Author's Note: You know how men can sometimes say really stupid things because they have NO idea how a woman's thought processes actually work? Yeah, well, Hotch is a man, so, angst ahoy!

TV Prompt Set #49

Show: Medium

Title Challenge: Me Without You

Everything I Wish I Hadn't Said

After they got into the car, Hotch again attempted to make amends . . . but Emily still wasn't having any of it.

She wasn't having anything to do with him at all.

When he tried to take her hand, she immediately yanked her fingers away. Then she pulled her arm over and folded her body in on itself as she slumped against the door. It was clear that she was nowhere near ready to forgive him for how he had rebuffed her need for comfort. So in the meantime . . . he swallowed . . . this apparently was reciprocity.

Rejection for rejection.

Well played. Because it hurt. Her pulling away, it actually made it a little bit hard for him to breath. There was a faint panic clawing up, because they didn't fight with each other.

Ever.

Not since that day.

That day, and all the days since, she'd been his security blanket. The one person left in the world that GOT him. The him that he was now.

A broken, guilt ridden, mess.

And now he had no one.

That might have sounded a little dramatic . . . but it wasn't. It didn't matter that this upset might blow over in an hour . . . or God forbid, it might take a full day . . . the point was that at this moment in time, she'd set him adrift.

And his brain wasn't yet to the point where it could function without her.

And so in his rising panic, he again opened his mouth to say something . . . what, he had no idea . . . but then there was a screech of tires as a car flew down and around the exit ramp not thirty feet away. And then he refocused on where they actually were.

The Quantico garage.

Obviously not the location for any kind of 'heart to heart.' Especially one likely to end in tears . . . or raised voices . . . or both.

He was thinking both.

So rather than attempting to speak again, Hotch simply took a breath to try and calm him his racing heart. Then he put the car in gear, and pulled out.

A few minutes later, as they drove through the front gate, he attempted to gain a little perspective on the situation. To step back a bit, and remind himself that Emily needed him just as much as he needed her. So regardless of how upset she was with him at the moment . . . and the modifier for her level of upset was clearly, "very" . . . she was still likely to want get passed whatever it was that they were in the midst of, as soon as possible. That was the only thing that made sense.

Or at least it made sense to him.

Which meant that maybe if he just kept his damn mouth shut . . . and his hands well to himself . . . then perhaps by the time they reached her apartment, she'd have decided on her own to forgive him for what had happened.

The reasoning seemed sound, but then a minute later he winced as another thought came to him. A realization really. It was the black and white reality of what he had actually done.

Fucked up the entire essence of their relationship.

Because what made their relationship special . . . what bonded them . . . was the unconditional acceptance that they received from each other. The middle of the night phone calls, the hair tearing out therapy sessions . . . the night terrors.

The panic attacks.

They kept each other going. They allowed the other to ALWAYS feel like they had one safe place to go. So from her perspective, what had happened in the office was a trust fall.

And he'd stepped back.

He'd let her hit the rocks . . . his stomach churned . . . and he was supposed to be her safety net. So with a betrayal like that, for a person who no longer trusted anyone or anything, what kind of damage had been done to their relationship?

He had no clue.

Though he could see that in the reverse . . . if she had done this to him . . . that he would have been devastated. And likely not quick to trust her again.

He could only pray that she would handle things better than he would.

Either way though, keeping his mouth shut now seemed to be the ONLY good course of action at the moment. So with that plan for him to stay ABSOLUTELY silent, and her clear desire to continue to have ABSOLUTELY nothing to do with him, unlike their usual commute home . . . and they had been commuting together since they started back, neither had been ready to go it alone . . . the afternoon ride back to Emily's house was silent.

Painfully so.

The whole drive, Hotch kept trying to convince himself that although his screw-up was serious, it wasn't unforgivable. After all, he'd committed FAR greater sins that year . . . he now had a body count higher than many of the monsters that he'd captured . . . and Emily had forgiven him those trespasses.

So eventually she would this one as well.

Which meant that he just had to suck it up until she was ready to move past it. It was the thought that he tried to console himself with . . . but the consolation was minimal.

The tightness in his chest was increasing.

The problem was that his head and his heart were very much out of alignment. And though he might have worked through the "mechanics" of the situation . . . the mental bit . . . that didn't mean that he actually felt any better about the whole thing. That was the problem with emotional co-dependence.

You literally could not function properly without the other person's support.

But he tried to act normally. Or at least as normal as could be for someone who rapidly felt like he was careening towards a nervous breakdown. And that wasn't just the current situation with Emily.

