Surprise! Yes, I am early. Life is again interferring in my posting schedule. So enjoy the early gift.

After Hotch had left to fetch Jack, Emily continued to browse through the rest of the drawings. Each touched her in a unique way that was going to make it hard to pick out her favorites. She loved them all. Knowing it wouldn't be long before Hotch returned, she reluctantly tucked the drawings back into the file. Grabbing the forearm crutch the doctor had ordered her to use whenever she was on her feet, she used it to level herself up and drag her uncooperative hip back to the bed. As much as she detested using the crutch, it did make her feel steadier on her feet and less dependent on the nursing staff to move from one spot to the next.

Before settling back into bed she pulled open the drawer on the nightstand and set the file inside so that Jack wouldn't see it when he came. She closed the drawer, hesitated and reopened it. Emily shuffled through the drawings until she found the Mother's Day card. She left it in the drawer but sitting on top of the file by itself. She would have to find a special spot for it when she went home. Wait. She didn't have a home to go to, her apartment was long gone. Oh well, she'll find the perfect place for the card wherever she ends up, be it here in Washington D.C. or somewhere else. She eased onto the bed and used her hand to pull the bum leg up and in. Covering up with the blanket, she closed her eyes, sank back against the pillows and nodded off.

Hotch and Jack stepped off the elevator. Hand in hand they walked down the corridor, Jack clutching to his chest a large homemade 'Get Well' drawing that he had spent the last couple of days working hard to get it just right.

"Now do you remember everything we talked about?" Hotch asked, looking down at his son.

"Uh huh," Jack said nodding vigorously. "We can't stay long cause Em'ly still gets tired quickly and if she lets me hug her I have to be real gentle like I was with Millie's puppies."

"And?"

Jack scrunched up his face thinking hard. "I can't remember," he admitted in defeat.

"Use your inside voice. No yelling in the hospital."

"Right. No yelling cause other people might be trying to sleep."

Hotch tousled his son's hair fondly as they stopped outside of Emily's room. "Why don't you go ahead and knock."

"Why? The door is open."

"Because it is the polite thing to do. One should always announce themselves first before entering a room."

"Huh?"

Hotch sighed. "Jack, just knock and wait for Emily to invite us in."

"Okay, Daddy," he beamed. He raised his small fist and pounded on the open door.

Emily awoke just in time to overhear the tail end of Hotch's talk with Jack. His innocence brought a smile to her lips. She waited for a few seconds to pass after the knock before saying, "Come in."

The two Hotchner men enter the room. One was calm and collected as always. The other was struggling to control the urge to bound into the room and up on the bed, shouting out her name as loud as he could. But he had promised not to yell and to wait for permission to climb onto the bed.

"Hi, Em'ly," he said, coming to stand next to the bed with his hands behind his back and grinning from ear to ear like a Cheshire cat.

"Hey, Jack," she said in greeting. "It's good to see you again." She could see that he was hiding something behind his back and judging from the way he was bouncing up and down he was dying to give whatever it was to her.

"You too." He cocked his head to one side. "Boy, your face sure looks bad," he blurted out.

Hotch's eyes bulged in shock. "Jack!" he hissed. "We don't say things like that. I'm so sorry, Emily," he hastily apologized.

Emily laughed and waved her hand dismissively. "It's alright, Hotch. I've seen myself and I know it is not a pretty picture."

"But still…"

She ignored him and winked at Jack who was now looking ashamed. "In a few days time these two black eyes of mine will be even more colorful. All shades of blue, green and yellow."

"Really?" he asked in awe.

"Really. Come back next week and see for yourself."

"Can we, Daddy?" Jack looked up at his father hopefully.

"Sure, Buddy," Hotch said with a small sigh of resignation. Emily looked at him with two shiners full of mischief.

"You're incorrigible," he said to her.

"So I've been told."

"What's in-corgi-bode?" The two adults looked at him and chuckled.

"Never you mind." Hotch rubbed the top of his son's head. "Don't you have something?" he prompted.

"Oh!" Jack exclaimed, the light bulb popping on in his head. "I made this for you." His hand whipped out from behind his back and thrust at her a big piece of construction paper folded in half.

