"So-" Emily's scowling at one of the vending machines, Jack on her hip. "They've only got one pack of those black forest gummies," she says, looking over him. "You gonna be stingy with the gummies?" she peers closer to the glass. "We can go halves and I'll get the gummy worms too?" Of course, she's mostly- really- talking to herself but there's not much else left to do.

They'd trusted her to watch after Jack. The whole FBI thing is definitely working in her favor but if she cared enough to get Hotch to the hospital and sit in the waiting room for the upwards of two hours then Jack is pretty safe with her. Besides, Dave left the minute he showed up and when Penelope and Reid had finally arrived at the hospital they'd been quick to follow back in the direction of Hotch.

But Emily knew that had to do with Dave "fucking his way through problems" (definitely not her words- okay, she gives, Hotch had slipped up in a less than sophisticated moment of vulnerability and huffed it out while waiting for the oxygen canal running under his nose to do its job). So, in the end, whatever Dave was back there doing was of more danger than leaving Jack with her.

Jack gets a good old kick out of putting the dollars inside the vending machine. The happy squeal he lets out each time the machine whirs to life and pulls the bill from his hands is priceless. Fortunately, he gets pretty sidetracked the moment his gummies hit the bottom of the machine.

"So," she guides him back to the blanket on the floor. He's got this fancy little spread- the blanket is padded and it's pretty comfortable to sit on. "What's your favorite food?"

Jack's already got two gummies shoved into his little mouth, chomping away. He perks up when he hears a familiar word. "Food," he repeats, plopping down on the blanket. He curls his legs underneath his body and brings his right hand to his mouth. He repeats food again, making the sign.

Is… is he signing the word food to her?

She's stumped for a moment but instead of just googling it to find out, she just presses on with her original question. "What's your favorite food, Jack?" She brushes his hair up out of his face, smiling at him.

He smiles right back- he's got his father's dimples. "Jaunzanya," he informs her.

What- Jaun… zanya…

"What, buddy?"

He looks up at her like she's the one being silly. "Lawnzanya."

Lasagna! "Oh!" she nods, "you like lasagna."

He nods and offers her a gummy. It's pinched between wet and sticky fingers because toddlers are disgusting but so adorable. "No thank you," she says tapping his hand so that he pulls his offer back to himself. Leaning away from him, she opens his diaper bag. "Oh, you've got-"

"-egos!"

So, he's a legos fan. That makes this so much easier.

He crawls and sits in her lap, and together they build a wall. It's very colorful but the proper manner of legos is lost to both of them. Besides, Jack just like matching the colors to each other.

"We're spending far too much time like this," Dave mumbles. "You and I." He huffs at the dirty look Aaron shoots his way. With a grunt, he moves himself to the edge of his seat. Closer to Aaron so that he can reach out and take his hand as he prepares to deliver this news. "I've, uh,..." he recalls the last time they were like this.

Aaron's heart was on the mend so they thought and he was making steady progress. That only been a few weeks ago but they'd been so hopeful. Then Dave had delivered the news about Haley. That she had not been spared the way he was in the final blows of that shooting. That she'd bled out in her classroom.

"Bad news or good news?" When Aaron lifts an eyebrow in confusion he mends, "do you want the bad news or the good news first."

Aaron looks up at the ceiling. Frowning at the harsh lights beaming down at him. "I'll take the bad first," he whispers, turning his head to watch Dave from there.

Dave nods his head. Straight to the point. "They want to place you on synthetic adrenaline," Dave informs him. Aaron nods. Doesn't seem all that bad. "You'll have to remain hospitalized while on the drug." He winces and Dave knows he's delivered that final blow. He gives him a moment to think. Watching as Aaron's fingers dance over his sternum, tracing where his heart is under his skin.

He turns back to Dave, "what's the good news?"

Dave knows better than to hope for Aaron to go unflinching into this new course of action. He hates being in the hospital and it's going to take a toll on his mental health. Dave's not sure if they can really win this situation.

He smiles, "your son's in the waiting room." Dave feels the mood lighten as Aaron smiles too. "I believe none-other-than your very pretty neighbor is sitting with him."

Aaron's still smiling as he groans, "Dave!"

The older man shrugs, still smiling. He's got to pull somebody's leg around here. Things are so damn gloomy. "So," Dave takes Aaron's hand. Giving it a light pat. "What's the course of action?"

The smile falls right off his face. "Oh," he looks away. "I-" he doesn't want to stay in the hospital. It doesn't matter if it buys him time. They're just dragging this all out and it's better… it's better if he stops fighting. The sooner their lives can go back to normal the better.

