"I felt so much I started to feel nothing." - Anon


Mid-June 2009

After returning home and packing herself a night bag, Emily stopped by Hotch's apartment to grab a few things. The Bureau techs had cleaned the place, scrubbed the blood out of the carpet, and dusted for prints wherever they could.

Of course, they hadn't found any evidence of Foyet's whereabouts. But a new high-tech security alarm would be installed in his apartment, which may have been the only bonus of a prolific serial killer breaking into your home. Personally, Emily didn't understand why Hotch would even want to come back after what happened. Not that it mattered for the next few weeks, he'd be moving into her apartment while he recuperated.

As she returned to the hospital, she was surprised to see that Aaron had been moved to a different room. When she found them, Rossi was sat next to Hotch's bed as he slumbered, keeping himself entertained with one of his geeky crossword puzzles.

"You sure you'll be okay tonight?" He asked, closing the magazine.

With a slight wobble to her breath, Emily merely nodded as she dropped the bags to the floor. "I will be… Hotch, on the other hand-"

Dave followed her gaze to Aaron, passed out to the world.

"I… I don't know. I don't know how to even… Feel like I'm there for him after everything that's happened today."

"Emily. Simply being here is more than enough for him."

She nodded, crossing her arms together as she licked her lips. "You'll be back tomorrow?"

"Call me if you need a break, ma belle."

With that, Rossi left the room, leaving Emily at the foot of Hotch's bed, looking around. The room was much smaller than the one before, but at least it included an ensuite bathroom and a TV. Her gaze fell to the fold-out sofa she'd be using as a bed to Aaron's right; she could see one of the orderlies had already provided her with sheets. Luckily, the brunette also brought her special woollen blanket from home for warmth. She knew from experience just how freezing the wards could get.

Trying her best not to wake up Aaron, she figured out how to unfold the sofa before making a temporary bed for the night. It was quaint and didn't look all comfortable, but whoever slept well in the hospital anyway?

Feeling the day's exhaustion catch up with her, Emily lay down on her bed, letting her gaze fall to Aaron, seemingly resting peacefully. She hoped that his calm expression on the outside reflected how he felt internally.

Before she knew it, Emily had completely passed out on the sofa, only being interrupted 40 minutes later by a nurse coming in to check Hotch's vitals. It pleased her to see him awake, although anyone could see pain inebriating his expression.

As soon as the nurse left the room, Emily sat on the edge of his bed. Slowly but surely, her fingers graced his jawline, tracing up and down from his chin to temple, examining every little crease, every frow. It was the first time they'd properly seen each other without the invasion of their team and random medical personnel bombarding their room.

"I'm okay…." Aaron whispered tiredly, already reading her thoughts. He rested his hand against her thigh while she searched every part of his expression.

She let a hopeless sigh fall from her lips. "I know you are… But I also know you're sad. And frustrated. And… Traumatised. And I don't want you to bottle that in." Emily confessed, rubbing her thumb softly along his stubble. "Because it's a lot for one person to handle."

"I'm not ready to talk about it…."

"That's okay," Emily murmured, her hand slowly moving down to his chest, over his heart, near his swollen and tender wounds. "Whenever you're ready."

Moving his bandaged left hand over hers, Aaron squeezed against her palm. He watched as she swallowed a large lump in her throat.

"I really missed you today… At one point, I thought…." She breathed a heavy sigh. "You know what, I don't wanna say it."

"You can say it, Em," he prodded, almost too calmly for her liking.

Her face contorted from expressions of sadness to denial and anger, all in a matter of seconds. "I thought I'd find your body."

Aaron nodded, continuing to squeeze her hand. "I'm sorry…."

Emily closed her eyes, using her other hand to rub at her temple. She almost wanted to laugh. Giggle away at the ridiculousness of the situation. No parent should ever have to hide away their kid because a serial killer had the potential to harm them. No decent and genuine human being ever deserved to be tormented, traumatised and left to live with the debris. And no partner ever deserved to barge into their lover's home expecting to see the worst unfold right in front of them.

It simply wasn't fair.

None of it was fair.

"No… I'm sorry," Emily admitted. "Here I am, trying to support you, and I'm rambling on about my feelings. How are you feeling? Do you need any meds? Hungry?"

Letting out a subtly pained breath, Aaron shook his head. "Em… It's okay. I want to hear about you."

As the brunette let her hand slide gently across his chest, she detected a slight shudder. Instantly, Emily felt terrible. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry…."

"It's fine," he muttered back numbly. "Gotta get used to it somehow."

"You up to eating?"

He shook his head.

"Chicken broth?"

"I just wanna sleep, Em."

"Okay." She nodded, edging herself slightly closer to him and grazing the back of her hand against his jawline until he was well and truly in a deep sleep. As darkness succumbed the room, the steady rhythmic tones of the ECG masked the sounds of his peaceful snores.


As expected, neither Hotch nor Emily had a restful night of sleep. If it wasn't the nurses and doctors coming in every hour to check his temperature and dose up on painkillers, it was random malfunctions with the ECG machine, causing it to beep manically for minutes at a time. In the end, Emily was half tempted to disconnect every cable from the man and lock everyone out. She didn't even understand why they still needed him connected to the bloody machine. His blood pressure was fine, and his pulse only spiked when he had a nightmare.

