It's not that he's angry, per se. Well, he knows it's not anger more than anything else. Betrayal, maybe, concern for her and this Tsia she's so damn worried about, of course. There's a growing feeling in his gut that he doesn't like, that makes him feel like sending her friend running says something about her faith in the team he wishes it didn't.

He wants to snap at her, maybe shake her. They've only ever succeeded as a team. They only ever go off the rails when they try to function independently of each other. He wants to know why she can't see that, why it's so easy for her to lecture him on sticking close, on staying with them back when his world had dropped out from beneath him, and why she seems so intent on freezing them out now.

"I can't bring her in," Emily begins. "I can't ask you to house her too. I'm not doing that to them."

"Doing what?" he asks, doesn't even realize the sound that comes out of him is his own voice, low and incredibly intense.

She runs her fingers over her face as best she can around the white-knuckled grip she still has on her phone. "This is- Ian is my issue. He's my problem."

He's not stupid and he knows Emily. He can already see the way she wants this argument to unfold. He opens his mouth to debunk the whole thing, to point out the obvious flaws in her statement when her hand tightens on his jacket.

"You don't know what he's capable of," she says. "I've been there. I've seen it and it's not pretty."

Hotch discovers that he doesn't like the implication of that statement. At all. Nor the way her spine goes ramrod straight, like she's finally tapped into that immovable, unshakable calm he's come to admire in her. Her eyes are hard and brittle.

"Ian is ruthless. He doesn't care who he has to go through to get to me. That means you. Every single one of you." She surprises him when she steps closer and surprises himself with the violent jolt of his reaction, the heavy pounding that starts in his blood. "I've told you, but not them. They don't need to know."

The hell they don't. Keeping the team out of the loop is a terrible idea and they both know it. It's a desperate move to close the Pandora's Box Emily had never meant to open Except he won't let her. He refuses to let her. He won't lose her and he certainly refuses to lose her to a situation he can control and influence. He can protect her from this. They can protect her from this. But he also knows her well enough to know the only way they can is if it's something she wants.

"Agent Prentiss."

As it turns out it's exactly the thing to say. The panic lingering behind the cold hardness in her eyes retreats enough that her breathing calms, starts to regulate itself. Her shoulders go back, but her hand still grips his jacket. His is still wrapped around her wrist, grounding her, he wants to think.

He will not abandon her and he will not let her abandon him.

"The more we know, the better chance we have at catching him," he tells her in that same low, controlled voice. "You said it yourself, you know him like no one else."

He finds himself reaching for her other hand, wrapping his fingers around her slim wrist. He brings that hand to his chest too, holds her there in a way that is probably too intimate for what they are now and for the office. He doesn't care. Not right now.

"You know him better than anyone," he says, using her own words against her. "So use that. Here."

"At what cost? At whose cost? He's already threatened the team. He's already threatened you. And Jack."

He goes still for a moment as the implications process. "You knew he was here."

"Yes." It comes out like she's dragging her voice over hot coals. She's slipped now and they both know it. "He tracked me down."

He doesn't realize he's squeezing her bones until she hisses in pain. "When?"

"When doesn't matter-"

"Emily. How long as he been here?"

"A few weeks," she relents. "He sent me flowers."

He hisses. "At home."

"I've taken precautions-"

It's not good enough and he growls. It does explain the bruises around her eyes, the jumpiness and withdrawn nature of her interactions with all of them, her reluctance to come to dinner with Jack like she always does. He goes to tell her it's unacceptable, that things are going to change when Dave knocks and pokes his head in the door. They have a case, after all, even if she's the one in the thick of it.

"She's here," Dave says, and Hotch is aware enough to see the way Dave's eyes stay pointedly on his face.

Hotch feels Emily's hand tighten. "Hotch-"

He releases the hand that holds her phone. "I had Dave call in reinforcements," he reveals.

"Rein-Hotch."

He's already dragging her along, back towards the conference room. He certainly hopes his reinforcement can shed some light on whom they're working with. Maybe, if he's lucky, she'll even manage to convince Emily to work with them instead of fighting against him. It's the latter he's banking on since Emily still seems so very reluctant to share. It's a reluctance that is making him exceedingly nervous in the face of the bombshell of knowing Ian Doyle.

In the meantime, he watches as JJ looks up from reading Garcia's laptop screen, a smile on her face that displays just how dangerous she can be when she's not playing the role of sweet, adorable, all-American belle. She straightens and picks up the remote beside the laptop, nodding once in Hotch's direction.

"Let's get to work."

You are all darlings. Thank you for leaving your thoughts on the first three chapters!