"Nobody on their deathbed ever said, I wish I'd spent more time on my business." - Paul Tsongas


Mid-June 2009

Emily just about threw her phone across the room when she saw JJ's caller ID at 7am. So much for a restful sleep-in.

"Jayge, you've got to be kidding me…." She groaned, rubbing one hand over her eyes. "We're not meant to be working today. Where's Sam's team?"

"They're stuck in LA working another case. They can't get away." Emily could hear Henry whining on the line. "I wouldn't have called if it wasn't urgent, Em."

"I know, JJ… What's this thing called sleep again?"

The blonde snorted. "It's non-existent… Meet you down there in a half-hour." With that, the line went dead.

Penelope, who had also unpleasantly woken up to the sound of a screeching phone call, was already getting ready. "Looks like I'm heading into the office. What have we got?"

"I don't know…." Emily said, grounding herself on the edge of the bed. "Must be serious enough, though, to call us in on our day off."

"Okay. You shower. I'll get on to breakfast and coffee…."


Something didn't feel right.

Not answering his cell phone... And not showing up at Tom Barton's house for over 2 hours after they were called out... It was so unlike Hotch.

Most days, he was up at 6:00am sharp no matter when he fell asleep. And the most logical thing Emily could think of as she drove across town to his apartment was that he'd simply slept in and left his phone on vibrate. After all, Canada had absolutely wrecked him. It wouldn't surprise her if he was merely catching up on extra rest.

What concerned her, though, was that it was now 10:00am. Hotch slept in, but it was usually a couple of hours at maximum. And the fact that he still hadn't answered his phone or JJ's voicemails worried her even more.

Calling his phone once more as she stood outside his apartment, Emily felt her stomach sink as she heard his ringtone through the door. She went to grab his spare key from her back pocket, only to find that the apartment was already unlocked. That's when she felt the panic in her chest start to reveal itself.

Grabbing her weapon, she stormed into his apartment. And the state that greeted Emily simultaneously confused and terrified her.

His keys were sat on the side table, briefcase lying idle on the sofa. She had to doubletake as she noticed what looked to be a bullet hole ahead. At first glance, it looked to have torn straight through the wall.

Already, Emily didn't want to venture further into the apartment, fearing her worst nightmare. But she had to, for Aaron's sake. As she turned the corner, her gaze fell to the dining table, his gun staring back. The first thing he always did when he got home was put his gun into the safe whether Jack was with him or not.

Then her breath hitched as she glanced to the floor.

Blood.

From a quick observation, most of it had dried up, which meant that whatever had happened was pretty recent. It didn't look enough to suggest a whole body had bled out, but someone here was seriously injured. And whether it was Hotch's or not, Emily couldn't tell. She couldn't keep mourning over it, though, when whoever was responsible could still have been lurking around.

The further she adventured into the apartment, the more the alarm bells in her head awakened. Smashed glass… His cell phone hidden underneath the table… But still no Aaron.

After clearing the rest of the apartment, including the downstairs garage, and thankfully not finding anything worse than what she'd already witnessed, Emily released a shaky breath. It partly reassured her that she hadn't found a body. She didn't know how she would have coped if she'd walked in, seeing him lying lifeless on the ground. But that didn't mean he wasn't dead. Someone could have easily dumped his body elsewhere. Or maybe the blood wasn't even his…

Her own thoughts terrified Emily by the second. Almost brought her to tears just thinking about it. But she had to think about this from a profiling perspective, not personally.

Taking a deep breath, the brunette called Garcia, and then she called Reid. Bureau techs were on their way. In the meantime, Emily retraced Hotch's movements. That fact that his briefcase was laid across the sofa told her he'd hardly been home that long before whatever happened. And she was positive nobody had been shot due to the lack of blood and tissue surrounding the bullet hole. The broken glass on the floor told a different story. He may have been startled after pouring a drink or threw it at the offender as a defence.

It was hard to know.

Taking out her notebook, Emily walked around the apartment, noting anything unusual. Most of his things were still stuck in boxes from when he'd moved in months ago. He was notoriously terrible at unpacking his belongings. But all the important stuff seemed in their usual place from what she could remember. She glanced over his laptop and looked through the odd book lying around. When she reached his day planner, things got weird, with the B section in the book missing.

After bureau techs arrived and started combing through the apartment, Emily felt her stomach tighten, and her heart beat a little more forcefully, as Garcia called.

Everything clicked into place as they figured out it was the reaper behind all this. And immediately, Emily was already halfway to the hospital.

Too anxious to even realise she'd run a red light, Emily nibbled at her fingernails the closer she got to Aaron. She had no idea what to expect. Whether he was seriously ill, conscious, or if he'd return to his usual self again, the thoughts racing through her head were endless. And then to have the Reaper rise from his cowardness and lurk in the shadows waiting to strike again… She couldn't help but wonder about the gravity of just how dangerous this situation was.

As soon as she found Hotch in the intensive care ward, Emily felt herself release a breath as she saw him. At first glance, he was asleep and had all sorts of monitors attached to him, as well as a large bandage covering his arm. Hearing that he'd been stabbed nine times sent eerie chills running down her back. It'd be a long and torturous journey to recover from that trauma… But at least he was alive.