By morning, the brunette felt more exhausted than when she first arrived. Not to mention snappier whenever medical personnel barged their way in. But it didn't compare to anything Aaron felt. She could tell everything was finally starting to catch up with him. Body aches were becoming more prevalent, and codeine and antibiotics were making him drowsy and nauseous. All Emily could do was sit on the edge of his bed, rubbing his hand as he continued to sleep on and off throughout the morning, occasionally jolting awake in pain.

Then there was his psychological trauma, on top of all that, which Aaron had no interest in talking about. And Emily wasn't expecting him to so soon after everything transpiring. Knowing him, it'd be a few weeks before he decided to open up about his trauma, if at all.

It was a waiting game… And she'd have to be patient.

Rossi and Morgan popped in about 9am to sit with Hotch for a few hours while Emily travelled back home to run some errands. She tried napping, seeing as though she was only running on a few hours of interrupted sleep, but no matter how hard she tried, sleep couldn't seduce her. In the end, she went grocery shopping and bought a few supplies for when Hotch would be discharged.

So long as no infections developed and his wounds healed nicely; hopefully, it'd be in the next few days. Either way, Emily was mentally preparing herself for the worst.

It brightened her mood to see him alert and wide awake when she returned to the ward later that evening. And his appetite seemed to have returned as he sipped on hot chicken broth for tea, allowing a soft rose tone to return to his cheeks.

"You know you don't have to spend the night here with me every night," Hotch told her, watching the brunette stab randomly at the practically stale hospital food they'd served for dinner.

"Why wouldn't I?" She questioned back, almost offended he'd made the statement.

"I just mean you don't have to be here if there are other things you need to do."

"Hotch, it's fine… You know I'll just worry about you if I go home. Besides, everything I needed to get done has been sorted. You can't get rid of me that easily," she joked, pushing her dinner away. "Although, this shit they serve might. I'd wish they'd put our taxes into edible hospital food, considering we spend half our lives here. I mean, how can people get better by eating this crap?"

"The chicken broth was fine," Aaron added casually, secretly enjoying hearing his girlfriend rant about her first-world problems.

"They probably bought it from the supermarket and passed it off as theirs…."

The comment had Aaron subtly grinning.

"This jello here, though… Definitely store-bought. You want some?"

Hotch shook his head, glancing out the window as Emily stuffed her face with it. His mind wandered to Jack. It was 7pm. Wherever he was, Haley would be reading stories to him in preparation for bedtime. He'd be fighting going to sleep as he was still adjusting to the recent change in daylight savings. Or maybe they were in a completely different time zone, eating his favourite macaroni and cheese for dinner.

That feeling of being disconnected… Of not knowing… Not being able to call and check up on them. Or simply hang out with his son for a few days… The only way Aaron could begin to describe it was an overwhelming numbness. As if he'd lost a limb.

What scared him most was how long this feeling would last. It could be a few days. It could be another couple of weeks. Weeks would turn into months. Knowing Foyet, it would likely be years before Aaron even saw Jack again.

He tried to not let that thought permeate through his head. But it was like a broken record, etching into every neuron. In fact, the last nightmare hadn't been about Foyet… It had been about Jack.

"Hey…" Emily interrupted his thoughts, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. "You okay?"

He nodded shyly, wincing a little as he readjusted himself upright. Even with strong medication, his wounds still gave him a slight twinge. "I feel useless just sitting here while Jack and Haley are out there, hiding because of my mistake."

"Hotch, you were… Stabbed 9 nine times, barely 48 hours ago. You need to give yourself time to process and heal from that. And don't think for one second that anything Foyet did is your fault. Remember, he wants you to feel this way. It's his way of torture."

"And he won't stop at nothing to harm you as well," Aaron added bluntly. "He knows about us, Emily. He knows you're a vulnerability to me. Given any chance, he'll-"

"Aaron. We're safe… I'm safe," she quickly clarified. "We've got marshals on watch outside the hospital and your apartment. Every cop and every agency knows his face. Everybody is on the hunt for this guy."

"Emily, you know what he is capable of. He broke out of a federal high-security prison and got away. He broke into my apartment without anybody noticing and nearly killed me. But he didn't. My point is that it doesn't matter how many federal officers and marshals are on surveillance. He WILL evade them. It's in his profile."

She nodded, releasing a heavy sigh. "I'm aware of that… But does that mean we're supposed to just hide from him? In fear every day? That's WHAT HE WANTS us to do. I know you don't want me involved in this, Hotch, but I'm not going anywhere. No matter what happens, I'm going with you to the end."

"You need to be careful," Aaron reminded her, his serious and no-bullshit tone reminding Emily of her early days at the BAU. "He did this…." He pointed to his chest, completely covered in dressing. "This is only the tip of the iceberg."

"Well…" Emily said, gulping as she saw the blood stains seeping through the bandages. "We have some time to prepare. And we'll be ready for him when he does."