Two weeks passed from my hospital visit until I returned to desk duty. Two additional weeks and I was back in the field.
I attended four therapist appointments – one every week – and she cleared me hesitantly. She warned that I wasn't dealing with the trauma in a healthy way. I wasn't sure what trauma she was talking about.
While the Cyrus beating was painful, it just seemed like another day in the field to me. It wasn't giving me nightmares or leaving me afraid. We knew going into that building that things could go south quickly if they didn't believe our story.

I had talked to JJ about Hotch and I. She told me that if we were serious about this, that we needed to tell the team soon. I promised her I would talk to Hotch and that she wouldn't need to keep the secret for too long.
Really, I wasn't sure if I was lying or not.

My birthday passed, and I made sure it was just a low-key dinner at Rossi's with the team. I didn't want a party or presents, or any celebration at all. However, Garcia told me she had to do something, so I accepted the dinner.

My first case back was Modesto, the Highway 99 killer. Surprisingly, that case didn't bother me as much as I thought it would have. I felt like I should have had more of a reaction.
The Las Vegas case did have quite an impact.

Jordan working alongside us now that JJ had Henry – early, to her dismay – had made the team feel a little unstable to me in the beginning. Soon, I didn't have the time to think about her presence while there were kids out there with their lives on the line.

After we successfully found all kids and their carer, and put Rothchild away, we went home tired.
Garcia had called me an hour after I got home and asked how tired I was, exactly. She wanted to go out. I accepted the invitation; a drink would be nice. I suggested inviting Jordan, but she quickly declined that thought. I knew she felt threatened having someone new in JJ's place. Even if it was only temporary, Garcia was not good with change.

I went with the intention of having a few glasses of wine and heading home, but she had different ideas.
After she ordered me a couple of gin and tonics, she began ordering long island iced teas.
Granted, we didn't have work tomorrow, but still…we didn't need to be smashed.
I drank with her anyway; she was having some issues with Kevin and seemed to need to vent.

I contemplated telling her about Hotch but decided against it. I didn't need to upset her any more than she already was with Kevin.
By the end of the night, I told her we'd get separate cabs. She asked why, considering we didn't live far from each other. I told her I wasn't going home, which was enough for her to let me go, obviously understanding I was going to see a guy I didn't want her to know about.
I was surprised that she didn't question me on it.

I got to Hotch's apartment a little past midnight. I saw the light on in the main room and knew he was up, probably doing paperwork. I wasn't sure whether to use my key or knock when I got to his door. I was pretty drunk, so I decided to knock quietly; it would take me a while to find the key and get the door open.
I heard his steps come to the door and pause, presumably to check the peep hole. He opened the door for me and moved to let me in. "Are you okay? Why are you awake?"

"I was out with Garcia." I smiled at him, wrapping my arms around his waist.

"You're drunk," He concluded, "Please tell me you didn't walk here."

"No, I got a cab," I stood on my toes and kissed him deeply. He seemed almost surprised, but he returned it after a short moment. I looked back into his eyes and smirked, "I want you to fuck me." I whispered. I knew he'd understand that my choice of word meant I wanted him to be rough.

"Emily, you're drunk. We can't have sex of any capacity."

I frowned, "We're together. We can sex drunk…" I could hear that the words didn't come out right but I didn't bother trying to correct myself. I moved my lips to his jaw and kissed along to his ear, and then down his neck.

"Emily, stop," he pushed me back lightly, "I can't take advantage of you."

"You're not. I am asking you to fuck me. Rough. Do you want me to record myself asking—"

"That is not necessary," He shook his head at me, "Jack is asleep, you can't wake him…"

I smirked again, "Is that a yes?"

He just sighed before telling me to go to his room. I sat on his bed and waited for him to lock up. He closed the door behind him and looked at me. "Okay, no. You are way too gone for sex."

I shook my head, "Am not."

"Take your shirt off." He challenged. I tried to get it off but failed to get it off my arms. He shook his head and walked to me, slipping it off for me. He kissed my hair and looked at me, "We're not having sex. We're going to sleep."

I looked up at him standing in front of me and smiled, tilting my head. He brushed my hair behind my ear and raised his eyebrows at me, waiting for me to either argue or lay down. "I love you." I said quietly. After the initial shock at my admission, he kissed me long and passionately. I moaned into him as I lay back, pulling him down with me. He kissed me for a while longer but never removed any more of my clothes or his.
I whimpered in frustration when he slowed his kisses and removed himself from over me.

"Bedtime, sweetheart." He took his shirt off and got into bed. I kicked my heels off and lay on his chest.

"Please?" I whispered after a few silent minutes, seeing only darkness. I moved my hand slowly down his body.

"No." He whispered back. He caught my hand before it got there, and he moved it back to his chest.

I woke up with a splitting headache, but the smell of bacon and the sound of Jack's giggle were what caught my attention first. I sat up and stretched before getting up. I slipped my shirt back on and went across to the bathroom. Once finished, I combed my fingers through my hair to neaten it the best I could, and brushed my teeth with toothpaste and my finger, trying to get the alcohol taste out of my mouth. It took two caps of mouthwash to finally remove it, and then I made my way to the main room.

