Here's the deal:
This was so hard to write, hundreds of ideas floating around in my mind and this particular chapter became more revealing too soon and ultimately was re-rewritten five times.
The negative; I'm not 100% happy.
The positive; I'm happy with where this could go. Potentially following on... as this will be drawing to a close soon!
Present day is following from the previous chapter, Ashes & Dusk.
Thank you to Virg92 for your latest reveiw; I was considering not finishing this but this was great to wake up to so, thank you!
-Present Day-
The few days the team had been in San Francisco had been a blur of ashes and smoke. Emily and Hotch had tailed the EDF leader for two days, where they finally had their question answered, Abby had cancer.
The raven-haired duo had bounced ideas off one another easily throughout their time together following Abby.
Hotch had been unusually quiet since they landed in the golden state. The case had bothered him since it had been presented in Virginia but being here and having his phone buzz repeatedly, along with the stress of the case, he was beginning to lose patience. With the revelation of Abby's condition and after speaking with the terminally ill man himself, memories of his own father had stated to flash in his own mind. He tried to breathe through the painful recollection but nothing seemed to work. The only that kept him sane throughout their time on the west coast was the fact that Emily didn't leave his side.
Emily had stuck to Hotch like glue ever since Gideon had given her silent permission to partner up with him for tailing the EDF Leader. Despite Hotch's blunt, one worded replies, she knew being here with him was the best place for her. She could see him - see that he was ok or as ok as he allowed her to see - and not have her mind trail off into an anxiety induced tangent. She was exhausted from the constant yo-yo of preparing herself for an emotional blow from the Unit Chief only for him to go back to being recluse.
/
Back at the station, Emily was reading through her file once more and stopped shy of the door that led to the makeshift conference room. She peered through the blinds and made out the figures inside, Hotch and Gideon. She knew Gideon was onto Hotch much like she had been. She didn't mean to eavesdrop, but Aaron's stoic defence failed to slip past the female agent, and she froze near the door unable to tear herself away.
"Well, you saw something in Abby that you identified with." Gideon said frankly and began to pace backwards and forwards.
Hotch willed the tears threatening to fall to stay at bay. He rolled his tongue and inhaled shakingly.
"I catch killers. I save lives. I'm a hero until my key hits my front door and then I'm just the father and the husband who's never there." He said disheartened. Emily bit her lip and her heart clenched at the tone to his voice. 'It's as if he hates himself' she thought. Pain tore through her. Even after all this time, hearing him upset was like a punch in gut.
"Yeah, I got that one" Gideon replied. The elder agent had seen the change in Hotch over the last few months and knew it would be a matter of time before the younger agent would either come to him or lose it entirely.
At Gideon's reply, Hotch continued whilst the idea was fresh in his mind.
"Here's the thing. When I'm home, I'm in this silent panic because I know that I have to be as good as I can, as fast as I can, because any minute the phone is going to ring and my time is up, and that panic is exactly what I saw in Abby." Hotch ranted on quickly.
Gideon encouraged him to put himself in the EDF leaders shoes. After a few more words of inspiration, they deduced that the only way to stop to the unsub as well as make things right was to burn him and call it in. Gideon left the room to share the theory with the teams in place completely unaware that Emily had overheard their interaction.
With trepidation, she entered the room silently to check on her leader. If a member of the team asked, she was there to reassess the evidence board. Her subconscious pursed her lips at her ploy. Hotch rubbed a hand over his forehead and then his eyes, erasing the unshed tears. He hunched over the table and braced his weight on his hands that had flattened onto the cold surface. Emily kept her back to the male agent as she continued to stare at the evidence in front of her. She cleared her throat to let him know she was there and glanced over her shoulder towards the door. When she saw they were very much alone, she focused her attention back to the board and addressed him.
"You need to breathe." She spoke.
His temper was near the surface once more. He was at boiling point. His demons threatening to rear their ugly heads. He couldn't let them win but he couldn't admit his need for help with keeping them at bay. The cool wood of the table was the only thing he could grasp onto to keep him grounded. It wasn't until Emily's voice pierced his ears once more that he realised he'd held his breath in an effort to control his bubbling emotions.
"Now Hotch, breathe!" She repeated in a hard tone.
