Author's Note: Finally, Gingerbread!
This one is for Baobei and if anyone's been looking for this story, you can all thank her for gently nudging me to put it back on the frontburner.
Picking up a few hours after we left them going to bed.
The One Before the End
Emily bolted upright in bed.
OH GOD!
The scream caught in her throat as her hands ran frantically over her face, trying to stop the bleeding.
No, Em . . . she tried to calm herself . . . no, it was just a dream. Just a . . . a shudder ran through her body . . . just a horrible, horrible dream.
Unfortunately this was not the first time that she'd had this particular horrible dream. The one where the man with the straight razor screams "WHORE!" right before he slashes her across the face. This had happened probably a half a dozen times since the threat had arrived. And because they still didn't know who had sent the note, her subconscious had no details to draw upon in her nightmares.
So the man in her dreams never had a face.
It made it worse somehow, like he was some horror movie boogeyman. A mythical creature that couldn't be stopped by conventional law enforcement.
Emily moaned as she pushed herself back against the headboard . . . yeah, that wasn't the brightest thought to focus on in the semi-darkness surrounding her.
She took a breath, holding it for a second before she slowly exhaled. Then she bit her lip.
The house was much too quiet.
Though she loved coming out here, the one huge downside to the lodge right now, was that there was nothing to distract her from the horrible images in her mind. At least when this dream had hit her at her parents' house she had woken up to hear the traffic, the horns . . . the regular city noises that had set her at ease. It reminded her of normality, that the images were just pictures in her mind. But right now things didn't feel normal.
She just felt isolated and alone.
And given that there were no external stimuli to focus on, for a few minutes Emily tried just going with a mind over matter approach. Continuing with the deep breaths while she clutched the sweat dampened sheet between her clammy fingers.
That approach wasn't working though.
The fact that that she was alone in a house that had the equivalent background noise as a coffin, was NOT helping her stress levels.
But then suddenly she remembered that she wasn't really alone. Yes, she was physically by herself, but Aaron was right next door.
She wasn't sure about waking him up though.
Even if she had gone into his room for the thunderstorm, that was a different scenario. That was an 'ongoing situation' and she'd been completely freaking out. But a bad dream was something else . . . it came and it went. And the end had already passed, so she should be strong and move on from it. She should put it behind her.
Because that's what Prentiss' did.
Her eyes started to sting. Unfortunately though she just couldn't put one behind her, because this nightmare was hanging around. And even though she was wide awake and she knew that the terrible images in her head were only manufactured by her imagination, it wasn't making those images any less real. And though it pained her to admit it even to herself . . . she was scared of that boogeyman. Terrified really. Because it wasn't difficult at all to imagine him stalking her out in the countryside. After all, that's where the Boogeyman always showed up.
When you were out in the woods.
For another minute she leaned against the headboard trying to push all of that horror away. Finally though, she took a breath and pushed back the sheet . . . Aaron had told her that could wake him up for anything.
Hopefully he'd really meant it.
And with that hope carrying her out of bed, Emily got up and quietly circled out of her room and over into Aaron's.
The one thing that she was relieved about, was that unlike last night, with their new romantic relationship now she didn't have to stand in his doorway like some weirdo stalker. So once she'd stepped over the threshold, she started immediately across his bedroom.
But when she saw him lying there sleeping in the glow of the little nightlight, she unexpectedly stopped short.
She'd never climbed into bed with a man before.
Before Aaron, she hadn't actually been in the position for the situation to even come up. And though they had slept together on the couch, that was different.
More innocent.
This though . . . she took a breath . . . this was grown up. So Emily stood there for a second while she tried to mentally adjust to this new way of living her life.
As an adult.
Unfortunately though, her simple pause had done more than just given her a second to steel her nerve . . . it started her thinking. She began worrying that Aaron would forget that she wasn't ready to go all the way yet. That he might think that she was climbing into his bed at three something in the morning, because she had changed her mind and wanted to have sex with him.
Really though, that's why most girls her age would be visiting their new EXTREMELY attractive boyfriends in the middle of the night.
But . . . she bit her lip worriedly . . . she wasn't most girls. And as much as she liked him, she just wasn't ready to sleep with him yet. And that was going to be VERY awkward if she had to have that no sex conversation with him, again. Actually it would probably be even more embarrassing to have to do it under the covers than it had been when they were just talking on the couch.
