Chapter 14: How You Remind Me:It's not like you to say sorry. I was waiting on a different story. This time I'm mistaken. For handing you a heart worth breaking

Aaron glances at the clock on the wall, willing the minutes to go faster. It's as if time moves backwards at work now. An eight hour shift is like watching paint dry; a double would be absolute misery.

Three days have passed since his encounter with Emily on the patio. No matter how many times he tries to push her out of his mind, he overplays every piece of their argument over and over, as if on loop. He's avoiding her - that much he knows, and it's highly likely she's avoiding him too. He hasn't seen her at all since she'd gotten up and left in a fit of rage; she's kept a low profile around the mansion ever since.

With another few hours left to go until the end of his shift, he sighs heavily and sips from the Styrofoam coffee cup in his hand - there isn't enough caffeine in the world to get him through this one. Tonight, he's posted at the mansion's entrance, manning the front grounds and driveway with one of the other agents he's gotten to know fairly well over the last few weeks. Normally he works inside, but they're short staffed tonight. Aaron doesn't mind - being outside means less of a chance of running into Emily, and he doesn't mind working with Shane, who knows when to start a conversation, and when to leave him alone.

"Got any plans after this?" Shane asks, impatiently checking his own watch.

"Not really," Aaron says with a yawn. It's been a long day - and night, considering he hasn't slept much in the last week. "You?"

"Gonna hit up the drive in with my girlfriend," Shane says, half of his attention on the crossword puzzle in front of him. "She's been dying to go. Kinda late for a movie, but they're showing something at midnight so I guess it's a date."

Aaron nods, sipping his black coffee, wishing it were stronger. "Sounds fun."

"Yeah. Figured I'd take her out for once. I don't get out much anymore, you know. With this job and all." Shane chuckles. Aaron stays silent, unsure of where to take the conversation.

"You seein' anyone, Hotchner?"

He stares at Shane, his mouth agape, and the other agent laughs good naturedly.

"It's not a hard question, dude. Either you are or you aren't."

Aaron runs a hand through his hair, his eyes glancing up at the front of the house to where Emily's bedroom is brightly lit, yet the curtains are firmly closed. It's been like that for hours, not that he's been watching. "Nope," he mumbles, checking his watch one more time. Only three more hours to go. "Didn't work out."

As if it ever would have.

"Sorry man. That's never easy. I've been there." Shane shrugs sympathetically, turning back to the crossword puzzle balanced on his knee. "You should come out with us sometime after a shift. I can introduce you to some of my girlfriend's friends."

He's about to politely decline - the idea doesn't sound the slightest bit appealing - when he's temporarily blinded by the headlights of a large, black SUV rolling up the driveway, as if on cue.

The car rolls to a stop in front of the mansion. Out stumbles a girl Aaron recognizes almost instantly. She clearly doesn't want to be recognized though, dressed in all black, and even in the dusk she wears a baseball hat pulled down low over her eyes. The only giveaway is the tell-tale red hair in a low messy bun spilling out from beneath, and the large paper bag tucked under her arm.

Allison.

His stomach twists as she strides towards them purposefully and boldly. Most guests are required to show ID upon arrival to be added to the manifest, yet it's obvious she's been there many times before as she gives them both a nod, seemingly oblivious to the fact they're both armed.

"Hey, Allison," Shane says casually, stepping aside to let her pass. "How've you been?" He clearly knows her, Aaron observes, judging by the small smile that breaks her sullen face.

"Pretty shitty, actually." She pauses, lifting the brim of her cap to reveal swollen eyes. "Remember that guy I told you about?"

"Harvard dude? The baseball player?" Shane appears to be guessing, and it's obvious this is a conversation they've had many times before. Aaron can't help but question if Emily too has had similar conversations with the security team, but he quickly pushes it out of his mind. Don't even go there.

Allison scoffs. "No, not him. He's been long gone. Like way gone. I'm talking about the Georgetown guy. I told you about him, didn't I?"

"Georgetown guy. Oh, right." Shane clearly is out of the loop yet offers a sympathetic look as Allison adjusts the paper bag of what is clearly a bottle of booze under her arm. He says nothing - alcohol technically has to be searched upon arrival - and Aaron follows suit, not wanting to create a scene.

"He sucks," she says pointedly. "I'm done with all of these jerks. They all fucking suck." She wobbles on her feet ever so slightly before righting herself quickly.

Aaron wonders if she's been drinking already as she's waived through the security protocols and the front door is buzzed open.

"Emily's upstairs?" Allison turns over her shoulder to look back at both of them. "She said I could come over."

"She should be," Shane says with a quick check of the log entries. "According to this she hasn't left all night. She's been staying in a lot lately. All the parties catching up with the two of you?"

Aaron swallows uncomfortably as Allison's gaze rests solely on him. "Something like that," she says in a low voice, flashing a knowing look in his direction before she disappears behind the heavy doors without another word.

