I know I've made you wait waaaay too long for this chapter - I'm really sorry. This semester's been crazy!

"Emily... you haven't slept since Saturday night, have you? You haven't tried to sleep since Saturday night." Damnit! She'd known that sooner or later, she'd have to talk to him – that sooner or later, he'd be asking questions. But couldn't he wait after washing up their dishes? Or cleaning the kitchen? Or... Emily reached out for the two – now empty – bowls sitting on the table in front of them. "Just let me..." Hotch shook his head. "You're avoiding me." Of course she was. Emily sighed, knowing she didn't need to respond. The terrified look in her eyes gave her away.

"Please talk to me!" Hotch asked gently, and after a while, Emily did, knowing that she didn't really have a choice. "I... I can't sleep" She whispered but they both knew she was lying. Even sitting on this fairly uncomfortable kitchen chair, Emily was barely awake. If she allowed herself to close her eyes for even half a second, she'd fall asleep right away. The point was: She didn't even want to try. Didn't dare to try. And she knew he knew. Why did she have to be so predictable?

They sat in silence for another couple of minutes.

"How about a cup of tea?" Hotch suggested and sighed loudly when Emily didn't react. "You can prepare the tea yourself, if you want to..."

And again, she knew that he knew. She could tell by the look in his face. This understanding, accepting look. He knew why she had to be the one picking the food, knew why she had to be the one preparing it. The profiler-part of her brain told her how logical her reaction was: She had been drugged and raped, after all. So consequently, she'd be avoiding any situation where this could happen again by not accepting food or drinks from other people. Overcompensation. A desperate attempt of trying to make up for that complete loss of control by seemingly controlling everything now. Pathetic! Maybe if she stopped behaving like a victim, she would just stop being one? This was Hotch, for god's sake! He'd never hurt her, right?

"No, it's okay. Just pick whatever type you have" Emily replied bravely, trying not to be angry at the brief flash of surprise in his eyes. He didn't say anything, though. Just filled a kettle and then rummaged around in the kitchen drawers to find the tea bags.

Ten minutes later, they were sitting on the couch in his living room and Emily was trying to avoid talking to him by focusing on the cup of tea in her hands. She could feel him staring at her, mocking her. An unspoken I bet you won't dare to drink it seemed to hang in the air. Pah! As if she were that predictable! Emily took a large sip of her tea and burned her mouth. "Fuck!" She cursed, placing the mug on the couch table. "Be careful! It's still too hot!" Hotch commented unnecessarily.

Emily rolled her eyes and changed her position on the couch, unconsciously snuggling into the comfortable pillows behind her, tilting her head back just a tiny bit. What harm could it do? It wasn't like she was planning on talking to Hotch any time soon anyways!

*'*'*'*'*

The next thing she perceived was a shrill scream in a dark room. It took her a few seconds to process it was her own voice. Emily jerked when the room suddenly went bright. She could feel a gentle touch on her shoulder. "DON'T TOUCH ME!"

Hotch froze. "Emily? It's okay. It's just me!" She shrugged his hand off her shoulder. "Get away from me!" He gulped, alarmed and slowly knelt down to the ground next to the couch. "Emily?" He tried again. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up! I... I bumped my toe on my way out." The vague memory of a muffled curse shot through Emily's mind. "What happened?" She whispered timidly. The shakiness of her voice sent cold shivers down Hotch's spine. He sighed. "You agreed to sit down on the couch for a moment." She nodded. "You burned your mouth because the tea was still too hot. Then you lay back on the couch and fell asleep. Don't you remember?" Emily violently shook her head. "I don't remember, Hotch. I don't remember anything!" She screamed, her whole body shaking uncontrollably now. Hotch didn't say anything, knowing that this wasn't about waking up on his couch after barely ten minutes of sleep. This was about waking up in that disgusting motel room, remembering as much as she was wearing: nothing.

Emily tried to control her breathing, knowing she was on the verge of a panic attack. How could this have happened? How could she have allowed herself to lose control again? Emily's eyes wandered around in the room and then caught by the bright red mug on the couch table. The tea. That must be it! "You slipped something in my tea, didn't you?" She accused him, half-angrily, half-terrified. Hotch's mouth fell open. "How... how could you do that to me, Hotch?" His eyes widened in shock. "Emily!" He started. "I... I didn't do anything! You fell asleep the second your head hit the pillow! I didn't want to wake you up. I mean, you're exhausted! To be honest, I was glad you fell asleep so quickly! You've been awake for how many days now?"

"So you didn't... drug me?" She asked insecurely. Hotch vehemently shook his head and Emily bit her lip, slowly realizing how absurd her accusation was. "I'd never do that!" How could she even suggest that? She was biting her nails now, visibly conflicted.

"Emily?" Hotch asked softly.
"I need to hear you say it." She all but whispered.
Hotch frowned. "Say what?"

Silence.

"Emily?"
She avoided his gaze, unable to look him in the eyes. "That you didn't touch me, didn't... do anything while I was out." Hotch's eyes widened in shock. How could she even consider that? Didn't she know that everything he'd done within the past four days had been to protect her, to make her feel safe? He still hadn't responded, clearly hurt by her words.

"I'm sorry, Aaron." Emily apologized. She tried to stop the tears dwelling up in her eyes. Hotch doubted he had ever seen a look like that in somebody's eyes before. Shame. Pain. Fear. And more self-hatred than anyone could possibly bear. A dangerous combination. He knew – he understood – even before she could say the words: "I... I know I'm freaking out right now. I know you'd never..." She gulped. "I just... I need to hear it from you. Please."

Oh god. The sheer desperateness of her voice ripped his heart out. How could he not tell her what she needed to hear? No matter how much it hurt that he had to say it in the first place! He inhaled deeply, trying to brace himself for what he was about to say: "I didn't do anything to you while you were asleep, Emily" Hotch paused for a second, trying to regain composure before he continued. "I did not r..." She cut him off. "Stop. I'm so sorry. I know you'd never..." She gulped. "I'm so sorry."

He didn't respond.

Too dramatic? Too out-of-character? Please tell me what you think!