Late July 2008
He'd already gone out of his way to do so much. Taken her to the hospital, stayed nearby while the doctor examined her battered and bruised body, then he drove her home and ordered that she take a week off. So, when he nearly grabbed the go-bag off her shoulder as she got out of the car, Emily refused to let him help further.
A defeated look had emerged, an expression she'd accustomed to over time with his divorce and loss, but after the events in Colorado, exhaustion amplified the wrinkles and crevasses in every facial feature.
Hardly anybody had slept for the last three days.
She knew from the glances the team had given her as she walked out of that ranch that the whole situation had terrified everyone on a whole new level. The pure horror, panic and guilt in Reid's eyes as he had no choice but to sit and watch her body get flung around like a piece of meat… Morgan's swift actions to make sure she was okay before proceeding further into that hellhole… Rossi guiding her out of the building as quickly as possible… JJ's reaction of absolute disbelief that she was still alive as she tugged at her for dear life. And then Hotch… A man feeling obliged to carry all of them through the trauma.
As Emily stood in the shower, letting the steaming water blast her square in the face, her mind kept wandering to Hotch.
Maybe it was just her imagination talking, but she swore his gaze didn't leave her body the entire time she was waiting in the hospital. It was like if he looked away for a millisecond that she'd shatter like a fragile porcelain doll. It pissed her off because his intense gaze was so focused and precise, noticing every nuance and micro-expression invisible to any non-profiler, and it only added fuel to the burning sensations she felt anytime he walked into the room.
It wasn't just his eyes though that drove her crazy. It was the way he gently took her hand as he helped her step out of the vehicle… His determination to get her seen by a medical professional… How his shirt was tieless and unbuttoned at the top, revealing the slightest hint of chest hair.
Every day, the mask of Hotch weakened, and Aaron shone through.
Aaron carried with him a tenderness seen by very few, and she'd caught a glimpse of it weeks prior when his son snuggled into his shirt. It was all in his expression… Emily remembered how tensed his shoulders were from his job's stress, only seeming to ease as he gained comfort from Jack. How his ghost-white knuckles slowly flourished to a rosy pink as his grip loosened on the glass of whiskey. Little by little, he opened up parts of himself, like there was a key for every thought he kept locked away.
And the more he revealed, the more Emily fell for him.
But the weight of her feelings blurred the line between fantasy and reality. She found it difficult to not walk out of the elevator without slightly brushing past his suit or catching a whiff of his expensive cologne as he boarded the jet. As she wrote field reports, she'd glance up through his office window and see him quietly hunched under the golden lamp, writing so delicately. In those moments, Emily always lost track of her thoughts, her mind lingering in a spider web of dreams and impossibilities.
Then, something would snap her back to the real world, and she'd doubt what she felt even more.
After scrubbing every last mark of Cyrus off her body, Emily had swallowed some pills and collapsed on the couch watching a cringy reality show. The sound of her phone ringing at full volume startled her out of a deep sleep four hours later.
Penelope.
No more than 20 minutes after hanging up was the tech analyst knocking at her door. She enveloped the brunette in a gentle and speechless hug, attempting to not cry like a baby. As Emily felt her shoulder dampening, she whispered, "Oh Pen… I'm okay. Promise."
"Em," they pulled apart, Penelope's hands still glued to the brunette's shoulders, "oh my god… I'm so happy that you're here," she whispered with her heavy teardrops splattering to the ground. "I thought for sure that something awful was going to happen. And I couldn't do anything to help."
Guiding the sobbing woman into her living room, Emily sat her down on the couch and held out a box of tissues. "I'm sorry I'm such a mess right now," she cried, "just seeing you the way you are- are you okay?"
Emily nodded and smiled delicately at the concern, "but the bruising on your face-"
"It's really not that bad," she interrupted, "the only thing that hurts right now is seeing all you guys in pain about what happened." Emily's meant that; she never intended to send her friend into an uncontrollable meltdown. Then again, the events of the last few days were slowly catching up with everyone.
They would be memories impossible to forget.
"I begged Derek to tell me everything… But he refused." Penelope said as she dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.
"Good. You don't want to know the details. Trust me. It's not gonna make you feel better." The brunette rubbed circles on Penelope's arm as she calmed herself down, "I'd have a drink with you, but wine and meds don't mix well together."
"Well, that's why I brought over this," the tech analyst pulled out a large bottle of homemade pink lemonade from her bag, making Emily smile.