Emily turned to face him and was greeted by the top of his head as he continued to look down at the table. His arms were shaking, and she could see wet drops splash onto the surface. Harsh pants escaped him as he tried to calm himself. She crossed her arms and sauntered over to him where she leaned her backside against the edge of the table next to him. She was close enough to him that she wasn't touching him but could feel the heat radiate from his body. 'Close enough' her inner voice reminded her.
"What can I do?" She asked gently.
Hotch's reply was faint, "Just give me a minute."
"Of course," the corner of her lip curled into a small sympathetic smile even though he didn't look up at her. She rocked forwards and made way to give him some space when a large, cool palm engulfed hers.
"Can you stay?" He said so quietly she only just heard the question leave his lips.
"Yes". Emily agreed.
She didn't move. Her fingers remained trapped by his and she fought off the twitch in her wrist from his warmth. She stood with him for one minute and watched him claw back his control. Emily's whole body was tense and fixed to the spot, a thousand questions and scenarios raced through her mind. She scolded herself; the Queen of compartmentalising and she couldn't work through her feelings for her boss especially in this proximity.
"Thank you… for being here" he whispered.
"Anytime" she offered genuinely, "Do you want to talk about it?" She enquired.
He raised up from the table and for the first time in days, his hazel eyes meet her brown ones.
Deadpanned.
Emotionless.
She braced herself for whatever shots he was going to fire at her knowing that Hotch and talking didn't go hand-in-hand.
"You know what?" He snapped. "I don't-…" he paused mind sentence and took a deep breath. "Yeah…"
"Oh okay… We should be finished her by tomorrow and I'm sure Haley will-…" she started, taken aback by the fact he was willing to talk. But he quickly interrupted her, his voice raising over hers.
"No. Work stays at work." He said flatly, quoting his wife but not making known to the brunette agent.
"This is hardly about work, Hotch. Does she even know? About your father?"
He shook his head and titled a little towards her. His eyes failed to reach hers again and he raised an eyebrow, something he subconsciously did when he put he cold front back on. "Just you..."
Surprise was an understatement. She stood aghast with her hand still tucked in his. Aaron didn't speak of his father but did once eight years ago and he hadn't spoke about it since? Dread coursed through her like white hot lava. It was textbook; suppressing emotions will result in horrific consequences and apart of her didn't want to be around to watch when Hotch's demons finally caught up to him.
"Why don't we get a cup of coffee when the case is over and we can talk, or we can sit there in silence. You don't have to do anything you don't want to." she suggested. The last thing she wanted was for Hotch to feel pressured and then to shut down completely. She respected him enough to understand how much his relationship with his father haunted him. The last time they spoke of him, he got hammered. Coffee was certainly a safe option if he took up her offer.
Hotch nodded in agreement without meeting her gaze. He could sense her trying to keep her emotions at bay. Her body tensed the second he touched her, and he marvelled at her willingness to control herself. Had this been the other way around, he would have pulled her into his arms and acted as any lifeline she needed. What Emily didn't know was that she was his lifeline right this second. His heart swelled at the thought.
He cleared his throat and glanced down at their hands. Deliberately, he turned his hand over and entwined their fingers, palm to palm. His thumb stroked over hers gently. Emily's breath caught in her throat at the gesture. The sound didn't miss the male agent. He smiled inwardly.
Blood thundered in Emily's ears as her eyes moved to where his were fixed. She watched Hotch's gun calloused thumb continue to brush over hers before she came to her senses; they couldn't be here like this, and she couldn't let him in. She wouldn't let him in, not where he could see her and pry out her true feelings.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"'Nothing… I was just thinking" he squeezed her hand and felt the smooth skin slide against his when she pulled her limb out of his grasp.
"We should head back out there." she scratched her neck and gestured to the door. Heat has risen to her cheeks and mentally she checked herself as she moved around the table as graciously as possible to pick up her file. 'Stupid stupid stupid!'
"You don't want to know what I was thinking about?" His voice thick with something she chose not to read into.
"No. I really don't." she said over her shoulder as she strode out of the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
-Flashback-
Sundays were slow in the Prentiss household. Hotch treated the day as a rest day and aimed to have all reports finished and new plan of action for the following week complete either Saturday evening or first thing Sunday morning. The day was entirely his upon finishing his work and on a day like this with raindrops falling hard against the windows and his relationship with the young Prentiss on the mend, he wanted nothing more than to relax.
He devoted time to swim as part of getting a workout done that was gentle for his newly injured shoulder. He manged 20-minute swim before calling it a day and spent the rest of the day in his room watching old movies, reading, and getting new ice packs to treat his injury.