"Why don't I give you a minute to decide, huh?" Dave asks, squeezing his hand. "Let me go get your monster and Emily. You haven't seen either yet and you gave Emily quite the scare."

He nods. Right. Jack and Emily. Maybe bring a fraction of normalcy to this hell of a day.

Dave pats his hand, already knowing the answer. "Alright, kiddo." He stands, pushing his old knees into motion with an audible creak. He hovers for a moment, eyes cast to the side as he thinks. "You promise me you'll really think about it?" He looks down at Aaron, "I know… it's hard, I know son but you've still got people who want to see you through this." He sighs a little and pats Aaron's thigh, "brighten up, huh? Those bags under your eyes are bound to scare both of them off."

Rossi's smile is tight-lipped but the sentiment is still there.

The words are still heavy.

Hotch looks up at the ceiling. There's just not a point to keep going. Haley's dead. They'd gotten their divorce months before, actually nearly two years ago but she was still his friend. Still his high school sweetheart and the mother to his son…. Jack. He'll leave Jack an orphan at three years old.

He could fight for Jack, right? He could push through this and wait for a heart.

But the pain. It's excruciating.

"Daddy?"

He turns and smiles as Jack releases Emily's hand to come barreling into the room. Jack makes quick work at scaling up the side of the bed and Hotch is fully prepared for the toddler he takes to his side- Jack had learned his lesson about hitting daddy in the chest.

Hotch keeps looking up at the doorway, to where Rossi's tone has dropped to a hush as he speaks to Emily. To her credit, she doesn't react to anything he's saying.

"You played legos?" Hotch asks, reaching over and tickling Jack's sides. "Did you really play legos with Miss Emily?" He realizes his mood has been dramatically shifted with Jack here. He can't even think about rolling over and dying with Jack in his arms.

"Just Emily is fine," Emily says as she steps into the room, waving to Rossi as waves to the trio and leaves. "Really," she reiterates. "No need for silly formalities."

Jack isn't listening to them at all. He's curled into Hotch's side and managed to wrangle his thumb into his mouth.

Hotch runs his hand over the top of Jack's hair, smiling. "Dave told me you watched him today," he says. "Thank you, you shouldn't have had to do that."

Emily sits down in the chair by his bedside, she shrugs it off. She's pretty sure it's not that weird for neighbors to watch each other's kids. Besides, he would watch her if she had them. "He was basically an angel," she says, smiling back when Jack pokes his head and makes a happy little noise. "He's a cute little guy."

Hotch turns back to his son. God… she likes his kid? Stupid heart. Stupid dying heart.

She pulls her phone out, "besides I already know how you can repay me." She sits on the edge of the seat, "so the recipe we were going to cook-" She sticks her tongue out of her mouth as she concentrates on pulling it up on her phone. "It-uhm- It called for carmalized onions and so I have a question."

He smirks in preparation, knowing whatever it is that she's about to say is going to baffle him. How had she managed to get as far as she did in life not knowing how to cook or even bake?

"That doesn't mean to like… to like put caramel in the pan with the onions right?" She makes a face, grimacing because she knows this has to be a stupid question and because he's already smiling. It makes her cheeks get bright with embarrassment.

It doesn't take much but he laughs so hard he starts to wheeze. That dangerous chest clenching kind mixed with uncontrolled laughter. It's so bad a nurse peeks her head in to check on them and both of them get stink eye because of it. He's such a bad influence.

"Sorry," he rasps throat sore but a smile on his face. "No," he finally answers, having to make dramatic inhales in through his nose to compensate the breathless feeling. "No, you just kind of move the onions around th-" he waves his hand. "Forget it," he mumbles. "Dave can show you."

Her face drops.

"I-uh-" He knows it's because of her and Jack. This stupid feeling in his stomach is probably just another system of heart failure and not a crush. He knows they're the only reason. "They're going to start treating me with this medicine but I have to stay hospitalized for it."

She nods slowly, taking in what this will mean for her. "Okay," she nods her head. It could be worse. It could be so much worse. "Does that mean that I won't get to torture you with my awful food."

His chest aches too much to laugh so he just smiles and nods, "I'm sure you'll find something worse."

She smirks, "that's fair."

She doesn't see him after that for a whole week. To her credit, she starts her desk job back at the FBI Monday. When she checks her phone at her desk, she sees he's sent her a text: "I know you're due back today at work so I just wanted to wish you luck. At least you're not here with me. Dave is forcing me to go on a walk"

It makes her smile. So when she goes to acquire her second cup of coffee she replies: "I'm sorry Dave's being mean to you but my day is going pretty good. Thanks for checking up on me."