"Of course, you did! I'll go and grab some glasses-"
"NO. NO. Sit," Penelope commanded through the aftermath of her tears as she gently nudged Emily back onto the couch, "you're injured… I will go and get them. I've been here enough times to know where you keep everything."
Emily sighed as she leant back, feeling simultaneously loved and annoyed that everyone was refusing to let her do simple tasks. "Don't drop them on your way back! I paid good money for those cups."
"Oh honey, if I remember correctly, that's your job," Penelope shouted from the kitchen, causing the brunette to roll her eyes. As JJ and Penelope had discovered, Emily was terrible at delivering drinks while tipsy. Over time, it had become a running joke to bring up the many incidents and mock her clumsiness.
Garcia returned moments later, safely carrying two cups of lemonade over to the brunette. "You have to give me your recipe," Emily stated as she sipped the citrusy goodness.
"Uh-uh. Top secret."
"Come on, Pen… Not even to me?" Emily said with puppy dog eyes.
"You're dreaming if you think you can get me to reveal my tricks. Kevin tried and failed, and no offence, honey, but I don't think you could do any better."
Emily could have swallowed fish with how wide her mouth had flown open, "okay," she said with a sly smirk, "I was willing to accept defeat and live a life of painful agony, but now that you've compared me to your nerdy tech boyfriend with glasses bigger than his face, now I'm determined to find out."
Penelope's eyes crinkled as she gently sipped out of the reusable curly unicorn straw Emily kept in her drawer. "I wish you luck because you're never going to find it."
"I'm a profiler, it may take me years, but I'll get there eventually," the brunette muttered as she tucked her knees to her chest. "How are things between you and Kevin anyway? I never hear about you guys anymore."
Blushing, Penelope wriggled deeper into the cushion with a giddy smile creeping it's way out, "oh, he's such a romantic. Every Wednesday night, he finds some exotic food he's never tried and sets it up on a little picnic blanket on the floor."
Emily sensed hesitation "and?"
Gulping, Penelope continued, "And… This week he really wanted to take me out, but with everything that was happening… I couldn't even bring myself to leave my office. So… I think he's mad at me."
"Mad at you because you were worried?" Emily asked quizzically, "have you even tried talking to him about what was going on?"
"Well, that's the thing… I just snapped at him. Which, in hindsight, was the worst thing I could have done." Penelope adjusted her glasses, "he was just trying to be nice, and I completely blew him off… And now he hates me. Oh Em, what do I do?"
The brunette sucked in air through her teeth. Penelope and Kevin had so much in common when it came to their personalities. They were both sweet and sensitive people on the inside, but they were also very hot-headed when their boundaries were crossed. That was usually the reason why their relationship flew down the drain so often.
"Hate is uh… A very strong word to use. He was probably just giving you space. Now that you've calmed down, you should apologize and explain what happened…"
"God… I'm terrible at making it up to people. I can't even speak properly; I mumble and mix up words, and…" Penelope sighed, "I'm just an anxious, spastic, crazy hypochondriac that hates conflict."
"He'll understand," Emily reassured her, "you could win him over with that secret recipe?"
The way the brunette cocked her head with a suggestive quirk of the eyebrow had Penelope in stitches, "Oh Emily Prentiss… The wonder woman who never fails to crack a joke. You should get back on the dating scene, you know… It's been months since I've seen you happy."
Emily's eyes fixated on her warped reflection in her drink. She'd only been to a couple bars since ending it with Devon, and even then, she only spent fifteen minutes there at most before running out terrified. She just couldn't go through all that again. But her friend was right. Emily hadn't been laid in close to three months. Almost a world record in the scheme of things.
"I am happy," she said to Garcia, who just quirked an eyebrow.
"Okay, maybe you feel happy at the moment, but you have so much potential to be happier." The tech analyst placed her drink down on the side table, "I miss seeing your little smiles every morning you arrive, and the stories of what you got up to with hunka-dory the night before. Seeing you running out of the room to answer secret calls… God, Emily, you deserve so much more. So, what's the wait?"
Emily bit down on her bottom lip, not really wanting to get into too much detail. "Well, first of all, you think I'm gonna be hooking up with a guy tonight looking like the ragdoll from Coraline? And second of all,…" She sighed, "I guess I just needed a break from it all, you know?"