"Good morning," he smiled at me when I walked in. I just hummed lamely.

"Hi Emmy." Jack smiled, shrinking into himself, clearly shy.

I smiled at him warmly, "Good morning, Jack."

Hotch handed a coffee mug out to me and I thanked him quietly. He placed a chaste kiss on my lips and returned to the bacon. I was a little shocked that he would kiss me in front of Jack, but then I remembered that he apparently already spoke to Haley about me. He motioned for me to sit, so I sat down at the counter island beside Jack's highchair and smiled at him.
Hotch placed a plate of bacon down in front of me and stood across the counter with his own. He watched Jack and smiled as he ate. I picked at a piece of bacon, just tearing it into a few pieces. "You're not hungry?" Hotch asked me after a minute or so.

I smiled at him, a little embarrassed, "I just don't feel very well…"

"Yeah, you were bad." He nodded.

I sighed, "I'm so sorry that I came here. I don't know why I didn't go home."

He looked down, seeming conflicted before he spoke hesitantly, "Do you remember what happened last night?" I just shook my head, again feeling embarrassed. I wish I never came here. "You asked for rough…" he glanced at Jack and then back to me to continue, "But you were too drunk, so I refused. Then you told me that you loved me." He looked at me directly with that.

My mouth fell open and I closed my eyes, shaking my head to myself. I felt the panic rise and quickly identified the anxiety attack coming. I got up quickly and grabbed my bag, heading for the door.

"Emily, stop." Hotch called out to me, walking around the counter and Jack to get to me before I left. I got out the door before he caught me and went straight for the staircase, descending as quickly as I could manage. I thanked god that he had Jack and couldn't just follow me down.
Once outside, I realised that I was in no state to drive last night and that my car was still at the bar. It was too far to walk, so I rang JJ.
She picked up with a cheery tone, and I asked her to pick me up and take me to my car. I would have called Garcia or any other member of the team who didn't have a newborn and possibly resting, but then I'd need to explain why I was outside of Hotch's apartment.
JJ said she and Will were already out and would be here in five minutes.

JJ asked if I was okay while Will drove to the bar. I tried to brush her off despite her admitting that she could see I was anxious. She asked if I wanted to come over to her place. I was going to decline, but then I realised that it was only a matter of time before Hotch showed up at my door and made me talk to him. Instead, I told her I'd go shower and change, and then I'd come over.

On my drive home, I let myself think about what was making me so anxious. Did I love him? Absolutely, I did. That became blatantly obvious to me in New York.
I didn't want to be the first one to say that, or even imply it, though. Too many times I had told someone I loved them, just for them to stab me in the back. I was worried about what the admission would do to Hotch and I. Would he leave? Would he just flat out tell me that he didn't love me? Would he hurt me like Doyle, or in a different way like Ryan? Although, I couldn't recall a time I ever spoke those words to Ryan. By the time I was with him, I was already far too damaged.

I knew I couldn't avoid him forever; that wasn't plausible. He was my boss, he had a key to my apartment, he knew where everyone on the team lived, and he had Garcia to track me if I did take it all the way and try to run. I was so good at that, running.

I was embarrassed, too. It was the most terrible feeling to love someone and know that they didn't feel the same way.
It would make any future time together feel awkward and uncomfortable for me.

I spent the day with JJ and Will. I told JJ about the whole situation, not worried about Will being involved either. He was a part of the family now, so I may as well treat him as such. I liked him; he was so sweet and kind to JJ.
I cuddled Henry and fell in love with him all over again.

I went home before dinner and picked myself up some Chinese food on the way home.

On Sunday night I decided to end the weekend with a bottle of wine and my hot tub. On my second glass of wine, I heard my front door open and close inside. I knew he was here and I really didn't want to have this conversation. I just sipped the wine when he came outside and stood on the opposite side of the tub, looking at me. I kept my eyes on the wine.

"Emily." He finally spoke. I sighed and looked up at him slowly. I didn't quite meet his eyes. "I need you to talk to me."

"About what?"

"About why you acted the way you did when I told you that you said you loved me. Why you won't return my texts or calls for the past two days. Why you won't meet my eyes…"

"I didn't mean it," I started. I saw the disappointment cross his face; he looked almost upset, "No, I don't mean I didn't mean it, I mean I didn't mean to say it."

"So if you meant it, why are you so anxious about saying it?" He asked, sitting down on the opposite side of the tub.

Tears started to move into my eyes. I tried desperately to breathe and blink them away, but the look of concern on his face told me they were obvious to him, even in the dark of the night. "I don't know."

"You do know, Emily. Talk to me. You need to trust me."

"I do trust you…" I took a deep breath and looked down, "Every person I have ever told those words to, has either left me or hurt me. I promised myself that this would never happen again; I wouldn't love anymore, I wouldn't ever voice it again.
"We really haven't been together very long at all, and now I've ruined it, and I feel uncomfortable and awkward, and I don't want you to leave."

