been isolated from her family for almost seven months: first in Bethesda, then in Paris, and finally at my place. It's time for her to resume her life."

Hotch leaned back in his chair, carefully contemplating Dave's proposal. All of his points had some validity. He sighed and asked, "What do you want me to do, Dave?"

"It's simple, Aaron. Talk to her doctor and physical therapist and see if they are willing to sign off on Emily returning to restrictive duty. I admit she is nowhere ready to return to the field, but flying a desk for awhile will give her time to acclimated to the BAU, her job and the team."

"Okay, Dave. I'll give it a try but I can't guarantee anything," he said with an arch of an eyebrow.

Dave smiled. "Works for me."

Mudgie let out a sharp bark of frustration when the other dog got to the tennis ball first and ran off. The Lab barked a second time and took off after him, intent on getting his ball back. Emily laughed at him from her spot on the bench. A Golden Retriever, by the name of Moses, had joined their game of fetch. Moses drove Mudgie nuts because he actually waited for Emily to throw the ball so he always got it. They would playfully tussle over it and eventually the Lab would trot back triumphantly with the ball in his mouth.

The last couple of days had been good to Emily. There had been no minor traumas, no major headaches, though her mother had called once which had surprised her. She had been sure that the Ambassador would renege on her promise. Emily had ended up sitting on her bed staring at the ringing phone in her hand. She couldn't make herself answer it and it eventually rolled over to voicemail. She then deleted the message without listening to it. It was nice to see that her mother was making a small effort to stay in contact but it was too soon for Emily. She needed more time to sort through her feelings.

This week's visit to the doctor had gone better than she had thought it would. Emily was finally able to trade in the stiff and heavy brace she had been wearing on her wrist and hand for the past two months for one that was lightweight and flexible. The splints on her two fingers had also been taken off and the first thing Emily did was to scratch the itch that had been plaguing her for weeks. The only setback was that her collarbone was taking its grand old time knitting itself back together. That meant she was stuck wearing the sling for another two to four weeks.

Mudgie had just deposited the ball in her lap when she heard someone shouting out her name. Emily looked over her shoulder to see Jack Hotchner barreling towards her.

"Em'ly!" he shouted again, scrambling up on the bench and wrapping his arms around her neck.

"Hey, Jack," she greeted him in surprise, giving the boy a one arm hug. "How did you get here?'

"Daddy brought me," he answered somewhat distractedly, his curious eyes now focused on the two dogs sitting at attention, waiting impatiently for the game of fetch to be resumed.

"Hi, Emily," Hotch said, coming to a stop next to bench. Instead of his stiff, unyielding suits he was dressed in a navy polo shirt and casual khaki pants. Emily knew she could count on one hand the number of times she had seen him without a tie.

Emily smiled at her boss. "Hi, Hotch. So what brings you out here?"

He returned the smile. "I wanted to talk with you and Dave said I would find you here. I had also promised Jack to take him to the park so I decided to kill two birds with one stone."

Jack frowned up at his father from Emily's lap. "Why do you want to kill two birds, Daddy?"

Hotch and Emily chuckled. "I don't, Buddy. It's just an expression that I can get two things done at the same place." He tousled his son's hair.

"Oh, okay," Jack said, looking back at the dogs.

Emily picked up the tennis ball and held it out to the boy. "Hey, Sport, why don't you go play fetch with Moses and Mudgie while your daddy and I talk."

"Okay," he agreed, taking the ball and sliding off her lap. He gazed at the two dogs. "Come on, guys," he said and ran off. Moses and Mudgie looked at each other then took off after the little boy. Moments later a giggling Jack disappeared under a pile of yellow and black fur.

Emily scooted over on the bench so that Hotch could sit down. He watched his son play with the dogs. "Jack really loves that book you gave him. He has his nose buried in it every day."

She smiled and brushed her hair away from her face. "I was hoping he would. I could tell from the way he was acting at the zoo that he loves animals." Emily had asked Dave to see if Garcia could wrap the book and then deliver it to Hotch. She had wanted the present to look nice and if she had attempted to wrap it one handed it would have looked like a disaster zone.

"He really does. Jack wanted to call you several times and tell you about the animals he's read up on. I've managed to hold him off because I wasn't sure if you wanted to receive those kinds of phone calls."

"I don't mind at all, Hotch. I like listening to him talk." Emily frowned slightly. "Speaking of talking, what did you want to discuss with me?"

"I have a proposal for you," he informed her.

"Gee, Hotch, don't you think we should go out on a couple of dates first before you propose marriage to me?" she asked with a straight face.

The corner of his mouth curled into a smile. "I see that your wry sense of humor is returning, smartass."

Emily chuckled and waved her hand at him. "Sorry, Hotch. I couldn't resist. Please go on."

Hotch paused to collect his thoughts. "I've received the paperwork from your doctor and physical therapist clearing you for restrictive duty."

Emily blinked in surprise. That was the last thing she had expected to come out of Hotch's mouth. She had been so focused on trying to survive her trauma that she hadn't given much thought to when she would return to work. She just knew at some point she would. "Wow," was all she could get out.

"Do you think you're ready to come back?" he asked.

"Ummm…" she said, licking her lips. "When would I start?"

"Monday," Hotch said. "But before you say anything there are a few limitations. You have not been cleared for field duty so basically you'll be riding a desk doing consults and reexamining cold cases."

She nodded wordlessly so Hotch continued. "And you will have to attend mandatory counseling sessions with the bureau's psychologist in addition to your physical therapy."

"I understand," she said.

Hotch turned his eyes on her and they softened. "Even though you can't travel with the team I want you to be actively involved in the case from start to finish. You can do it from Garcia's lair or you can set up your own murder board in the conference room. We want to have the ability to pick your brain. Some of our past cases took longer to solve because we were lacking your perceptive insight."

Emily was a little embarrassed by his words but she knew he was simply telling her as he saw it. "I can do that."

He smiled. "Good. There is one more thing."

A guarded look came over her face. "What is it?" she asked warily.

Hotch grew serious. "I want you to make a deal with me, Emily. Please do not push yourself just to prove you're fit for duty. I want you to take your time, work a schedule that fits you until you've adjusted to being back. If that means coming in later or leaving early then do it."

"Okay."

"And I know you're still going to have bad days." Emily bristled at his words and opened her mouth to protest but he stopped her. "Dave hasn't told me anything; he's been protecting your right to privacy. I'm simply speaking from experience. My assault at the hands of Foyet differs from yours but I've been in your headspace. All I am asking of you is to tell me when you're having a bad day."

Emily looked at him in suspicion. "That's it? You don't want me to talk about it?"

Hotch shrugged. "Only if you want to and I highly doubt you would. Otherwise that's it. Deal?"

Emily nodded her head. "Deal."

Yay! Looks like Emily has turned the corner and is returning to work. Sad to say the story is winding down and coming to a conclusion. Now to sound like a broken record; don't forget to tell me what you think. Until next week then.