Aftermath

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas

This chapter is focused on Emily. I have always loved writing Emily but actually found this chapter hard to prep for. Hope it works for you.

. . .

Emily sat in the near darkness, the few flickering candles giving the room a relaxing glow- though Emily was far from relaxed. Instead, yet again, she could feel the tension painfully across her shoulders and in a tight band around her head. She was still cross from today's interview and the sense that Strauss had been out to blame Hotch for all that had happened. This had been what that woman had wanted for a long time. Maybe now she would be satisfied.

In front of her was a large glass of red wine. It was poured from the last bottle of the case her mother had given her at Christmas. It was a favoured Italian, full bodied and aromatic. She had been saving this bottle for a special time – though that moment had never come. Now she hoped she may hide in its contents. Praying silently that the taste and smell would flood her mind with the positive memories she had gained from revisiting such a beautiful country.

After all that was how she dealt with everything in life. Everything was filed away in her conscience. Some memories under lock and key never to been seen again. Others free to mask the moments when she struggled. Moments like today.

Yet the glass sat there, still untouched, the rest of the bottle open beside it. Not a drop drank as she hugged herself tight on her sleek white couch. Her slender arms wrapped around her legs that she had drawn up to her body. Her chin resting on her knees as her gaze settled on one of the dancing flames.

She needed to find a way to deal with all they had been through over the last few days. Finding something to help her collect it all up and bury it – making her strong enough to face the coming days in dignity. After all that is what the daughter of an ambassador does.

"Never let them see you cry," she could hear her mother's words echo through her head.

Lucky there was no-one there with her tonight. She had contemplated the need. Considered asking Spencer for a game of chess, but had decided it was best to find a way to cope alone. After all it was what she was used to.

So as the tears began to flow Emily let her emotions go. Giving herself permission to succumb to the outburst. Her body physical shook as she sobbed, the knees of her jeans absorbing the tears as they fell relentlessly. All this was masking her ability to process the cause of her grief. That alone was blocking her from filing it all away and moving on. It was rare that this happened. She could count the incidents when it had on one hand. Emily was use to moving on quickly – some called it a blessing other thought it made her hard and heartless. She called it survival in the jobs she had done over the years. You couldn't see the things she had seen, experience what she had experienced and still be here without one hell of a coping strategy.

Drawing in a deep breath, Emily rubbed at her eyes, trying desperately to push the remaining tears back where they had come from. She wanted to regain control and begin the process of gaining a perspective on all that had happened.

On a personal level she had not been close to Haley. Emily doubted anyone, other than Hotch, from the team ever had. Why would they be? Yet only the single most heartless person could not have been moved by the final exchange between Hotch and Haley. Hearing in her voice that she knew she was going to die. Emily closed her eyes, having been convinced before that she was in a situation she would not get out of, she could relate to Haley's fear. That was without the added burden of doing anything to protect your son from the madman that was threatening to kill him too. Emily shuddered at the thought of what could have happened.

Was it wrong to think that things could have been much worse?

A wry smile tugged at the corners of her damp lips, that was more like the thinking years of being an ambassador's daughter had installed in her.

It could have been worse. The Reaper could have found Jack. He could have killed him too. He could have over powered Hotch, he had done once before. They could have been mourning his death too – the death of a whole family. Instead they should be celebrating the strength and sacrifice of one woman. Haley - a mother, a lover and a friend. Who had done everything in her power to protect those who meant the most to her. Jack lived because of her. It was the only way to begin to process the whole ordeal.

And it was an ordeal. Since that very day it had been heartbreaking to watch Hotch come to terms with his loss as he struggled to gain control of his own emotions so that he could help Jack. He was a strong leader. A man she admired and respected. It was awful seeing him try to fight back from such a low. Emily had obviously joined all of her team in offering their support, being willing to do anything to help. Yet she knew she was on par with her colleagues in feeling helpless. What could they truly do?

Managing a definite wipe of her face, knowing that by now there would be a very undignified smear of mascara across her cheeks – her mother would not be pleased. Emily dried her face. No more tears would fall tonight.

Emily, finally reached forward, took the warm glass of red and drank slowly. The rich ruby liquid instantly mellowed her mood. She slid down a little into the comfort of the couch, her gaze once more settling on one of the dancing candle flames. Silently she raised her glass in a toast to Haley Hotchner – the brave, selfless woman whose son lives through her sacrifice.

A woman after her own heart.