He realizes he's still staring at the closed door when Shane's voice takes him out of his own head. "Those two, man. I can't keep up with them."

"What do you mean?" He knows exactly what Shane means.

"They're always drinking and partying and who knows what else. They've always been like that. One of these days … they're going to learn the hard way. Maybe more than they already have." Shane has already busied himself with updating the security manifest, unbothered by it all.

Aaron says nothing, taking an even bigger sip of coffee this time, and his eyes linger back to Emily's window as the rest of the night passes in near silence.

…

"You have to admit, Em. "What he did was kind of … noble?" Allison drawls as she passes the fifth of vodka between them. Misery loves company, she joked as she pushed past Emily and set up shop in her bedroom almost two hours ago, waving the full bottle in the air.

At first Emily refused - she needs to stop drinking herself to sleep every night. But she owes her friend, and somehow Allison managed to get Ketel One, so she concedes with a sigh. Soon after that, the bottle is over half empty and the room starts to blend at the edges, their voices starting to slur.

After Allison cries it out for a good hour, the conversation switches to the topic Emily knows she can't avoid.

"It wasn't noble, Allison. It was stupid," Emily says with a sniff, the vodka burning her throat a bit too much for her liking on the way down. "That was probably the worst possible thing he could have done. For so many reasons."

"I saw him on my way in." Allison says what Emily refuses to ask (not that she isn't curious), and she rolls her eyes in annoyance.

"I'm sure you did, Al. He still works here, you know." She takes another drink and chases it down with some warm diet coke, a grimace smearing across her face. Normally vodka doesn't make her this nauseous, but tonight is different for some reason.

"He looked like hell. Almost as bad as you do."

"Uh .. thanks? You don't look too hot yourself, you know." Emily glances down at her oversized sweatshirt and skimpy shorts - when was the last time she changed her clothes? Certainly not today. Her hair is matted and tangled in a pile on top of her head, her face is free of makeup. The bruises are still there; she touches them self-consciously every now and then.

"Have you talked to him at all?"

"Not since the other day." Emily can't hide the disappointment in her voice. "I don't have anything to say to him."

"You? Nothing to say? I don't believe that."

"What am I supposed to say, Allison? Thank you?" It comes out harsher than she anticipated, yet it doesn't faze her friend. "I think not."

"He risked a lot for you. His job, for starters. Can you imagine the shitstorm that would have rained down if it got out that it was him?" Allison lights a cigarette, fumbling with the lighter and reaching for the ashtray. "You'd be up shit's creek without a paddle. You both would."

"Which is exactly why I told him to stay out of it in the first place."

"I know you're too proud to admit it, Em, but he did what should have been done a long time ago."

"Stop," Emily snaps, and yet she's just tipsy enough that the thought of him almost makes her smile. Almost. Instead, she frowns, because all she feels is shame.

"We both know I'm right.""

"I've treated him like shit. I basically told him to fuck off." Emily picks at the frayed hem of her sweatshirt, needing something to do with her hands.

"I don't know why. He's treated you better than any of the other winners you've been with." Allison's brutal honesty is almost refreshing. "What's gotten into you? It's like you don't even care anymore."

Emily sighs. "He promised me he wouldn't tell anyone, Allison. And look what he did."

"Technically, he didn't break your promise, Em. He just … took some matters into his own hands."

Emily scoffs. "I didn't think you'd take his side."

It's Allison's turn to roll her eyes. "I'm not," she says with frustration. "I'm just saying … he clearly cares about you, Emily. Regardless of how he shows it. That's more than you can say about Tom, at least. Or that loser from Italy, if we're keeping track."

Emily laughs and takes another long swig, her mind pleasantly numb. "However much he cares or did care, that ship has probably sailed. I don't think he wants anything to do with me anymore."

"No offense, Em, but I wouldn't want to either after what you said to him. Maybe I'll start checking out the security staff more on my way in. Seems like a good way to find a man." She leans against the wall, a wistful look spreading across her face. "I wish Shane was single."

Emily says nothing, staring at the imprint on the vodka bottle, tracing her finger in the grooves.

"I can tell you regret what you said to him."

"I thought you came here to bitch about Chad," Emily says pointedly with a touch of annoyance, handing the bottle back. "I didn't think this was going to turn into an Aaron interrogation."

"We're both too problematic to focus on just one issue, Emily. You know that." Her friend's tone is in jest, but there's truth behind her words.

"What do I do?" Emily doesn't mean to say it aloud - she's not looking for an answer, but she gets one anyway.

"You could start by apologizing," Allison quips lightly, missing the bottle when she reaches for it once again, the telltale sign she's had just a little too much. "I've heard that works wonders. Not that I've had any real success."

"Maybe you're right," Emily says, resisting the urge to yawn and desperately wanting to change the subject. "Enough about me. Tell me what happened with Chad."

Allison bites back a sob once again, and as her friend falls into her arms in a fit of tears, Emily is grateful to have someone else to put back together for once.