And that conversation had COMPLETELY sucked!
Oh geez . . . she started to feel a bit of panic . . . now what should she do? She didn't want to go back to her own room, but she didn't want him to think that she was a big tease either.
As Emily stood there nervously chewing on her lip, debating next steps, suddenly Aaron rolled over in his sleep. It was the first time that she could clearly see his face illuminated in the small yellow glow.
And seeing his handsome features immediately pushed away her worries about what he would think. Because she realized then that it was stupid to be so nervous. Because not only was she not just any girl, but he wasn't just any guy.
This was Aaron.
He was a gentleman. A true gentleman. That was initially part of what had attracted her to him. He was sweet and nice, and he was the one that told her to never feel pressured to do something that she didn't want to do. Her eyes started to sting.
He said that if a guy really liked her that he'd stay with her no matter what.
Okay . . . she blinked the moisture away . . . so that cleared that up. He definitely wasn't going to think that her climbing into bed with him meant that she was leading him on or anything like that. Her eyes dropped down to her gauzy cotton nightgown . . . he wasn't going to expect anything physically more from her now than what had happened between them already.
And once Emily had completely convinced herself that Aaron wasn't going to try to ravish her like one of the heroes in her cheesy bodice ripping Harlequin romances, she slowly let out her breath and crossed the rest of the way over to the bed. Then she leaned down and whispered his name.
"Aaron."
His eyes snapped open directly onto hers.
"What's wrong?" His voice was scratchy as he sat up and looked around blearily, "another storm."
No . . . he listened . . . everything seemed quiet. Then he saw Emily giving him a nervous smile.
"No, no storm. Um," she stammered slightly, "I uh, I had a nightmare. Could I . . . uh . . ."
And she couldn't quite get the rest out.
It wasn't that she was still nervous about his reaction, she'd dealt with that concern, it was just that when she began to utter the words aloud, she realized how asinine she sounded.
She wanted to know if she could sleep with him because she had a bad dream.
It made her sound so foolish, like she was a small child who couldn't distinguish fact from fiction. And that was especially true given that she had finally left her bed only after she'd acknowledged to herself that she was afraid of the boogeyman in her dreams.
The boogeyman.
God . . . she felt a wave of embarrassment . . . she'd rather die than to say than that aloud to anyone. Even Aaron. So she immediately straightened up and started to shake her head.
"You know what, never . . ."
But then her voice faltered again when he reached out and took her hand. His expression softened as he asked quietly, "do you want to sleep with me?"
Their eyes locked for a moment as she considered the tone of his voice . . . no derision, no annoyance. So she nodded slowly.
"Um, yes . . . please," she whispered haltingly, "if you don't mind."
Though a moment ago she was ready to leave, looking into those warm brown eyes all she could see there was concern and affection. And all of her other worries about what he'd think of her, faded away.
Because just being there with him was making her feel better.
Aaron's eyes crinkled at the nerves he could hear in Emily's voice.
"Of course I don't mind," he responded with a soft smile as he lifted up his blanket. "Come on," he shifted back on the mattress, "plenty of room."
Though he was sorry for the tension that he could see on her face, he was at least relieved that she'd come to him. That she'd seen that his offer to wake him if something was wrong had been sincere.
A relieved smile graced Emily's lips as she climbed in next to him.
"Thanks," she whispered while watching Aaron pull the sheet and light blanket back up to now cover both of them.
"No problem," Aaron murmured back as he gave her a soft look. And she knew then that he was letting her decide what she wanted to do . . . if she wanted to move closer, or just stay on her own side of the bed.
And as a result of his sensitivity on this point . . that he even understood that this WAS a point of sensitivity . . . she felt a wave of affection rise up. One that resulted in her pressing an impulsive kiss to his cheek.
As she'd hoped, just because she'd come to him in the middle of the night, he had no expectations of her. So she moved over and curled up at his side like she had downstairs on the couch.
It was the one place where she felt safe.
/*/*/*/
Once Aaron thought that Emily seemed comfortable, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and leaned down to kiss the top of her head.
"Do you want to tell me about your dream?" he whispered in the semi-dark.