"I'm not leaving, sweetheart," He spoke this quieter, but I still heard it over the spa jets, "You haven't ruined anything. What you've done is reassure me that this is serious for you as well. Honestly, I wasn't totally convinced that you were in this for the long run. You have a reputation of being a bit…flighty…and now I don't have to worry anymore."
He walked around and turned the jets and spa off, and then held his hand out to me. I took his hand and stepped out, the cold air hitting me instantly. He wrapped my towel around me and lead me inside.

I didn't speak at all as he took my wine glass and bottle into the kitchen. He put the wine in the fridge and rinsed the glass out, and then returned to me with a glass of water.

"I might not be ready to say it yet – courtesy of the damage Haley did, I realised today – but that doesn't mean I haven't thought about it. I don't want you to feel like you've misinterpreted something or gone too far, too quickly," He motioned for me to drink some of the water. I wasn't sure whether he thought I was drunk and needed to sober up, or it was just for my hydration after crying. Either way, it was a sweet gesture. "Will you tell me what you mean when you say others have hurt you?"

I looked at him properly now, "You can't connect those dots yourself?" It was snarkier than I intended, but I really didn't want to have to go through this with him. He just watched me, waiting silently for me to open up to him. I sighed, "I mean that in previous relationships, men have hurt me. Usually after I've told them I've loved them, because once you're that far into something it's a lot harder to walk away."

"You think I'm going to hurt you?" He asked quietly, his voice pained at the thought.

I shook my head, "No, I don't mean I think you specifically will hurt me…I just mean that those words are associated with abuse for me."

"How many of your previous relationships have been abusive?" He questioned. Was he trying to find out how deep my baggage went? Was this what would decide for him if I was worth it or not?

"…All of them," I looked down, "Well, that's not correct. The guy I was with prior to Ryan wasn't abusive at all. Ryan hadn't gotten that far; he was a little emotionally manipulative but not outright abusive."

"These previous men were emotionally, psychologically, physically, sexually, or financially abusive?"

"All of the above. Not all at the same time, but I've had all of those happen."

"I'm sorry," He spoke softly again. I just shook my head. There was nothing for him to be apologising for; I was the one that kept dating pathetic men. He took my hand, "I want you to tell me outright if you ever have fears that I am going to do anything like that to you, okay?" I just nodded. He placed a soft kiss against my lips. I melted into him. "Thank you for telling me that you love me." He whispered against my lips.

I pulled away quickly and stood up, taking the water glass to the kitchen. I was just trying to escape the situation.

"Emily," He approached me slowly, turning me gently and placing his hands on my waist, "I know you feel embarrassed, but you don't need to. You haven't done anything wrong; you've made me extremely happy, actually." He stepped closer to me again. I sighed and stood up straight, putting my hand behind his neck and guiding him back to my lips quickly. He lifted me onto the counter and continued to make out with me in the kitchen.
He only pulled away when he was out of air and needed a second. He latched onto my pulse point below my ear then, kissing and sucking lightly. I gasped quietly at the contact and closed my eyes. "I'm going to take you upstairs in a second. Would you like me to make love to you, or "fuck" you?" He used my words, which I knew wasn't easy for him; he hated using such crude language.

I smirked at him, letting my hand moved down to unbutton his jeans. I slipped my hand in to hold him and he hissed quietly, bit my lip and then soothed it with his tongue. I moaned and moved my hand over him slowly. "Fuck me." I whispered against his ear.

He gripped my thighs and carried me up the staircase and to my bedroom. He grabbed his cuffs from the back of his jeans, and then he took mine from where they sat on my dresser. He cuffed my hands to the top corners of the bed. I smiled and nodded when he looked at me, as if to ask if that was okay.
My towel had fallen in the kitchen, so I was only wearing quite a revealing red bikini set. He took his tie off and blindfolded me, taking sure he tied it enough that it wouldn't slip, but not tight enough to cause any pain or irritation. Then he seemed to disappear. It was quiet and I couldn't feel him over me anymore. I was a little afraid, mostly because I was restrained with no vision, and no idea where he was, but I was also excited. I trusted him not to hurt me.

Suddenly I felt him kissing me gently, and then moving down my body painfully slow and light. He was teasing me more than being intimate. I began to try and move under him, desperate for more contact, but with limited ability to move my upper body, he had all the control. He removed my bikini when he reached my breasts and took one into his mouth as soon as it was free from the fabric. I arched my back at the new sensation, a small gasp leaving me.

When he removed my bikini bottoms and was kissing the inside of my thighs, he lifted one leg up to bend, and then struck the back of my thigh, just below my arse. I yelped, not expecting him to do that. "Are you okay?" I heard him ask.

"Don't stop." I nodded frantically. It wasn't as hard as I wanted it to be. I had to remind myself that this was his first time doing any of this, and he was afraid of taking it too far and actually hurting me. After talking about the previous abuse downstairs, I thought he wouldn't want to try this with me anymore.
When he struck me again, careful not to hit the exact same spot, I couldn't stop the instruction leaving my mouth, "Harder." I could almost feel him hesitate, but he pushed past that. As his tongue met my clit, he slapped my other thigh. I moaned loudly at both sensations hitting me at once.

This was going to be fun to explore.