That was just the topper of a shit sandwich.

This first week of their return had already been hellish enough even before this had happened. Work wasn't going well. He hadn't been ready to go back.

He hadn't been ready to be chief again.

And at the rate the days were going . . . more and more difficult with each one that passed . . . he wasn't entirely sure that he ever would be again. But that was a secret he was keeping to himself.

For now anyway.

It was the kind of thing that he'd ordinarily talk about with Emily . . . and he'd wanted to, so badly . . . but she'd been struggling too. So it would have been another stressor for her if she'd had to worry about him leaving.

He hadn't wanted to upset her.

Yeah Aaron . . . he thought bitterly . . . you did a fucking BANG up job on that front!

Though the burst of anger at himself wasn't unexpected, it wasn't helpful either. So he took a breath and refocused on the drive back to her place.

Eleven miles to go.

/*/*/*/*/*/

When they finally arrived at Emily's building, Hotch drove over to his usual parking spot in the visitors' area on the back end of the lot. It was still so early that most of her neighbors hadn't yet returned home from work.

A quick check of his watch showed that it was barely three.

And for a moment after they pulled into the spot, he let the air conditioning run, listening to the soft hiss and feeling the cool air on his face. He was waiting for Emily to say . . . something.

Anything.

Even cursing would do. Really, a fight he could handle. Fighting was talking, and at least if they were talking, then they'd be on the path to fixing things. But this continued silence was hell.

And she had to know it.

And then he saw Emily reaching to undo her belt. He knew then that she'd made her decision . . . she didn't want to talk. Or fight. Or anything.

Not now.

And though part of him knew that it was a bad idea . . . that if she needed the time, he should just give it to her . . . the other part of him, the part that felt like he was drowning on dry land, couldn't let her go without trying to fix it.

He turned the car off.

"Emily . . ."

He started again, just as he had twice already in the last hour. But again he didn't get any farther. Because she cut him off with a tight, "not tonight Aaron . . . not tonight."

And then she was flinging her door open . . . she was leaving.

Shit!

Now he was going under for the third time.

His fingers had clamped down around her wrist before she'd gone further than putting one boot down onto the asphalt.

"Emily," he pleaded again softly, his voice now getting thick with emotion, "I know that you're upset with me, and that you don't want to deal with that right now, but please let me come up. Please don't handle it this way."

Her eyes snapped over to his . . . he could see then that they were watering. Then she closed them.

"Aaron, I really don't . . ."

But that time he cut her off.

"I know," he continued softly, "I know you don't. But I'm asking you to anyway. Because I can't leave knowing things aren't right. Please," he gave her a sad smile, "I need you."

Though he'd thought that was the best way to reconnect . . . to remind her of how he was basically lost with her . . . the second the words were out of his mouth, he realized that it was the worst thing that he could have said. Because rather than softening her shell, instead Emily's face twisted at his words. Morphing from the visible pain, and back to the earlier anger.

Fuck.

"Yes, well," Emily choked back, "when I needed you, you pushed ME away." Angry tears started to pool in her eyes.

"And how does that feel, Aaron?!" She continued with the tears now sliding down her face, "to have the ONE person in the world that you need to keep your sanity, REJECT you?!"

Hearing the anguish in Emily's voice, in that moment Hotch finally realized JUST how badly he'd hurt her back at the office. His own eyes started to sting in sympathy.

He swallowed over the lump forming in his throat.

"It feels terrible. And I'm so sorry for how I handled things. I am. But Emily," his jaw twisted, "what I did, though I can see now that it was cruel, I didn't do it to intentionally hurt you. At the time it didn't even register that it might. But what you're doing now, that's deliberate."

He thought that he was appealing to her kinder nature . . . that if he pointed out that she was hurting him . . . maybe then she'd want to talk it out.

But again, he said exactly the wrong thing. Because that time he saw Emily's eyes widen in shock and pain . . . and then they shot back to anger. Though that time 'anger' didn't cover it.

It was more of a rage.

And seeing the sparks shooting from her watery eyes, Hotch realized that he hadn't just put his foot back into his mouth . . . he'd jammed it straight down his throat.

But just as he opened his mouth to immediately apologize, again, Emily opened hers.

And she let him have it.

"You're such an ASSHOLE!" She spit back, half sobbing, half yelling. "After EVERYTHING that we've been through together, if you could think that I would ever PURPOSELY cause you any more pain than you've already suffered, then you don't know me at ALL!"

