Running out of his office, Hotch bumped into Morgan. "Whoa. Morning, boss... You okay?" "Where's Emily?" "What?" "Emily. Have you seen her?" Hotch urged, unable to hide the worry in his voice. Morgan gave him a confused look. "She's at the vending machines, I guess. Said she needed something to drink." "She's here?" "Yeah! Why wouldn't she? What's wrong, Hotch?" Ignoring Morgan's question, Hotch ran towards the vending machines. There she was.
"Morning!" Emily greeted. "What?" The brunette frowned. "Good morning, Hotch." She repeated happily. Happily! "What are you doing here, Emily?" Another frown. "I work here, remember?" A young agent from a different unit approached. Standing in front of one of the vending machines, he looked back and forth between Hershey's and Snickers, pretending he couldn't decide what to buy. Hotch rolled his eyes - it was obvious the guy was just eavesdropping. "Can... can I have a word with you, Emily?" "Uh, sure?" The other agent was now openly staring at them, no longer even pretending to be interested in a snack. Hotch shot him an annoyed glance and guided Emily towards his office.
Being polite, he gestured towards a chair offering her to sit down. Being Emily, she refused. Hotch sighed and closed the door. "What are you doing?" "What are you doing, Emily?" She gulped. "What do you mean?" "What are you doing here? You shouldn't be here yet, Emily. Take some time off. It's okay!" "Why?" WHY? How could she even ask that? "Because of what happened to you this weekend?" Hotch was so upset his statement sounded like a suggestion.
"I don't know what you're talking about!"
WHAT? She couldn't be serious! She had been completely broken less than 24 hours ago! How could she even pretend not to remember? "Emily! You were raped!" She gulped. The following "No, I wasn't!" was barely audible but still gave her away. If he'd be talking nonsense, she wouldn't have whispered. She would've stared at him in confusion, would've dramatically shouted "WHAT?", would've maybe even called him insane. She would've sounded confused, maybe upset, but not hurt. Not scared. Hotch opened his mouth and then closed it again, not knowing what to say. How could she just stand here, trying to pretend nothing had ever happened?
"Emily" He started. "Please don't do this." "I don't know wha..." She tried again weakly, but Hotch interrupted her. "Stop it! You know exactly what I'm talking about! I'm talking about picking you up at this disgusting motel on a Sunday morning. I'm talking about driving you to the hospital and and spending four hours in the car, waiting for you to come back. I'm talking about you sitting on the backseat, begging me not to look at you because you didn't want me to see you crying, breaking down. I'm talking about you slamming the door in my face after I'd dropped you off at your place, because you were so ashamed that you couldn't even look at me!" Hotch stopped and took a deep breath, trying to control his voice.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Emily!" He repeated, glaring at her with a piercing look. Emily gulped, and for a brief moment, Hotch was sure she was going to burst into tears, but she didn't. "Maybe. But you can't prove it." Emily whispered, unable to even look at him. "Officially, nothing of what you just said ever happened."