"Why thank you, Jack." She scooted to one side of the bed and patted the empty space next to her. "Come sit by me and we'll look at it together."

Jack looked back at his father who nodded his consent. With a grin he scrambled up and plopped down next to her. He unfolded it and held it open for her. He had printed in large, block letters along the top of the sheet 'GET WELL SOON!' and filled each one with a different color of glitter. Below were multi-colored balloons that he had made and cut out. Each was carefully glued to the paper and had a matching piece of ribbon for its string. Next he had drawn a group of animals to hold the balloons. Each was smiling and wearing a party hat.

Emily pointed to the cat. "Sergio?" Jack nodded. Then she pointed to what she now knew was a red panda "RJ?"

"Who?" he asked looking puzzled.

"Oh, sorry. Rossi. I had to change his name slightly. Apparently we were confusing Uncle Dave."

"That's okay," he said. "I like RJ too." He ran his fingers over the drawing. "I can see Uncle Dave getting confused. He is old after all."

Emily repressed a smile. "If I were you, I wouldn't let Uncle Dave hear you say that," she confided in him.

"Why?"

She looked at Hotch, who was still standing, for support. He gave her the 'you said it, I didn't' look.

"Ah…just don't do it. Trust me on this, Jack."

"Okay," Jack said, not giving it another thought.

"Hotch, you're hovering. Sit down," she said to her boss.

"Sorry." He sat quickly in the chair and Emily nodded her thanks.

She turned her attention back to Jack's work of art. In addition to the balloons, he had covered the sheet with dozens of stick on stars. But it was what he had carefully written at the bottom that almost choked her up. 'I missed you. Love, Jack.' Emily vowed that she would not cry again. Doing it once if front of Hotch was embarrassing enough. Twice would be humiliating.

Successfully fighting back the tears Emily wrapped her good arm around Jack's shoulder and gave him a hug. "I love it, Sweetie. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Em'ly," Jack said beaming with pride. "Are you going to hang it up?" He looked at the get well cards decorating the wall.

"Of course I am. As soon as your daddy finds some tape." She pointed to a spot on the wall. "I going to hang there so that it is the first one I see in the morning."

"Cool." Jack turned to his father. "Daddy? Why aren't you getting the tape?"

Hotch blinked and hopped out of the chair. "Right. Tape." He gestured to the door. "I'll check at the nurse's station."

Emily smiled. "You do that. Meanwhile Jack and I are going to chat about what he has been up to these last five months."

"No problem." Hotch got the hint that Emily wanted a little alone time with Jack. Smiling he went off in search of tape and coffee.

"So," Emily said, looking at the little boy. "Did you get to play soccer this year?"

"You remembered," Jack crowed in delight.

"I did," she said, smiling fondly. "Now, did you?"

"Uh huh."

Emily pulled him in tighter to her side and he gently wrapped his arm around her waist. "Tell me all about it."

The rest of the week settled into a comfortable routine. Members of the team would come in ones or twos and spend several hours hanging out with her. Emily was content to sit back and listen to her friends talk, only speaking up to keep the conversation moving. On the few occasions when the subject of her forced exile came up, Emily deftly maneuvered the conversation away from her and back to whomever she was chatting with. Her friends immediately noticed her unwillingness to confide in them about that painful period in her life and as a group decided to let the matter drop. They assumed that when she was ready she would talk about it. But Emily wasn't planning on ever being ready. She simply wanted to lock it in the deepest recess of her mind and throw away the key. Unfortunately the memories were reluctant to let her forget causing the nightmares to return.

It was also during this time that Emily started her campaign to get out of her room. She wasn't claustrophobic but after staring at the same walls for days on end, the room seemed to be growing smaller. She had to get out. Emily started pestering the staff and the doctor every time she saw them. After three days of non-stop hounding Dr. Barrett finally gave in or at least she appeared to give in. The good doctor was already planning to do so but she was curious to see how far Emily could push it. So on the first day of her second week, Emily was up and slowly limping around the eighth floor and she took full advantage of her new found freedom. The team quickly learned to look for her in one of three places: her room, the corridors or the lounge at the end of one.

