I can't believe this story has already hit 50 reviews! I'm so glad you're all enjoying it : ) I could never say thank you enough!

XxxxX

Emily pulled into the apartment complex parking lot and found a place to park her car easily. She had ended her conversation with Hotch just a few moments prior, telling him that she was almost there. He had talked to her as she drove, his voice sounding smooth and calming and wonderful in her ears. She wasn't even sure what he was telling her. Probably things about Jack, and about the team. She just kept making small noises confirming that she was listening from time to time, the sound of his voice enough on keep her focused on driving.

While they talked, Hotch didn't press her to tell her what was wrong. He didn't seem mad that she'd obviously lied about why she was here. He was just such a good person, a good friend.

Emily made a move to open her car door, but stopped herself. What was she doing? He was always so...so together. Sure, she'd seen him at his weakest after Foyet, but even then he'd had a certain kind of calmness about him. Right now, Emily was a mess. She was going to be a mess for quite some time. Hotch had Jack to worry about, the little boy's needs and his happiness should always, always come first. He also had a demanding job that left him hardly any free time. She shouldn't take up that time with her problems. She could handle them alone. She always did. She was fine.

That's what she tried to tell herself, anyway, as she wiped tears away from her eyes, furiously rubbing at them to try and make the tears stop.

She was just about to start the car and drive away when her phone rang. She should've ignored it, but before she could tell herself that, she had answered it.

"Hi," she said weakly, though she tried not to sound it.

"Are you alright? You said you were almost here." His voice rang through the phone, so steady, but she could hear a tinge of worry.

Emily bit her lip. "Yeah, I'm just- sitting in your parking lot." She whispered meekly, she wasn't really embarrassed about it, but she was seriously hating herself for bothering him.

"Aren't you going to come in?" He asked.

"No." She said quickly. Realizing how that sounded, she spoke hastily. "I mean...I just...I don't want to bother you. I can go home. I'm fine." She said, placing her hand on the key to start the ignition.

As if he could see her, he spoke. "No, stop. Come up here, please? You're not fine. You're not bothering me. Please, Emily. Let me help you." He was practically begging her. Emily knew Aaron Hotchner did not beg, so she knew he wasn't going to take no for an answer. If she left now, he'd probably have the whole FBI following her in seconds. She almost cracked a smile at that thought.

"Okay." She whispered. "Okay." She slowly pulled the key out of the ignition and pocketed it, opening the door and stepping out into the chilly Spring night.

"Do you want me to stay on while you walk up here?" He offered sweetly.

"That's okay. I'll see you soon." She said as she hung up before he had the chance to argue. She took a sharp breath, feeling the cool night air fill her lungs. She put her phone in her back pocket, and headed toward the door. Her feet led her to Hotch's apartment door, as if they were on autopilot.

Gently, she knocked on the door. She bit her nails as she waited for him to come to the door. It opened almost immediately, and she knew he'd been waiting right by the door since she called.

She blinked back tears, looking at him, taking him in. He had on dark grey sweatpants and a light blue tshirt. He'd been ready to go to bed and she'd interrupted him. She looked down, feeling guilty. It was irrational, but she felt overdressed in her dark jeans and pine green sweater she had been wearing all day.

He didn't even speak to her; he pulled her inside the apartment gently and guided her to his couch. They sat sideways, facing each other. Two glasses of red wine sat on the coffee table in front of them. Ordinarily, she would have welcomed the stuff without question, but tonight she couldn't bear the thought of putting anything at all into her stomach. She was pretty sure it wouldn't stay there long.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Hotch asked softly. He was never one to press her. He had known that if she wanted to talk, she would. If she didn't, you'd never get anything out if her. Emily was busying herself by pulling her long dark hair back into a ponytail.

"I lied," She said quietly, her voice timid and childlike and very much unlike Emily. "About why I'm here." She added.

"Are you okay? I mean, you're not in trouble or anything, right?" He asked. She shook her head, pulling the sleeves of her sweater down over her hands, staring at them intently to give herself something to distract her.

"It's- it's my mom." Emily said finally. "I'm not...supposed to say anything."

"You don't have to tell me, Emily. But if you do, I won't tell anyone." He assured her.

She swallowed thickly, her mouth suddenly dry. She shouldn't be here. She shouldn't tell him. She shouldn't break her promise to her mother.

"She's really sick..." Emily said, her voice so much unlike her own that it startled her.

"Oh, Emily." Hotch said softly. "I'm so sorry." He tried to pull her closer and hug her, but she backed away. Not because she didn't want it, but because she knew as soon as she touched him she was going to completely fall apart. And she wasn't ready for that.

"She doesn't want me to tell anybody. But I'm here; I'm taking care of her. It's all alright. I shouldn't have come here-" she said, moving to stand as she spoke but a strong, gentle tug brought her back down to her seat next to Hotch.

"It's okay, Emily. I'm here." He told her. She looked at him, his features blurred by the tears brimming in her eyes. She rapidly blinked them back. She knew she could trust him, she knew that with every part of her. So, she took a breath, and finally told him everything. She told him about the diagnosis, about Elizabeth's new living arrangements, about what had happened that night. By the time she was done talking, the tears had started to fall again despite Emily's many efforts to keep them at bay. She furiously wiped them away.

"I'm just- I'm so scared. I don't know how to do this. I don't want my mom to die, Aaron." She said, her voice cracking and breaking. She wasn't even sure when she had started calling him Aaron rather than Hotch, and she was always so careful to never do it around the team, because they might get the idea that she and Hotch were together. His name felt so familiar, yet she felt like she hadn't said it in years.