And with that, she yanked her wrist out of his grasp . . . and before he could blink . . . she'd fled the car.

He was after her like a shot.

"WAIT, EMILY!" He slammed the door, "PLEASE!" He started racing to catch up, yelling after her, "I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY!"

Unfortunately Emily could run almost as fast as he could . . . and she'd had an adrenaline filled head start . . . so they were more than halfway across the parking lot before he finally caught up to her.

His fingers again locked down around her wrist . . . though that time he also spun her back and to his chest.

"LET ME GO!" She screamed, trying to yank her arm free, while punching him solidly in the chest with the other.

Her bad arm was much stronger than it was even a few weeks ago.

So the punches hurt . . . but still Hotch couldn't let her go. Especially now with her near hysterics. Because that was ENTIRELY his fault! He'd brought her to this.

A total breakdown.

In public.

Though some small part of his brain did remind him that people would be coming home soon, and he was going to be in county lock up if anybody saw . . . and misinterpreted . . . the current scene taking place. His gaze briefly shifted around the area.

With her sobbing and screaming for him to let her go, he'd look like a parking lot mauler.

When his eyes snapped back to Emily's, he saw that not only was she now sobbing, but she also looked terrified.

Literally terrified.

But he knew that she wasn't scared of him. Even now with her struggling, he was aware of how to hold her without hurting her. Hell, he'd happily let her beat the shit out of him if that's what she needed to do to feel better, but that wouldn't fix this. Because he'd just remembered that all of this had started with an incident at the office. She'd been stressed and vulnerable and hurting . . . and all he kept doing was making things worse.

A thousand times worse EVERY TIME he opened his mouth!

And feeling his heart twisting with pain and guilt, rather than letting go as she was ordering him to, he opted to pull her even closer. His touch was soft but firm as he wrapped his free arm completely around her waist. Then he began fervently whispering in her ear.

"I am an asshole, and an idiot, and a jerk, and everything else that you're thinking right now. I agree one hundred percent. You were already having a bad day, and I just keep making it worse for you. And I know that you just want me to go and leave you alone, but Emily," his voice thickened, "I just can't do that."

He pulled back slightly to kiss her cheek.

"Because I can't leave you crying all alone," he murmured against her salty skin, "especially when this is all my fault."

Feeling Emily's body suddenly settle against his . . . she'd finally stopped struggling to get away . . . he tipped his head back slightly to look down at her.

The tears were still spilling over, and her breath was still ragged, but he could also see her gnawing her lip as she stared down at their shoes. And he knew that was her wanting to listen to him, wanting to forgive him.

She just needed one more push.

"Please Emily," his tone was quiet and strained as he brushed a strand of her hair back from her wet cheek, "please let me stay." He pressed his forehead against hers, "I know that I have no excuse for what I said in the car. That was just," he exhaled, "wrong. It was very wrong. And I hope you can forgive me for being so thoughtless. But at the office," he closed his eyes, "I was just being overly cautious. I was afraid that if somebody saw us come out of the conference room after the lights had been out, that it might get back to Strauss, and we'd end up getting separated. That was a worry I should have told you about before. And I obviously should have explained myself immediately. But please know that it never occurred to me that my pulling away would hurt you so badly." He pressed another kiss to her cheek.

"I would never hurt you on purpose," he murmured, again tasting the saltiness of her tears, "never."

Already, a minor screw-up on his part, had been tripped over and compounded into a major cluster. If they let this fester . . . if he didn't fix this NOW . . . it was going to cause a genuine rift.

And literally, all they had was each other.

Emily bit her lip . . . and then her eyes slowly opened.

"Okay," she sniffled, "I forgive you for the office, but," her watery gaze shifted up to his, "I'm still upset about what you said in the car." Fresh tears flooded her eyes as her voice broke, "how could you even think that about me? That I would ever be so CRUEL to you?"

Hotch winced, feeling another stab of pain in his chest.

"But I don't think that Emily," he vehemently shook his head, "I really don't. I just," he bit his lip, "I opened my mouth and something incredibly stupid came out. I was just panicking about you being upset with me, and I misinterpreted your silence because I wasn't thinking clearly." Then he sighed.

"Really I was just talking when I should have kept my mouth shut."

Emily stared up at Hotch, her eyes still leaking tears, as she tried to gauge the truthfulness of his words. It wasn't like him to blatantly lie . . . but he had said what he'd said. But had he simply spoken in a blind panic, or had he . . . on ANY level . . . truly believed that she was trying to hurt him?