Emily came into his room to drop off some food she had made him. Hotch sat up on his bed at the sound of the door opening and warmth spread through him at her carrying a small tray.
"Hey, I thought you might fancy a sandwich?" she said sweetly bringing the tray over to where he was sat up against his pillows. He was dressed in a comfortable loose button up shirt that was hanging over light blue, washed jeans. Hotch moved again, much less gracious, leaning on his good hand to sit up straight whilst the sling supported his injured shoulder.
With curious eyes, he looked at the tray and saw a large sandwich overflowing with whatever goodness she had decided to use, along with a small bowl of fruit and another with potato chips, a small vase containing colourful flowers and an electric blue ice pack.
"What's all this?" his eyebrows knit together.
"It's a snack for you and ice for your shoulder." she started as she moved the bowls from the tray and onto the duvet.
"And these?" he pointed to the vase.
"I know it looks lame, but guys deserve flowers too, and there's no colour in here so they're staying… unless you have allergies?" she stated.
Hotch smiled awkwardly, his cheeks slightly pink. "That's actually… really cute. Thank you". Emily set the vase on his nightstand and handed him the plate sporting his meal. She cupped his face and smiled back at his light blush. Her hand shifted from the side of his face into his hair, and she leaned down to give him a soft kiss.
"Allergies?" she asked against his lips. Hotch pulled back slightly to breathe against her mouth.
"Just kiwis" her muttered moving his face towards hers.
"Luckily, there are no kiwis in that vase" she mumbled against his lips as he kissed her gently. Emily sighed and leaned into him further, careful of the china on the bed. Her fingers curled in his hair, and he let out a soft grunt at the sensation of her nails scrapping against his scalp. Her tongue ran across his bottom lip before she took it between her teeth, nipping it gently and Hotch was gone.
He moaned throatily when she pulled away. Her eyes were filled with lust and her beautiful mouth was swollen. She brought her fingertips of her free hand up to gently touch her lips, the intensity of the kiss caught her off guard and if china didn't litter the bed, she would have had him right there and then.
"You okay?" he asked. She nodded still hypnotised from the feel of his lips against hers. She'd never tire of kissing him.
"I've missed you so much" he mumbled in an attempt to snap her out of it.
"You've already said that" she smiled.
"Right...Uhh, I love you?" He teased, grinning back at her.
"You've said that too" she giggled at his silliness. Her smile disappeared and darkness crept through her. As much as she enjoyed his company, whether they slept together or went on a drive, or stayed up talking, she couldn't fight against the doubt that always managed to claw its way back into her mind.
She moved away from the side of the bed where he sat and stood by the window, looking out to where she had sunbathed the previous day.
"What's wrong?" he asked surprised by the sudden change in her demeanour.
"This is so crazy… what happens in six weeks when I go back to college?" She started to panic.
"I'm not thinking about that, Em. I'm just wanting to be here with you, now, because now is what matters". He said gently but with an edge to his voice.
"We're going to get hurt Aaron" she said worryingly.
"I don't doubt things will be hard, but I don't want to think about tomorrow. I get there's a clock on this thing but whatever time I have, I'll take" he pleaded.
"And if we don't recover? Will you be ok with that? Because I don't think I will be".
"Let me worry about me-"
"I love you! Of course, I worry about you". Emily flapped her arms in frustration.
"Come here… come and lay with me for a sec" he said calmly, his voice smooth. He moved the bowls and plate onto his nightstand, the china clinked as he squeezed them onto the small surface. Hotch slid one leg outwards and pat the space between his legs as if to invite her wordlessly. He pulled the sling over his head and flung it towards the foot of the bed.
After a moment of apprehension, Emily moved back over to the bed and crawled between his legs and rested her head on his chest, next to his heart.
"Does it hurt?" She said softly, her finger traced over his right shoulder.
"No, I just forget about it sometimes and that's when I get a pain but wearing that thing helps" he nodded to the sling.
"We need to be careful" she said, feeling the vibration of him hum in agreement or contentment. He kissed the top of her head and breathed her in. Apart from a sore arm, he was in heaven.
He wrapped his weaker arm securely around her lithe body and his free hand lazily trailed up and down her back. Emily melted into him, he was so warm and safe. The hand on her back that was soothing eventually headed further south and rested on her ass.