She knew she wasn't going to be able to take this much longer. She blinked several times before she made herself look up and into Hotch's deep brown eyes. They were full of apprehension, he was looking at her like she was breakable and was going to shatter to pieces at any second.

Normally, she would have hated that. She would've told him to go away and she would've been so angry that he assumed she couldn't take care of herself. But not tonight. She forced herself to look away, down at her feet.

"I'm so sorry, Emily." Hotch said seriously. He took her hands in his larger ones and Emily fought back even more tears. He stroked his thumb gently across the top of her hand. She couldn't take it anymore. Her lungs felt like they were going to explode. Her heart was racing at an unfathomable speed. She couldn't stop shaking. Her body felt hot and cold all at the same time. She couldn't breathe.

She practically flung herself into Hotch's arms. He didn't even seem surprised. He hugged her closely to him, the warmth of his body feeling so strong and perfect to her own shaking body. She cried. She finally gave in and let herself truly cry since she had out about Elizabeth's diagnosis. She had shed some tears since she had been back in DC, but she hadn't let herself breakdown. She hated doing it, she hated crying. But she knew that she wasn't going to be able to breathe properly again until she did.

So she let Hotch hold her close. She let herself cry into his shoulder. She let him pet her hair and whisper encouraging words in her ears and tell her that it was all going to be okay.

Finally, she felt like she could breathe again. Her eyes stung, her head hurt, and she had left a giant tear-stained spot on Hotch's shirt, she realized as she finally sat up to face him.

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

"Don't be. You know, I knew when we ran into each other that something was…off, about you. But I didn't think it was anything like this. I wish I knew how to help you." Hotch rambled.

"You are," Emily said gently. "Helping."

"I know you promised your mother you wouldn't tell anyone, but I'm glad you told me. I won't say anything." He assured her.

"I know you won't." Emily replied.

"You look exhausted, Em." Hotch said after a beat or two of silence. "Have you been sleeping?"

She didn't even have to answer; they both knew the answer to that.

"Why don't you stay here?" He offered. It wouldn't be the first time they had stayed a night together, of course they had never done more than actually sleep; but somehow Emily felt it would be wrong to accept that offer.

"No, I- I shouldn't." She said softly. "I'll just go. Thank you for- for everything." She said, feeling her face grow warm. She wasn't sure why.

"Seriously, Em. You're welcome to stay the night." He told her, and she knew he was serious.

"Okay." Emily finally agreed. "I'll stay." Hotch smiled, and the sight was almost enough to make her return the gesture. But she didn't. He moved from the couch and disappeared toward the back of the apartment. She took the time by herself to text George and tell him not to wait up for her, that she was staying with a friend and would come home in the morning, so he wouldn't worry. She felt bad leaving him all alone, but she couldn't really bear the thought of heading home to cry by herself all night for what felt like the hundredth night in a row.

He returned seconds later with a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt for Emily. She took them from him tentatively. Was this actually happening? It was as if Doyle never happened, like she'd never been away; like she hadn't taken the Interpol job. She knew she would probably spend the better part of the next day analyzing this over and over, but right now, she really didn't care.

"Why don't you go put those on? I'll put on a movie or something and we can just sit out here for a bit." Hotch suggested.

Emily nodded. "Thank you." She said gratefully as she dashed into the bathroom and changed her clothes, happy to be in something much more comfortable. When she emerged back into the living room, she found Hotch putting a blanket at the end of the couch, the wine that had been sitting there previously was replaced with two bottles of water, and a stack of DVDs sat on the table.

"You're amazing." Emily breathed, not even sure if he heard her or not. He sat down on the couch; she crossed the room to do the same.

"I just set out some movies, but you can pick whatever you want." He told her.

She looked at the stack in front of her. She really didn't feel like watching anything, but she knew if they didn't watch a movie, they would start talking. She'd had enough talking for one day, so she picked up The Breakfast Club and put it into the DVD player.

As the movie started, she sat back down on the couch and pulled the blanket at the foot of the couch up over her.

XxxxxX

Hotch woke early, a habit he had picked up long before he had ever worked for the FBI. He groaned his body stiff from sleeping on the couch all night. When did he fall asleep? Why was he on the couch? Why couldn't he move? Oh. He remembered. Oh.

He glanced down, the warmth he was feeling not from a blanket, but from another human body. Emily was still fast asleep on top of him. He didn't want to move her and risk waking her, but he knew if he didn't get up and stretch his aching muscles soon, he was probably going to regret it.

Slowly, he managed to maneuver himself out from under Emily. She had barely moved, and he wondered when the last time she had truly slept had been. He gently situated a pillow under Emily's head and pulled the blanket tightly around her. She looked so peaceful, the stress that had been on her face was no longer there. He could only hope that talking to him and finally getting a good night's sleep was going to be beneficial to her. He wished there was more he could do, but he didn't have any experience in handling this kind of situation.

He moved into the kitchen, where he was just about to call Jack before Jessica dropped him off at school. Before he could, he heard a light knock at the door.

He sat his phone down on the counter and quietly headed for the door, glancing over at Emily who hadn't even stirred.

He opened the door to reveal a smiling, cheerful Beth. She had two coffees in her hands. Well shit. Hotch thought. Of all mornings she would decide to surprise him, it had to be this morning. He was going to have one hell of a time trying to explain this.