Penelope nodded. "And it's been nice not having to justify my long absences to men who can't handle my workload. I feel like I can finally breathe and just get on with the job."
"You realize you sound a lot like Hotch, don't you?"
Emily burst out laughing, "how do you mean?" Hotch and herself had completely different personalities and were two very different people.
"Well… You've both just gotten out of messy relationships. I'm betting a hundred bucks he hasn't gotten his groove on and found another pretty woman yet, and don't pretend I haven't seen you staying late completing those damn reports when you could be going out clubbing with me. Those are very Hotchner like traits I don't want you to adopt."
The more Penelope talked, the more Emily realized how similar her and Hotch's situations were. It was slightly eerie, to say the least.
"Hey," Emily said, holding up a hand, "at least I leave before midnight, and I make sure that I actually sleep at least six hours."
Both women burst out into giggles. As they quieted down, Emily felt a twinge of pain in her abdomen. "OH NO, are you okay?" Penelope asked with panic seeping into her voice.
"Yeah, I'm good… Just hurts when I laugh."
Showing a sad smile in her direction, the tech analyst glanced around the living room. "So… Hotch has given us a week off. Feel like having a movie marathon with me?"
"I'll probably pass out halfway through the first movie, but I'm up for it."
Somehow, Aaron had resisted all temptations to not pick up the phone and check up on Emily. It had been nice having Jack for a few days during his rare week off. Taking him out to the park, zoo, and museum had provided a welcoming distraction from the trauma he still carried from those horrible few days.
Laying in bed at night, Hotch wondered how he could fall for someone so soon after breaking up with Haley. It made him feel criminal. Even though they'd been divorced for months, the thought of moving forward without her consent seemed to plague him. It was like she still held control over every little thing Aaron did or didn't do. Often, when he couldn't get to Jack on a particular day, he heard her voice in the back of his head reprimanding him, critiquing him on what a lousy father he was for choosing work over his family.
Hotch wondered if she'd moved on with someone new. Someone who could actually provide her and Jack with what they needed…
Emily once asked him if he'd ever been cheated on, and he'd said no. But in the back of his mind, he had suspicions that Haley did betray him. The odd phone calls one after the other, the lack of communication and distance within their relationship. Hotch couldn't even remember the last time they'd been intimate.
Surprisingly, on the first Monday back at work, Hotch felt his stomach cartwheeling in anticipation of seeing the brunette. He'd arrived at work at 6am on the dot, knowing that there would be mountain loads of paper waiting patiently for his signatures. He'd barely gotten through a quarter of them when she silently walked through his door, startling him.
"I'm sorry, I should have knocked," Emily quickly apologized as she saw the man flinch; something in those documents must have zapped all his attention.
"Don't worry about it," Aaron replied as her sweet scent of perfume filled the room, increasing the blood flow to his cheeks.
The vibrance in her step as she took a seat opposite was the first thing he noticed. Her hair had been neatly groomed and straightened, and as Hotch searched her face, make-up covered the now yellowed bruising, with some spots around her cheeks still rearing their ugly heads. It pleased him though, to see her in much higher spirits than the week prior. "How are you feeling?"
"I feel fine."
"And your arm?"
The brunette rolled back the sleeve of her navy shirt, showing the wound in the slow and gnarly process of healing, "I've finished the medication; I just have to try and not itch it. How long have you been in? It's barely 7…" It shouldn't have been a surprise to her that Hotch was in early.
"Not long… Thought I should get a head start before Strauss fires me on the spot," he said dryly.
Emily nonchalantly quirked an eyebrow as her gaze fell to his desk, his papers neatly organized in specific piles. "You didn't take them home? I thought you lived and breathed this sort of stuff."
Hotch bit back a smirk, "I did, but I had Jack for a few days. 2-year-olds… They keep you busy."
"What did you guys get up to?"
"Lot's of visits to the playground, toilet training, zoo's… Only had one accident, and that was because we couldn't get to the bathroom in time." The thought of Hotch running around after Jack had her body fuzzy. Even though she felt that he doubted his abilities as a father, he was so good at it. "What about you?"
"Uh… Resting mostly." Emily admitted as she leant back in the chair and crossed her arms, "Garcia introduced me to the Pirates of the Caribbean series. I'm hooked."
"You'd never seen the series before?" Hotch asked, a hint surprised.
"Yeah… I'm more of a chick-flick kind of gal. But I enjoyed it."