Emily reached behind her to pull his hand from her backside and placed it onto her hair. She felt her body jiggle and heard a snigger escape from the man beneath her. He threaded his fingers into the brunette strands and massaged her scalp, still smiling from the act.
"I know what you're trying to do. It's not happening" she spoke into his chest.
"I'm not trying anything Em" he said with a grin as he pled his innocence.
Emily scoffed. "Yeah right, Mister Ass-man".
Laughter bubbled in his chest as he spoke, "What do you expect?"
"I expect old fashioned G rated cuddles" she argued with a smile dancing over her mouth. His laughter was infectious! The smooth baritone of his voice caressed her ears and she shivered against him.
"Aaah, look, I'm happy to have you in my arms." He replied. "It's not my fault that you have a nice ass… that I can reach from here." The arm around her waist clenched as if to press her even closer to him.
"Don't even think about it" she warned.
"A man can dream…" he said huskily.
"You're hurt, Aaron. So, your dreams will have to do for now".
-Present Day-
"I'll have a small coffee, with half and half please, and some biscotti. And he" she nodded to her left though Hotch wasn't next to her but at the end of the counter looking at a poster on the wall "will have a large black coffee and a blueberry muffin, oh and this too" she set down a small fruit bowl.
Hotch was pulled from his thoughts on the abstract poster when a tray scraped against the counter surface and their beverages graced the top. He felt Emily behind him and heard her ask where he wanted to sit. He chose a table by the window.
"Black coffee for you, two Splenda, and a muffin" she said sweetly as she placed the snack in front of him. He frowned at her though a small smile tugged his lips.
"I know you, Hotch". She said as she peeled the lid off the fruit bowl. With a small wooden fork, she quickly rampaged through the fruit cubes to find all the kiwi pieces and lapped them up. Once she was positive it was all gone, she slid the plastics bowl over to him.
"You remember?" Surprised ladened his voice. Warmth spread though him at the simple gesture.
"Sure do" she said matter of factly, flicking her own Splenda packet. "So, do you want to talk about the case?"
"I don't know what to say. Following Abby, I don't know – I got to thinking about my dad and it brought it back. I mean, he's still alive but he's been in hospice care for a long time."
"He's sick?" She asked taking a sip of her drink.
Hotch nodded swiftly and began to tuck into the fruit.
"How long?"
"Mm, he got cancer when I was a teenager and went into remission. This time I think he's been on dialysis for his liver…" he looked at her "alcoholic… tequila."
More pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place. "You don't drink tequila anymore…"
He set the empty bowl down and meet her eyes in a firm stare.
"No, I don't, and I should never have picked up the bottle in the first place. Learnt behaviour though". He shrugged.
"Good. That's good… have you seen him at all?"
"He came to see me after my first semester at college. But I couldn't really be around him. I was good, I sorted myself out and my grandpa took me under his wing, and I knew being around my dad would just set me back a million steps. He wasn't worth it. Mom had told me he wanted to see Sean and she let him a few times, but he drank again, and she put a stop to it." He said quietly.
"How did you find out about his illness the second time?".
"My mom told me. She's great, you know? She tells me enough and I know she wants to ask if I've been to see him or if I will go, but she doesn't." He spoke. "Truthfully, I don't want to see him. I see him enough in my mind" his voice low.
Emily sat and listened intently as Hotch opened up to her. She expected to sit her in silence with him, which would have been ok with her. Sometimes words just aren't needed and today, it looks like Hotch needed to get it all out. She was touched that he trusted her enough to listen. She was proud that had the courage to say these things out loud.
"It might be good for you to see him, Hotch" she suggested gently.
He paused as he removed the paper from his muffin. He sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes. 'Ohh shit'Emily's mind screamed.
"No." He replied bluntly and exhaled.
"Ok that's ok, I'm sorry" she stated calmly, hoping her tone would keep him settled.
"I know what you're doing but seeing him won't make me feel better. All he'll do is spout off his regrets and say he's sorry but sorry doesn't change anything. It doesn't give me childhood with a father who didn't drink and didn't hurt us". He ranted quietly.
"I know, I know" she held up her hands in defence.
"Sorry, I just… I'm always confused about how I should feel about him" he said sadly.
"He's your father, Hotch" she started.