He's just been returned to his room when he gets her text. The simple walk around the walk takes it out of him. The adrenaline leaves him shaky and despite how bone-tired he is, Dave insists on keeping up a simple routine and lots of walking. He understands he needs to be strong for heart surgery but it's very taxing. He replies: "No problem. There's not much else to do around here besides think about what everyone else is doing."

It makes her stop in her track. She hadn't considered how bored he must be up there. There's nothing to do.

They keep up a daily exchange.

He sends her a picture of the toast he's given for breakfast.

She sends him a pciture of her coffee.

They talk about whatever simple exercise Hotch is forced to do. She learns he hates the gardens because of how people are there he feels like everyone's watching him struggle. She tells him that she feels similarly hopeless spending all her time at the desk.

At dinner, she live text him every minor thing about her cooking adventures.

He sends her a picture of jello or pudding and asks if he's going crazy if he actually considres wanting to trade with her.

Saturday comes around and- she has no idea what to do with herself.

From eight to ten she piddles in the yard. Leaves have started falling so she rakes them. Finishes her yard so she goes to Hotch's and starts getting his as well. It gets too hot by ten-thirty so she goes inside to make a nice brunch. She's trying not to burn waffles when she hears a car pull into Hotch's parking lot.

Fuck. She hasn't heard from Aaron in two days.

"Is everything alright?" She'd just pulled the plug on the waffle maker, running out of her house wiping pancake batter on her pants as she went. Messily, she pushes hair back out of her face. She looks like a hot mess.

Dave raises an eyebrow at the sight of her and, after a moment, goes back to his pace pre her running out at him. "It's as good as can be expected," he replies walking up the stairs to Hotch's home. He opens the door and waits for her, "you coming?"

She scurries in after him.

He pulls a bag out of the hall closet and keeps heading down the hall, looking back for her to follow the whole way. "I'm making Aaron a bag," he explains. "We have the emergency ones but he's running a little low on certain things and is threatening bodily harm is someone doesn't let him shave too."

She can't really imagine that; Hotch threatening someone.

Dave rolls his eyes as he throws Hotch's bedroom door open, "he's a drama queen."

Once again Emily is taken aback by Hotch's neat room. Everything carries a dark green pattern. The curtains are blackout which she finds to be both humorous and innovative. They're dark black but he's covered them in dark green curtains. By all means, it still looks like a single man's bedroom but… as if he'd lived with a woman. Well, to be fair, his taste in just about everything is better than hers.

Tasteful. Personal.

She likes it.

"Can you hand me the-" Emily follows Dave's finger to Hotch's bed. "Yeah, the throw blanket." The blanket he's asking for looks old and worn to the point it's hard to tell what it's original pattern was. "It's his favorite," Dave explains, packing it down into the bag.

The thought makes her grin. His favorite blanket.

Dave opens one of Hotch's dresser drawers, revealing a drawer for just sweatpants. When she sees the grey sweatpants he'd worn last week her cheeks flush. "So," Dave throws the grey sweats into the bag oblivious to Emily's reaction. "You gonna come and see him?"

Emily slowly exhales to force herself to calm down. Answer the man's question… what was his question? She goes with the awkward nod and smiles when he smiles- biting down the odd sense she's just tangled herself into a spider's web.

"Great!" He throws in a few books from a bookshelf Emily hadn't originally seen but now that she does she frowns at it. He's a collector, she'd assume. Lots of old books but a few classic Y/A novels. Even The Hunger Games. It's an impressive amount.

"I'm headed there now," he says. "I can put your name on his log so you can get up there anytime you like." He picks the bag up and throws it over his shoulder. "Or you could come now?"

Oh. So, Emily had agreed to seeing Hotch. In the hospital.

"Oh," she shakes her head. "I'll-uhm-"

Dave pats her shoulder, "it doesn't matter when you come over." His smile is soft. She knows he loves Aaron. Hotch had once made a comment about what all Dave had done for him as a kid but no one had told her the extinct. She's sure it's a lot.

He winks at her, "he'll be thrilled to see you, Emily. Everything seems to have him down except for those silly texts you two share."

And she'd by lying if she said she didn't think about that last line all day. That her text, something so silly and off the wall, were making him smile. Pulling out her phone she shoots him a simple message: "I'm gonna come visit you on Wednesday. Should I bring you tea or a milkshake?

She can hear the excitement in his text back: "Emily Prentiss are you sneaking me in contraband?... milkshake, please"

She rolls her eyes, "only if you go on your walk with Dave without whining about it like a giant baby".

"Hey, that's not very nice Emily… but I promise to be on my best behavior."

"Good."

She smiles down at her phone.

It's just as things are getting settles once again that they get worse.