In a rare occurrence, Hotch showed his dimples, "I, on the other hand, have never watched so much Sesame street in my life."
"Ah, I used to love that show as a kid. I'm pretty sure my father once dressed up as the cookie monster and scared me for Halloween one year… That was fun," she muttered sarcastically. It was one reason she hated jump-scare movies, not to mention she saw enough real-life horror on the job. "What's the caseload looking like today?"
"Last time I checked, quite minimal… I only briefly chatted to JJ, but she thinks there's an urgent one in Arizona." Hotch said as he grabbed another file to read through. "Are you sure you don't need more time off?"
People could look like they were holding everything together on the outside, but internally be barely functional. Although it was an unspoken rule not to profile each other, Aaron knew everyone's signs that things could be going downhill like the back of his hand. For Emily, her biggest tell was the heavy sighs, and deep breathes she took when dealing with something that made her uncomfortable. He had also noticed she had a terrible habit of biting her fingernails, which was the reason why she'd sit on her hands as much as possible in times of anxiousness, something she'd done when they were waiting at the hospital.
Watching her expression closely, Emily smiled in his direction with a nod. "I'm perfectly fine, Hotch. All it is… Is just a bad memory."
Aaron wished more than anything that he carried her emotional strength. It was one of the hundred things that had him fascinated about her. The woman had literally been kicked, punched, dragged… You name it… And here she was, sitting in his office merely a week later as if nothing awful had ever happened while he kept trying to erase her horrid screams from his head.
He didn't know how she did it.
"Okay," Hotch said, picking up his pen again and returning to work.
On the few cases they'd investigated since the incident in Colorado, the team had taken their time adjusting back into their regular groove.
The first case felt awkward. Emily was certain everybody had the same question right on the tip of their tongue, but nobody dared to ask.
"Are you okay?"
Instead, their concern and worry were communicated through actions. Morgan had practically begged Hotch to be partnered up with her when interviewing the victim's families. Rossi had very generously bought her a cup of coffee on multiple occasions, and JJ and Reid sent her small smiles every time she entered the room. As for Hotch, Emily felt his eyes burning her at every opportunity, looking for signs that things could go awry.
But Emily had kept her composure, proving that she was more than capable of continuing to do her job. And with each case, the aftermath of everything that was Colorado slowly faded into the back of their minds, never to be brought up in conversation for a long time.
In the rare moments they weren't working a profile, JJ's pregnancy had provided the best distraction for them all when she strolled into work revealing the gender of her new baby. A little boy. And Emily couldn't have been happier. The process of her friend flourishing from a badass liaison with a wild streak to a protective mother about to give birth had been incredible to watch.
At times, it had Emily emotional, knowing that motherhood had been kicked to the curb due to her career. But she had embraced all the moments she'd never be able to have through JJ. And she sure as heck would cuddle that little boy as much as she could.
Before she knew it, the last days of summer were approaching, and the team found themselves on an odd case in Nevada. Every year, murderers and unsubs had no choice but to think of new strategies to evade capture. Emily thought she'd seen everything from murders disguised as suicides to FBI agents getting framed for something they didn't do… But disguising murders in the forms of car accidents, that was something one didn't see every day.
She could see this one had gotten to Hotch though.
They'd figured out the victims were tortured in a motel room before dying, and everyone had the job of visiting the one million accommodation sites Nevada had to offer. Hotch had unknowingly met the unsub at one particular place and dismissed the guy, only to find out hours later that his calm and collected persona hid the wrath of a monster beneath.
And Hotch was berating himself for not seeing it sooner.
He'd set himself up in the far corner of the jet on the way home, immersing himself in more and more files. Everybody, including Emily, had left him alone as he processed his thoughts.
As usual with a night flight, Hotch beelined back to the unit after wishing everybody a good night. Meanwhile, Rossi couldn't help but smirk at Emily as she debated whether she wanted to go home or back into the office to start her report.
"Ugh. The hot tub's been calling my name the entire time we've been away," she said irately, walking away from the jet.
"Just do it then," Rossi urged her, "curl up with a good wine and RELAX."
"I can't, though. I'll forget everything that happened, and then Hotch will get pissed because I didn't put enough detail in it. Do you know how awful it is Rossi when I've poured my heart and soul into those reports, and he just hands them back like an overdue bill?"
"Don't take it personally. He does that to everyone."
The brunette scoffed, "easy for you to say. You're David Rossi! Hotch doesn't bat an eyelid if you accidentally forget a full stop."