Looking up at him now, so sad and remorseful, it was hard to believe anything BUT the words he was speaking in that moment. Especially because he was usually so sensitive and gentle with her.

She slowly exhaled.

So it probably was just a panicked bluster.

It was the only thing that made sense. And once her heart had accepted his explanation as her brain just had, she slowly nodded.

"Okay," she whispered, "okay, I forgive you for that one too. And if you still want to come upstairs," she sniffed and wiped her hand across her face, "I guess that would be okay."

Though she was entirely too overwrought for a continued heart to heart, it was impossible to resist him when he was holding her close, and saying all of the right things.

This was the man who was stealing her heart.

And she wasn't looking to torture him by sending him home. Contrary to whatever fleeting thought had flashed through his foolish man brain, she wasn't capable of such pettiness. He had already suffered a lifetime's worth of pain.

No matter how angry she was with him, the thought of deliberately inflicting more made her feel physically ill.

And seeing the flash of relief on his face, she knew that she'd made the right choice in forgiving him now rather than later. And when he leaned down to kiss her nose, she couldn't help the shy smile that crossed her lips. Then she let him pull her up into a bear hug, lifting her off the ground, as he clutched her to his chest. The irony that this was all she'd wanted from him at the office . . . a simple hug, which would have taken all of ten seconds . . . did not escape her.

But she didn't let it cause her any bitterness either.

She just took the embrace in the spirit that it was given . . . openly, and lovingly. He squeezed her tight, and nuzzled her neck, and for a moment she once more almost forgot a simple truth . . . he wasn't hers. Not really.

But then she remembered again.

She winced in pain.

Though that one wasn't his fault. Still though, when he put her down and gently brushed her hair back behind her ears, she was finding it hard to find her smile again. And of course he could see that too, because he immediately cupped her cheek with one hand, and squeezed her fingers with the other.

"What is it?" He whispered, his expression once again completely serious.

But she just shook her head and swallowed the lump . . . what it was wasn't something that could be fixed or apologized away. It was just their life.

It was what it was.

She tipped her head.

"Let's go inside."

Then she pulled out of his embrace . . . that time he let her . . . and started walking away.

Her arms were wrapped around her chest. Her heart hurt, her head hurt, and she realized then that her God damn ARM hurt.

Her arm was killing her.

And Aaron had been careful to not jostle her bad arm, so if she'd somehow strained it when she was hitting him . . . a possibility . . . that was her own damn fault. But then she realized that the stress . . . her anger, that was leading to a physiological response in her body. Muscles tightened and clenched.

No wonder she was in pain.

She'd be sucking down the Vicodin tonight.

But then she noticed Hotch hurrying to get the door for her, and then to make sure that she didn't get bumped by the girl running out with her jogging clothes on. And she started to feel her affection for him pushing forward to override her sadness and pain.

He was just so damn sweet.

And that continued when they got upstairs. He had his emergency keys out to open her door before she'd even thought to put her hand into her pocket. And after they got inside, she left him in the hallway locking up so that she could go put on the tea water. Special herbal for them both.

And probably a shot of whiskey in each.

For those few minutes that the water was boiling, she very particularly paid no attention to Aaron's location in the apartment. Though she could hear him moving around, she didn't look to see exactly what he was doing. She wasn't quite ready to deal with him again yet.

Or really deal with any of it yet.

Not so much the non-relationship stuff. That wasn't up for discussion that night. But she was going to have to explain the whole damn chain of events that led to their fight. The picture . . . and her anger at JJ, and that meant that she was going to start crying again. That's what she was trying to push off.

A third breakdown in one afternoon.

But finally the water boiled and then the tea was steeping, and the mugs were ready. She took a deep breath.

Showtime.

"My arm's feeling kind of weak today," she called out softly, "do you want to come get your mug? I might spill it."

There was no verbal response to her statement, but she could hear Aaron's footsteps quickly coming in from the living room. And then a moment later his presence when he stopped just behind her.

They weren't touching, but he was close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body.

For a second he was just standing there, and she started to turn . . . but then his arm was wrapping around her waist, and his hand was pressing against her stomach, and his chin was on her shoulder. He pulled her hair back and pressed a kiss to her neck.

Her eyes started to burn again.

"Aaron," she whispered, trying to swallow the tears in her voice, "what are you doing?"

"Something that I know I'm not supposed to do," he murmured with another kiss, his breath tickling her ear, "but you're so sad, and I hate it when you're sad."

Emily bit down hard on her lip, her hands clenching into tight fists as the tears pooled in her eyes.