God, she was so grateful he was alive.

After gentle reassurance from the doctor that he'd be waking from the anaesthetic within the hour, Emily dragged a seat next to Aaron, nervously keeping a close eye on him. At least he looked peaceful as he slept. That's the only positive thing she could think about as she looked him over and let the severity of his wounds set in.

"Oh, Hotch…" She whispered with a lost breath, smoothing her thumb over his hand, hoping that he felt her love and warmth protecting him in his unconsciousness.


Blurry… Everything felt blurry.

And hazy. Almost as if he was still dreaming.

The rhythmic beep to his right sounded familiar… But he couldn't place where he'd heard it before. Voices were around him somewhere, faint; Aaron couldn't quite pinpoint where they were coming from.

The more he came to, the more he fought the urge to be dragged back into sleep. Her perfume, the familiar fruity scent, drew him out of his trance. He could recognise her scent any day in a crowded room. "Where am I?" He asked faintly, still fighting the haze.

"You're in the hospital…."

Rossi was here too. The weird beeping made sense now. Releasing a weak breath, he felt his entire waist tense up. Whatever drugs they'd given him eased the blow, but the pain was still there. A dull ache intensifying with each breath in.

"How'd I get here?"

Morgan's voice sounded from the end of the bed. "Foyet drove you."

Foyet…

"Do you remember what happened?" Emily asked him softly.

Aaron felt his jaw tense up as vague memories of the night prior slowly swept back into his memory. He didn't care about remembering. He refused to let himself go back there.

"What did he take?" He asked, aiming the question at the brunette to his right.

"What do you mean?" The Italian answered in confusion.

"The Reaper always took something from his victims. Do we know what he took?"

"There was a page missing from your day planner in the address section, the B's," Emily told him.

Hotch felt his blood pressure rise, knowing immediately what Foyet was after. But he didn't want to admit it. "What did he leave?"

Emily, at a loss for words, looked at Rossi. "I don't know."

"He also leaves something with his victims…." He clarified.

"I… Looked over your whole apartment. Nothing felt out of place."

"Where are my clothes?"

With his laboured breathing, he watched as Emily pulled his blood-stained garments over to the bed. Latching onto his badge, Aaron felt his breath hitch as his worst fear was confirmed.

Haley and Jack.

He knew where they lived.

"You guys go; I'll stay here," Emily reassured them, moving back over to her seat as the others left. Hotch followed her with his eyes, his attention diverting between the picture of Haley and Jack and Prentiss. "Hey… Everything's going to be okay."

"I knew he'd come back," he answered, not letting his gaze fall off the picture.

It wasn't fair… Letting them get involved when it was his fight.

"Aaron…" Emily whispered, "please don't think this is your fault. You couldn't have possibly known he'd come back for you."

"It's personal for him, Em. It was from the moment I started investigating his murders."

Taking one last glance at the picture, Aaron gave in to the soft lull of sleep with Emily watching over him, feeling so helpless.


She didn't realise how hard it already was, having to watch his laboured breathing, seeing all his pain etched into his brow as he worried about Haley and Jack. This is what Foyet wanted… He didn't want Aaron dead because watching him in pain is what got him off. And the mere thought of it disgusted Emily.

Hotch had become somewhat of an anchor for her. Boy, some days he tested her, especially regarding their difference in opinions with work. Despite that, though, Emily enjoyed the banter and his tough love. Knowing she'd have to somehow anchor him in possibly the worst period of his life daunted her. Because she knew that whatever the outcome was with Haley and Jack, Hotch would be separated from them either way. And he was like a lost little puppy without his son.

As she cocked her head to the side, Emily noticed him struggling to breathe in sleep. And second by second, the heart rate monitor started to race like a ticking time bomb. Immediately, she called for the nurse, begging them to do anything to ease his pain. All the machines calmed down as he awoke from whatever nightmare he was in, along with gentle reassurance from him that he was okay.

She wanted to cry as the doctor asked her to step outside the room. Just to see him lying there, obviously at his weakest, and not knowing what she could do to ease his pain was already tearing up her insides.

It sucked.

And it would do for however long it took to catch Foyet.

She had to be strong, though. For him… For Jack. It'd be a harrowing journey, but she refused to let one person completely ruin it for him.


It took all of Aaron's composure to not crumble in front of his son.

As he sat with his little boy on the bed, glancing up at him so concerned, Hotch realised just how grown up his little boy had become.

He credited that all to Haley. She'd been there 24/7, changed double the number of diapers he'd ever changed, and dropped and picked him up from daycare every day. Still comforted their little boy at her most rock-bottom. Captured his first steps, all his little milestones on camera. Raised him to be a courteous, well-behaved, intelligent little boy.

She'd done that all by herself.

And Aaron couldn't have been prouder of both Haley and their son.

It hurt him in every way, knowing there was a possibility it could be years before he saw Jack again. The pain of that thought worse than the nine stab wounds Foyet had inflicted upon his body.

Taking in every little detail of his little boy, Aaron planted a tender kiss on his forehead before Haley scooped him up in her arms and whisked him away.

Suddenly the world seemed so much lonelier… Not even the picture of them both together igniting a smile.