Shrugging slightly, Dave really couldn't compete against that statement, "you should ask him about the process. Why he's so finicky about it."
"I don't need to ask. He's just naturally pedantic and not to mention a highly organized perfectionist who hates disorder."
"I think it's a little more complicated than that," Rossi said with a chuckle, "if you ever have the marvellous opportunity of being offered the position, you'd understand why."
Ultimately, getting her thoughts down on paper seemed the best decision. Emily diverted past a vending machine and grabbed a chocolate bar before heading back up to the unit. She liked how quiet it was after hours. The only people ever around were cleaners and the occasional co-worker from another department trundling for a particular file, and then there was Hotch, of course.
Finishing her report to an acceptable standard, Emily made sure to knock on his door before entering, "how's the paperwork coming along?"
Hotch hummed miserably in response as he took Prentiss' file and placed it in its rightful spot. "I've had better days."
"Tell me about it," Emily asked as she leant forward on the spine of the chair, "why do you put yourself through this agony?"
Quickly signing his signature, Hotch passed the paper to Emily for her to look at, "for every arrest we make in the field, I have to justify and explain to the tribunal why it was necessary and prove that the unsub was guilty. It needs to be completed within two weeks, so it's easier to just get it done as soon as possible."
Emily quirked her brow as she read over the meticulously detailed summary of their most recent case. "No kidding… What happens if you don't complete it in time?"
"Court gets antsy, they inform Strauss who informs me… Then hell breaks loose."
Handing the form back to Hotch, Emily sat down in the seat, fiddling her hands together. "Sounds like my worst nightmare… I struggle to write one field report some days; how you handle everything else on top of that will forever intrigue me."
"You get used to it," Hotch muttered half-heartedly. "You know, I think you could be pretty good at it." Out of everyone's reports Hotch reviewed, it was apparent Emily spent the most time on them, making sure everything was as precise as possible. It's partly why he was so hard on her when something wasn't right; Hotch couldn't afford to have her slip from the high standards.
"What? Unit chief? No…" Prentiss whispered, shaking her head, "have you seen the state of my desk? I'm pretty sure Strauss has a fit every time she walks past."
Failing to bite back a smirk, Aaron grabbed another form, "maybe you don't have the patience to organize your surroundings, but you have the drive and definitely the skill. That's all you need for the job."
"You're forgetting the rest of the job description. No sleep, working overtime, stress. I don't think I can give up my treasured nights on the couch watching Desperate housewives with a wine only to drown in paper."
"When you put it like that, I can understand why you'd be hesitant."
Chewing her bottom lip, Emily noticed how his expression hardened as he started writing. Surely, he couldn't have still been beating himself up about the unsub. "It wasn't your fault about what happened earlier. I would have done the exact same and not thought a wink about the guy."
Aaron's jaw tightened as he recalled chasing the bastard through the woods only to see him wilt to the ground upon running in front of a truck. That poor couple could have avoided so much trauma and injury if Hotch had just pried a little further. The absurdity of how ordinary the guy seemed had completely blinded him. Whether it was by lack of sleep or a high level of deception on the unsub's part, he should have noticed the signs.
"It nearly cost that couple their lives…" He said, not looking up.
"They survived, though," Emily reminded, "doesn't get better than that."
"They'll spend the rest of their lives haunted, trying to find ways to cope with what happened."
Nodding ever so slightly, her mouth set into a hard line as Hotch's forehead creased. She wished he could open himself up more often to see the positives and not focus on the negatives. "It's better than leaving their children orphaned for the rest of their lives."
His silence told Emily he was processing her words. Figuring it was time she unwound at home, she brushed her hands over her trousers before making her way to the door, "please tell me you'll go home before midnight?"
Upon being scrutinized by the brunette's dark and inquiring orbs from the doorway, he couldn't help but notice how the gentle waves of her hair delicately brushed her tilted neck. "I will," he reassured, quickly pulling his eyes away from her attractive features.
"Good. Because you spelt the unsub's name wrong on that form," Emily teased. She felt herself smirk as he clenched his jaw and deeply sighed. "Goodnight, Hotch."
She was bloody right as well, Hotch concluded as he took the paper out of the 'complete' tray and corrected the mistake.
"What would I do without you?" Aaron whispered long after she'd left.
A/N: Thanks for reading guys! Let me know what you thought.