Why was he DOING this?! Didn't he understand it just made it WORSE?!

"But I already told you," her voice cracked as a tear slipped down her cheek, "you can't touch me like this, not unless you MEAN it."

"But I do mean it."

Hotch's words were husky with emotion. And feeling Emily's whole body stiffen up in his arms, he gently turned her around.

And though his heart clenched to see the tears in her eyes, he hoped that he could do something to fix the sadness behind them.

"I know what you told me a couple weeks ago," he continued softly, yet earnestly, trying not to screw up what he knew was one of the most important conversations he was ever going to have, "and since then I've been trying to figure all of this out. And the conclusion that I've come to," his hand came up to cup her cheek, "is that I want you. I finally knew that for sure today when you pulled your hand away from me in the car. I've barely touched my wife in weeks, I don't think I've held her hand in months, and that's all been just fine. That's how I wanted it. But just ONE car ride with you out of my reach," his eyes started to water, "and I felt like I was unraveling. Because you're the one that I want to be with."

Seeing another tear slip down Emily's cheek, even as her expression began to brighten, he had to swallow the lump forming in his throat.

Unfortunately there was more. Because rarely in real life did anyone get to make a 'romantic' declaration and then just ride off into the sunset.

Least of all people like them.

"But even though I have these feelings for you Emily," he continued softly, brushing his thumb along her jaw, "I also know, well . . ." he swallowed because now he was getting to the hard part, "in my gut I know that it's still too soon to pack up and leave my home."

Feeling a fresh stab of pain, Emily's gaze snapped away from Hotch's. It landed somewhere over his shoulder.

Whatever little spark of hope that she'd felt begin to flicker . . . had just been blown out. The remaining tears began to slowly trickle down her face.

"So what are you SAYING?!" She whispered with a broken sob, "do you want to be with me, or not?! Because I can't take this Aaron! I can't! Not along with everything else," she sniffled, "you can't twist me around like this!"

"I'm not twisting you around Emily," Hotch whispered as his thumb stroked along her cheek, "I promise. What I'm actually trying to tell you, even if I'm doing a piss poor job of it, is that whenever I attempt to look ahead, to try to find happiness somewhere in my future," his lips curved in a sad smile, "all I see you." He pressed a kiss to her forehead before murmuring, "and you're the only one. But the problem is that I still need you to be patient," he pulled back, "please. Because there are things that I need to work out with Haley, especially as it relates Jack. And I don't know how long that's going to take. But I wanted you to know how I felt," he gave her a sad smile, "because I was hoping that maybe you felt the same way."

Though he could see from the expression on Emily's face . . . confusion, shock, continued tears . . . how this might be coming from left field, it wasn't. A couple weeks of ago she'd told him to figure it out, that he had to be sure what he wanted, and God damn had he been trying. Today though, that fight, it really had been the catalyst for him to get his shit together on this one area of his life where he actually could exert some control. That had been the only thing on his mind when they were walking upstairs.

What was he going to do next?

Because it had become obvious that the status quo had to end. He couldn't have her in tears because he'd shoved his foot into his mouth, and yet STILL be unable to express his feelings for her. This . . . them . . . whatever they were, it might have been all that they had now. But he knew that they could be so much more.

Just not all of it today.

So now it was time to see if Emily was willing to take what he could offer her now . . . a relationship on an installment plan . . . or if would she send him packing.

From the way that her fists were clenching, and her eyes were watering . . . he bit down hard on his lip . . . he had no idea which way it was going to go.

A/N 2: Obviously there is more to their evening :) It's more long messiness so I cut it where I did for my sanity's sake. I'm not saying which way things go, if they get together now'ish or not, but I will say, even if they DO, that doesn't mean the story would be over. I never said that the 'point' of this one was whether they'd opt to become romantically involved. The point was always their physical and emotional recovery from the events in the earlier story. Together, apart, half assed together, whatever, that remains secondary to the recovery. But given Hotch's visceral reaction to the thought of losing Emily's affection, versus his completely apathetic assessment of losing Haley's, it was clear that would be a kick in the ass for him to say 'something.' But Emily has been through the ringer already that day, so we'll have to see if she's on the same page. And if you're thinking, why was she so hysterical in the parking lot, remember, she's a mess :) They both are. They'd been doing a little better, but then the stress of work is knocking them back again, so their control on both sides is going to be less than what it was. Which obviously would not lend itself to healthy and stable relationship building, nor would their clear emotional codependency. But, we shall see where they end up :)

Thanks for reading everybody!