On this particular day Rossi found her hobbling along the hallway.

"Hey, Kiddo," he said, coming up behind her and lightly touching her on her sling enclosed elbow.

Emily recoiled as if a flame hot poker had just burned her. She stumbled into the wall, her hand releasing the grip of the crutch to clutch at the railing. Her breath coming out in short gasps.

"God, I'm sorry, Emily," Rossi said hastily. He reached out to steady her only to have her shrink away from his hands. As he pulled them back he saw the terror in her eyes. She's afraid of me, he thought and moved back a couple of steps to give her some space. In those few seconds it took to step back the terror was replaced with her convenient mask of calm composure.

"Dave, you surprised me," she said, giving him a quick smile that did not reach those once fear full eyes. On the outside Emily struggled to appear calm but on the inside her heart pounded in her chest and she had to fight off the instinct to flee.

He arched an eyebrow at her choice of words. Surprised? More like terrified. What did Doyle do to you? "I didn't mean too," he apologized.

"That's okay." She glanced briefly at him, gave another quick smile and looked away. Her hand was still clutching at the handrail with a white-knuckle grip. An uneasy silence hung between the two friends.

"Planning on making a run for it?" he joked, hoping to ease the tension surrounding them.

"I wish," she snorted, still refusing to look at him. "Someone tattled on me and they watch me like a hawk every time I step out of my room." She finally turned back and rewarded him with a genuine smile. "You should see how they perk up whenever I get near the elevators."

Dave laughed. Emily was well known for her intense dislike of hospitals and her tendency to sign out against medical advice. Apparently Dr. Barrett was keeping a close eye on her patient and not letting Emily ride roughshod over her. Military doctors must be made of tougher stuff to be able to repel a force by the like of Emily Prentiss.

Emily released her death grip on the railing as her breathing slowed and her heartbeat returned to normal. She berated herself for letting Rossi sneak up on her like that and then for letting him see her acting like a scared little child. She was stronger and tougher than that. She had to show that side to her team so that they would see that she was fine. That she had overcome what Doyle had done to her and was moving on. Only then would they stop worrying about her.

"Penny for your thoughts."

"Huh?" She snapped back to reality. She hadn't realized that she had let her mind wander.

"Looked like you were miles away."

She let out a halfhearted laugh. "I guess I was."

"Anything you want to share?"

"Nope," she said firmly with a shake of her head.

Dave studied her for a moment still amazed, after all these years he had worked with her, how quickly she could scurry behind those walls of self preservation. It was then he noticed something else was off with her. Not mentally but physically off.

"Emily, what happened to your nose?"

Instinctively she touched her bandaged nose. "It rather embarrassing," she said sheepishly.

"Let me be the judge of that."

"I woke up in the middle of night to use the bathroom," she lied. It hadn't been the urge to go to the bathroom that had driven her from her bed; it had been a particularly bad nightmare that she had tried to flee in her half awaken state. No way in hell was she ever going to let anyone know about the nightmares.

She continued. "I was half asleep and forgot where I was or that I needed my crutch," she said truthfully. "I stood up, took a step and next thing I know I'm on the floor with blood running down face."

Dave winched in sympathy. "So you used your nose to break your fall."

"I did."

"Is it broken?"

"No. Just badly bruised and swollen. It will be as good a new in a couple of weeks with the rest of me."

"That's good."

"And you know what the worse part of the whole thing?" she asked him. "I ended up taking a midnight trip down to X-Ray to take new pictures of my ribs, hand and shoulder to make sure I didn't do any additional damage to them."

"Did you?" he asked.

Emily shook her head. "Nope. Everything seems to be healing well. The only thing I didn't get the rest of the night was sleep."

Spotting an opening to a conversation he wanted to have with her, he said casually, "Speaking of sleep. Have you given any thought to where you will be staying after you have been sprung from this joint?"

She blinked at the sudden change of topic. "Not really," she hedged. "My apartment as you know is gone but that is all right with me. Doyle tainted it." She gazed down the corridor. "I guess I'll stay at a hotel or my Mother's house. She's in Albania so the place is empty."