If it was upsetting enough to not only wake her up, but then KEEP her up and drive her into his room, it must have been pretty traumatizing.
"Um," her hand slowly moved up to rest on his stomach, "it's just the same nightmare that I've been having since the threat came. You know, since I saw the photo with the uh," she cleared her throat, "slash marks. I'm out in public, it feels like downtown and I'm in a crowd, and suddenly I hear my name. Then I turn and there's a man there." Her voice started to get strained, "and even though he's right in front of me, he has no face."
The last word came out pinched and louder than the rest. And Emily stopped for a second to get her emotions under control. She immediately felt Aaron press a kiss to her temple and she felt that little wave of panic roll back again.
So she took another breath.
"And before I know what's happening he uh . . ." she swallowed, "uh slashes me across the face with a razor. It happens again and again and I'm screaming but nobody helps me, nobody stops him, and then," she slowly exhaled, "then I wake up." She was silent for a second before she came back more firmly. "I know it's stupid but I'm always touching my face when I wake up. Trying to make sure there's no blood."
Before Aaron could respond, she continued matter of factly.
"It's a straight razor. It's always a straight razor, you know like the kind they used to use in barber shops. Like in that movie The Untouchables."
That was probably where she got the image. Not that the added detail was going to help Aaron catch her would be assailant. But for some reason she felt the need to clarify the theoretical weapon for him. Really though . . . her fingers twisted in his t-shirt . . . a straight razor was a VERY disturbing weapon. Somehow it was even worse than just a knife. Anyone could get a knife, it was a weapon of convenience, but somebody had to seek out the blade that she was seeing in her assailant's hand. And dream creation or not . . . it was still unsettling.
Hearing the slight quiver in Emily's voice as she recounted the nightmarish assault, Aaron felt a wave of sympathy for her.
Poor thing. No wonder she was still up.
And once he was sure that she was done talking, that she'd gotten it all out, he kissed her temple again. And then he whispered back what he hoped was the reassurance that would help her sleep.
"You know," he said softly, "that most likely the person who sent that threat is just some crackpot. He just saw that one picture in the magazine and he doesn't know you or where you live. Hell, he could be out in Timbuktu for all we know. But besides that though," his fingers ran slowly along her arm, feeling the soft, flowy material of her nightgown, "even if he's not in Timbuktu, you know that I'm with you all the time. And nothing bad is going to happen to you as long as I'm around," he squeezed her tightly for a second, "right?"
Part of him worried that these dreams were coming to her because . . . on some level . . . she didn't believe that he could truly protect her. And though he knew that she couldn't control her subconscious any more than he could control his, that still bothered him. That he hadn't done enough to assure Emily that he could take of her.
To assure her that she was always safe with him.
But hopefully that wasn't the case. Hopefully this was just a bad dream. Because if those things were true . . . if that gap in her trust did exist . . . that was something he would need to work on. Otherwise they were never going to be able to have any kind of personal relationship when this was all over.
Emily's eyes crinkled slightly as she looked up and nodded at him, "right."
And this was why she'd come to him.
When she was here lying with him , listening to him whisper in her ear, all of her fears . . . dream based fears especially . . . seemed so silly. If somebody smashed through the door right now, she knew that Aaron's gun was under the pillow. And when they were out, it was on his hip. So if somebody tried to come after her with a blade she knew exactly what the outcome would be.
Live federal agent = dead attacker.
And that's because gun beat razor every day of the week.
Aaron winked back at her.
"Smart girl. Now," he moved his hand up to stroke his fingers through her hair, "if you think you can sleep now, why don't you close your eyes. I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere.
Emily stared at him for a moment before she used his chest to leverage herself up and give him a kiss.
"Thank you for not making me feel stupid," she whispered while tracing her fingertip along his cheek.
His eyes widened in surprise.
"Emily, no matter what happened, I would never think that you were stupid. You're one of the smartest people I've ever met." He pulled her down into another kiss before murmuring against her lips. "And there's no shame in being frightened of a bad dream," he pulled back slightly, brushing her hair back behind her ear, "I used to see some terrible things at the DA's office, so trust me when I say that I've had plenty of bad dreams myself. So you should never worry that I'll think that you're silly for being frightened of the scary stuff in your head, because I have a lot of scary stuff in my head too. And I know how real things can seem sometimes. So even after this is over and you're back in your own apartment, if you have a bad dream you can still call me and I'll sit up with you and we can talk until you feel better," he gave her a soft smile, "okay?"
