Hi all! So sorry for the long wait! School started out crazy, so I'm not sure how frequently I'll be able to update for you, but do know that I have absolutely no intentions of giving up on this story! After this, things will start to look up for Emily, finally. Hope you guys enjoy! Thanks so much for your patience!

XxxxX

Hotch left early the next morning to spend the day with Jack before he and the team went back to work. After he left, Emily and George ate breakfast together. Emily woke up in a weird mood. She couldn't really explain it; it was just like every little thing annoyed her or upset her. She really didn't want to be around anyone, so as soon as she was able, she headed back up to her room; but not before stopping in the doorway of what once was Elizabeth's room. She didn't go inside. She just opened the door and peeked in for a few minutes. It was so strange how lonely and cold the room felt, like it hadn't been in use in years. Suddenly, Emily felt another wave of uncontrollable sadness hit her like a ton of bricks. She backed away from the door and closed it as quietly as she could manage and hurried to her room.

Only when she had shut the door behind her and buried herself under her blankets did she allow herself to cry. She was so sick and tired of crying, she felt like it's all she'd done for weeks. It was strange to her, she'd taught herself from a young age how not to cry or show emotion. It was rare that her strong resolve ever broke. Lately, it was a constant battle to even get out of bed.

She thought she'd been doing a good job of fooling everyone into thinking that she was at least trying to cope with this. But today, she just didn't feel like fighting. She didn't feel like being strong anymore. She also didn't want anyone to see her like this. So she decided she wasn't going to let anyone see her for a few days.

The team would understand, if they tried to talk to her and she didn't respond, they'd wait for her. They were all always so good about not pushing her. They seemed to know that only made it worse. George would leave her alone if she asked. The only person she was going to have a hard time getting to leave her alone would be Hotch. It's not that she didn't appreciate how much he cared, she just needed him to care from a distance for just a little while.

Emily grabbed her phone from the nightstand by her bed and turned it off before gently placing it back on the smooth surface. Grudgingly, she got out of bed and went downstairs to find George and tell him that she wasn't feeling well. That wasn't a complete lie. He told her to feel better and he would come and check on her later.

The brunette went back up to her room, but walked past it at the last moment. She walked to Elizabeth's room again and made herself go inside. She carefully lay on the bed and pulled the quilt at the end of the bed over her head. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to pretend for just a moment that Elizabeth was still alive. However, that thought made the lump in her throat grow larger, so she quickly forced herself to think of something else.

She wasn't sure how long she lay there under the blanket, trying to avidly think of anything but Elizabeth. Eventually, she heard the door creak open and she knew George was coming to check on her. She hoped if she lay still enough, he would think she was sleeping and go away. That seemed to work, because after a few seconds she heard the door close again and she was alone. Her mind kept coming back to her mother. She knew partially that was because she was huddled under the quilt that had been in Elizabeth's hospital room until she died, and partially because she hadn't really been alone since it happened.

There had always been someone around her to distract her. Sure, she'd cried. She thought she'd at least gotten past the point of crying every single day. But clearly she hadn't, and she wondered if taking some time to be alone would help her to cope. She just wanted to stop feeling like there was a weight on her chest and in her head. She wanted to be able to get out of bed without wanting to crawl right back in it. She wanted to take a breath and have it feel normal, not like it was a struggle. She knew there was a possibility that she might not be able to get through this by herself, or even with the help of her friends. But until she tried all she knew, she wasn't going to think about that yet. Of course, she wasn't against professional help. She just hated talking about herself and how she was feeling. Usually that made her even more anxious and upset than she already was. But if she needed it, she'd look into it.

For now though, she was content to shut everyone and everything out for as long as possible.

XxxxX

Emily's isolation plan worked for a total of three days. George checked on her a few times a day, and he knew she was only pretending to be sleeping. He'd bring her food and set it on the bedside table, but Emily would barely touch it. She just lay there, under a quilt, faking sleep every time he came in.

The older man knew that Emily needed to be alone, he knew she liked to handle things by herself. It was never uncommon even as a teenager for Emily to lock herself in her room for a day or so. But George had never seen her like this before. She was practically catatonic. She never spoke, she hardly moved from her mother's bed. He knew this was most definitely the hardest thing Emily had ever dealt with, and he wanted to respect her desire to be alone. But he also cared more about her health, and he knew this wasn't healthy.