"By yourself? Are you sure that is wise?" Rossi asked, obviously concerned.

Her eyes blazed with annoyance. "I can take care of myself," she snapped.

Dave held up his hands in an attempt to placate her. "I never said you couldn't. What I was trying to get at is that it might be a good idea to have someone around in case you may need some help."

Emily pressed her lips into a thin line and stared down at her feet. "What do you suggest I do, Rossi? Stay with you?" she grumbled, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yes."

Her eyes shot up. "What?" she asked in bewilderment. That was not the answer she had been expecting.

"Stay at my place, Emily. I got plenty of room."

"You're serious," she said still slightly stunned. His generosity knocked her off balance.

"I am. I have a nice guest room with its own bath and it overlooks the garden. You'll have run of the place. I'll been there to lend a hand only when you ask for it. Otherwise I'll keep out of your hair." His eyes twinkled. "The best part will be the finest Italian meals I will get to fix for you."

One look at his face told her how serious he was. She didn't know what to say. It was sweet of to offer but she didn't like feeling beholden to anyone especially her friends. It always felt like pity to her. So she decided to do what she did best in this type of situation: she tried to retreat.

"I couldn't impose," she said with a shake of her head and took a couple of steps back.

Dave stopped himself from following. Now was not the time to intrude on her personal space. "It's not an imposition if you are invited and this is an invitation," he countered her argument smoothly.

"Dave…" she hemmed.

He shook his head. "I'm not taking no for an answer."

She blew out a breath of frustration. "Yes," she said reluctantly. "Only until I find a place of my own," she added hastily.

Rossi smiled. "Works for me."

"You'll probably regret it later. I can be difficult to live with."

"Never. Do you want to continue on your walk or head back to your room?"

"My walk. I had just started when I got sidetracked."

"May I accompany you?" Dave asked politely, stepping to her left side offering her his arm.

Emily eyed the proffered arm warily. She again quelled the urge to run. "You may," she said with a smile and slipped her arm through his. Rossi took the crutch in his other hand.

He nodded down the corridor. "This way?"

"Yes," she confirmed and they started off.

Dave smiled to himself while Emily focused on placing one foot in front of the other. Two battles fought and won and many more to come with this extremely stubborn and fiercely independent woman known as Emily Prentiss.

As the saying goes 'all good things must come to an end' so did her daily visits from the team. Strauss had put them back on active duty and they were now winging it to Tempe, Arizona to corral a possible spree killer. They had stopped by on the way to the airport to express their condolences. After silently listening to them apologizing left and right for leaving, she told them to shut up and get on the damn plane.

Emily assured them that she understood. She did. That she would be fine and that she wasn't going anywhere. She wasn't unless the hospital suddenly burned down. If she wanted to chat all she had to do was pick up the phone and dial. She wouldn't. And finally that she preferred them out chasing bad and guys and saving people's lives than sitting here shooting the breeze with her. The team unwilling said their goodbyes each promising to call when they had a chance. Emily said she would like that. She did.

Now with the team out of town for three or more days, Emily finally had enough time on her hands to take care of the one thing she had been putting off since returning to the states. Thinking about her future. Was she still part of the Bureau? She highly doubted she was. But on the off chance she was, did she want to remain with the FBI? If she did, would she like to stay in the BAU or transfer to another division? That question hinged on if the team wanted her back. She knew where she stood with them personally: they were delighted to have her back. Professionally she was unsure of. Would they want to work with her and would they trust her enough to watch their backs?

If she did request a transfer, would it be to another department with Quantico or should she ask for a field office? Now if she chose to leave the Bureau, should she try for another federal job? Would it be better if she packed up her meager belongings and moving away to some place where no one knew who she was or about her checkered past? Would starting over be the best fit for her? All where legitimate questions that required answers. Each one she had to consider very carefully. Whatever path she chose to follow would have a dramatic effect not only on her life but on the lives of her friends.

Wow! Emily sure does have a lot of questions to answer. Stay tune to find out what path she chooses to follow.