If only she knew some of the things that he'd seen just in his first six months at the DA's Office. Babies beaten by their mothers, hookers battered by their pimps, wives used as regular punching bags by their 'loving spouses.' And then he'd graduated to class A felonies . . . rapes and homicides.
There were just too many horrors, that was why he'd left that job. The same names would come up time and again, and it never seemed like he was making a real difference. Everything was pled down, nobody ever received a punishment commiserate with his crime, and then he'd started getting the desire to mete out more than just paper justice. He wanted to start catching the bad guys himself, and not just getting dirty looks from the cops when they found out that the best sentence he'd been able to get to avenge the brain damaged five year old was her father getting three years in county.
He'd considered joining the police force but he'd known that wouldn't have been good enough for his father. And really . . . with all due respect to the local officers who he knew busted their asses . . . he did have a degree from Harvard. And it would have been kind of a waste not to do anything with that but use it as a dust collector on the wall.
The Bureau had been ideal for him though. It allowed him to use his education, but still fulfill that desire to start kicking ass in a less metaphorical way.
Emily's eyes started to tear up as she looked down at him.
"Okay," she whispered back with a watery smile.
As first real boyfriends went, she'd definitely hit the jackpot here. And when he reached up to wipe the moisture from the corner of her eye she began to realize just how attached she was becoming to him.
So much so that when he tugged her down into his arms, she suddenly flashed on his plans to join hostage rescue. And that's when she felt a little stab of fear that something could happen and she'd lose him before they even had a chance to try and make this work.
That fear tried to take root but then she reminded herself that she'd known from the first day that she met him just how dangerous his job was. After all he was there to protect her from a death threat! And that hadn't stopped her from developing her initial little crush.
Though admittedly that little crush was now starting to develop into much more.
Realizing then that she was already in way over her head with him, Emily pushed away her worries for now, instead just focusing in on the feeling of him holding her in his arms as his fingers stroking through her hair.
She wasn't going to ruin the moment by worrying about things that hadn't happened yet. When this was all over and they got home and started doing this dating thing for real . . . or at least like normal people dated without getting paranoid and afraid when they stepped out the front door . . . maybe they could talk about her concerns then.
Okay . . . feeling herself start to relax even more, Emily snuggled in closer, releasing her grasp on his t-shirt as she slid her arm over to wrap around his torso . . . she was going to put all of these worries . . . real, dream state and future career plans included . . . out of her head for now.
For right now all she needed to focus on was the fact that Aaron was here, Aaron's gun was here and Aaron and his gun would keep them both safe.
And that . . . she closed her eyes . . . was a good note to leave it on for tonight.
Feeling the tension leave Emily's body, Aaron sighed as he tugged her in a little closer. And then he felt her small hand move across his stomach and he kissed her temple again.
This was something that he hadn't done with Haley in forever . . . just been happy to cuddle up in the dark. Though he hated that Emily was being haunted by these images, he couldn't deny that having her with him this way was showing him another glimpse at a possible future with her.
And simply having that glimpse was enough to make him happy in a way that he hadn't been with Haley in months.
That made him a little sad that a relationship that had once meant so much to him had petered into nothing. But . . . he shook his head slightly . . . there was nothing to be done about that now. And then he reminded himself that if things hadn't fallen apart with Haley, then he wouldn't be in the position he was now with Emily in his arms.
And he absolutely no regrets about that turn of events, so perhaps he needed to let the other stuff go. What was was, and what is is, and he just needed to stay in the present.
As the minutes ticked passed, and he felt Emily's breaths begin to even out, her earlier words started to run through his mind.
A straight razor . . . his jaw suddenly clenched as a few images flashed in his brain . . . that wasn't the way he'd pictured it.
In his dreams it was a box cutter.
Not that he was planning on ever sharing his nightmares with her, but still, having another scenario to run through his mind wasn't something he really needed. This was only the third solo assignment he'd had at the Bureau, and with each new charge he always felt that responsibility weighing on him. But Emily was the first one that had resulted in these visceral night terrors.