Although he knew initially Emily might be upset, he hoped she would understand that he was only trying to help her. He called Hotch to come and maybe get her to talk to him. He promised to come by that evening after work. George just hoped he was right about this being a good thing. He cared about Emily and just wanted her to work toward getting better.

He left Emily alone for the rest of the afternoon, only checking on her once before Hotch was to come and be with her. He'd made her a sandwich earlier in the day, and he was happy to see she'd at least eaten a few bites of it. That was more than he'd been able to get her to eat in three whole days. He hoped that was a good sign and she was starting to feel a little bit more like herself. He hated seeing her so upset.

XxxxX

Emily felt exhausted, like she'd been working relentlessly on a case for days; although she had practically been lying in the same spot for days. Truthfully, she hadn't done much sleeping. She spent most of her time crying or thinking. Currently, her thoughts were consumed with everything she wished she'd been able to tell her mother before it was too late. Emily knew how unhealthy it was to focus on the negatives, she knew she was only psychologically torturing herself, and yet somehow she couldn't stop.

She had never told Elizabeth about what happened in Italy when she was only fifteen. She never fully explained to her mother why she'd decided to go into law enforcement in the first place. Emily had never even fully disclosed what happened with Doyle, or how serious the whole fiasco was. She'd just had someone tell Elizabeth that she had been involved in a confidential case and would be faking her death for a bit.

Emily had always meant to tell Elizabeth everything; she was just waiting for the right time. But she waited too long and now she would never be able to tell her any of it. Then, to make matters worse, her father had to show up and stir up old feelings. She wished Elizabeth was still alive so she could talk to her about him. She'd never really brought him up with her mother after they officially divorced. She knew they didn't get along, but she also knew that at some point, there had to have been some good feelings in there somewhere.

She wished she'd been brave enough to ask Elizabeth about him.

She was fighting back another round of tears when she heard the door creak open again. She frowned, her head buried in a giant pillow as she lay on her stomach. George had just come to check on her not that long ago. She didn't want to talk to him, so she just lay still like she always did and hoped he would go away.

But he didn't. She heard footsteps coming closer and then she felt the other side of the bed dip with the weight of someone sitting on it.

She realized without even lifting her head up, that it was Hotch. She just knew. She missed him; she could easily admit that to herself. It had been hard not talking to him for three days, but somehow it would have been even harder if he'd been there checking up on her. She couldn't hide from him.

She felt a gentle hand rest on her back. The warmth of his touch was enough to make her want to burst into tears.

"I know you're not sleeping," Hotch whispered softly. He knew her well enough to know just by her breathing whether she was truly asleep or not. "But I won't make you talk. I just want you to know if you want to, I'll be right here." His voice was soft and light and made her feel safe. She loved it and hated it all at the same time. She didn't move from where she was lying for a few minutes, and Hotch didn't say anything else. She felt him move his thumb back and forth across her back comfortingly.

She knew there was no more hiding.

She moved to lie on her side as she finally looked at him. He was still wearing work clothes, sans a suit jacket. He'd kicked his shoes off before he sat on the bed, his legs outstretched before him as he leaned against the headboard. His white shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His tie was also missing and Emily wondered where he'd placed it. He was smiling softly at her; his dimples always seemed to put her at ease.

He still didn't say anything, he just moved his hand to take hers in his, interlacing their fingers loosely.

She kept quiet for a few more moments, allowing herself to appreciate having such a wonderful person in her life. Someone that understood the way her mind worked, someone that wouldn't pressure her to talk about anything, someone that would let her come to him when she was ready.

She took a breath, and for the first time in three days she finally spoke.

"How much?" She asked him, her voice tired and raspy. She knew she didn't make sense, but she knew he'd let her explain in her own time.

"How much what?" Hotch asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"How much is a person expected to take before it stops?" She wondered, knowing it wasn't fair to try to get him to answer an impossible question.

Hotch gently pulled Emily closely to him, his arm wrapped her protectively. He knew exactly what she was talking about. When faced with tragedy, it feels like that overwhelming surge of emotions is never going to go away. He wished he could make it stop for her, he wished he could give her an exact answer, but he couldn't.

"I know you feel lost and alone, but you're not alone. You're never alone, Em." Hotch let her know. She nodded against him and let herself cry, definitely not for the first time and most certainly not for the last.

She found comfort with him, his embrace making her feel like she was in control, even though tears were rapidly spilling out of her eyes. She realized as she buried her face into her chest that she was tired of being alone and she was tired of hiding. She was ready to work through her feelings with Hotch right by her side.