They'd started on his third day with her, and that was about the point where he'd started to see that his attachment was becoming more than simply professional.
It had been a downward slide from there.
Though ordinarily he'd worry that his personal feelings were clouding their interactions, he knew that in this instance what he had said to her tonight was the absolute truth.
As long as he was with her then she was completely safe, everything was fine.
Nobody could hurt her.
Though none of those things were in doubt, as he lay there . . . now with Emily's version of the nightmare running a live video stream in his brain . . . Aaron knew that he wasn't getting back to sleep anytime soon.
His eyes shifted down to the sleeping girl next to him, and then to the alarm clock just to her other side.
The bright red numbers told him it was 4:36 a.m.
Okay . . . he listened to the silence around him . . . if sleeping was out, what was he going to do for the next two hours?
He most definitely did not want to get up. For one thing, he had a beautiful girl wrapped around his side. But for another thing, the beautiful girl in question was wrapped around his side because she had a bad dream.
And there's nothing to say that she couldn't have another.
If that happened he just didn't want her to wake up alone again. So as he lay there with Emily sleeping soundly in his arms and these nasty images in his head, Aaron tried to think of something to clear his mind.
Their date!
The idea popped into his head and he nodded to himself . . . yes, that was perfect. Something nice and pleasant . . . and most importantly, Emily focused . . . to look forward to.
Let's see . . . he started making plans . . . they had covered culinary preferences in their lengthy 'getting to know you' discussion before they went to bed, so he at least knew what she liked and didn't like for cuisine. Now the question was, for the first big 'official we can now see each other like regular people' date . . . should he make dinner or take her out?
'Take her out.'
The little voice in the back of his brain seemed pretty confident. And as Aaron thought about it, he again nodded to himself . . . yeah, that probably would be best. This security situation had made her a virtual prisoner, she wasn't even living in her own home . . . neither of them were . . . so he should definitely celebrate the end of her confinement (and his) by actually taking her OUT of the house.
There would be time for romantic dinners at home later.
Besides, it probably would be best to save at home romantic dinners until the physical elements of their relationship had crossed over the next boundary. Though he was perfectly fine taking cold showers until she was ready to move to another step, if he didn't put himself into complicated situations . . . complicated situations defined here as constantly being alone together in one of their apartments with candles and soft music . . . then he'd probably have less cold showers to take.
He huffed.
Yeah, that sounded like some stellar logic to him.
So, focusing in again on the first big night, maybe for the date he'd take her to a nice restaurant and then The National Gallery. Emily had said that was one of her favorite places to go so she'd definitely enjoy that for their first official outing. And then the next time . . . and without a doubt there would be many more next times . . . they could go to the movies. And then later there were always art museums, the Botanical Gardens or the Smithsonian exhibits.
Perhaps . . . his lip quirked up slightly before he yawned . . . they could even go to the zoo.
Emily liked the lions.
That was something that he'd learned tonight. Actually all of those places, were ones that he'd learned tonight were places that she liked to go. And those were all activities that would help them to have more time to get to know each other. The bonus of course was keeping him from getting blue balls in the process.
And that . . . Aaron's eyes started to fall shut . . . was definitely a major plus.
A/N 2: Short note because I have to go to bed because I am relocating my entire life in the morning. So yes, in the effort to explore different reasons for their decisions in the universe, I see Aaron being less 'enchanted' with the grislier aspects of his work at the DA's office. That this version of him with the dad and brother who are both 'big damn hero' soldiers, that he'd be more taken with the physical elements of his job where he could just black and white catch the bad guys. That perhaps canon Hotch also was driven to the FBI because of what he saw as a prosecutor, but he was more taken by the "why" and this version of him doesn't so much care why as he just wants to lock them up. And I don't think I will send this version of him to the BAU, I like the idea of them making different choices and perhaps being able to live happier because of it.
Writing this more innocent Emily is fun. It wasn't until I was about to have her climb into bed with him when I stopped in my head and pictured being her and like 'whoa, this a new thing,' and realized that she would pause for a second, and then Emily being Emily would start to have a panic attack about something else. But again, that seems logical as well. Girl climbs into your bed in the middle of the night, most guys are going to think they're getting lucky. Thank God Aaron's a gentleman! :)