"Yes. And inside I'm still this terrified kid or an angry teenager" he said in defeat. Emily eye skimmed over his face, not much had changed other than a few more lines that came with age and the job. She was pulled from her analysis of her ex-lover's face when her cell phone rang against her hip. She checked the caller ID and groaned dramatically.
"Don't tell me, another case already?"
Emily held up her finger to her lips to silently tell him to be quiet and he frowned.
"Hello mother" she said deadpanned.
Hotch's frown turned into a smile rapidly as he watched Emily roll her eyes at whatever the ambassador was saying to cause such action from the younger Prentiss in front of him.
"Yes… It's fine, mom. No, I don't want you to set me up." she hissed into the phone.
Hotch's face contoured in wonderment. He hoped she missed it… 'she's not dating, and she doesn't want to date?'
"Look, mom, we're flying back today so I'll speak to you soon… bye" she snapped her cell shut and let out a string of cuss words that would make a sailor raise his eyebrows at.
Hotch cleared his throat and leaned back into his chair. "How is the Ambassador?"
"I'm sorry. She knew I was working today. But the bi-weekly call to remind me that men won't chase after a woman staring down the barrel of thirty couldn't wait" she tutted and sipped her coffee again.
He didn't respond to her jibe. A million scenarios flashed in his mind. He was married and certainly not his father's son, but she was single.
"Hotch?"
His head snapped up "You're not dating anyone?"
"Nope." Emily replied frankly.
"And you won't date anyone?"
"It's not that I refuse to date… I just don't want to".
"Why not? You're smart and attractive… anyone would be lucky to have you." He replied honestly. It was true; smart and attractive were the tip of the iceberg when it came to the force that was Emily Prentiss. He tried to not sound pleased her relationship status of lack thereof. The idea of her dating anyone sent a cold shiver down his spine. He had no right to be jealous and had no right to ask her about her personal life, but curiosity had overcome him and just maybe, there would be a chance… sometime… maybe…
"I don't want just anyone, Hotch" she turned her attention to the window. Hoping, praying she didn't just open a door she wouldn't be able to close.
"What do you want then?" He said inquisitively. His tummy did somersaults in anticipation for her answer.
"I want to not have this conversation with you." she said standing from the table. She grabbed her bag and Hotch watched speechless when she raised up and walked out of the coffee shop. He smiled to himself as he collected their empty cups and trash to throw out.
He looked down the street towards where they had parked the SUV and Emily was marching quickly in the direction of the car. He sighed and took off after her, not too hot on her heels. Emily stopped just after a minute of speed walking away from her boss as she remembered that he had the keys. 'Fucking good one, Prentiss'.
Aaron walked a couple of steps ahead of her and paused too.
"Forget these?" He dabbled the car keys in front of her. He leaned downwards patronisingly so his eyes were in line with hers. Anger boiled low in her tummy.
"Why can't you talk to me?" he asked. "We're friends, no?"
"Seriously? I think 'friends' is a hell of a stretch. You tolerate me at best." She clicked her tongue. "Why do you have to over analyse everything?"
He shrugged, "The job… habit?"
"No, it's not the job. You're looking for something that isn't there. Do you feel the need to get even with me because you're still pissed about waking up alone all those years ago?". She scoffed and continued with a sad note to her voice.
"You're married… why do you get to be the one to do this?
Hotch was surprised himself at his inability to speak. He knew he was play with fire and he ashamedly enjoyed getting closer to the flame. He would never cross the line but there would be a time where he and his wife would need to talk about their marriage as it simply wasn't working for either of them.
"Well?" she enquired impatiently.
"I don't know". He answered.
"You don't know? That's it? Ugh!" she spat at him. A cocktail of fury, confusion and anxiety swirled inside her. She looked at her hands and started to pick at the short nails.
Hotch watched her nervous habit rear its ugly head. Something she obviously hadn't be able to shake since she was in her early twenties. His heart lurched. She didn't need his protection, but he couldn't help the basic instinct when he was around her. He reached forwards and covered her hands with one of his.
"Hey… stop that" he said gently.
"You're cold one minute and then you're hot the next. I can't keep having the same conversation with you, Hotch. It's hard enough to work with you and see you every day, to listen to you talk to someone else… I know you're unhappy, but you need to figure out what it is you want. Just stop chasing me" she begged.
Hotch listened to Emily reel off and couldn't stop himself from stroking his thumb over the soft skin on the back of her hand much like he did the day before. He missed her. A lot.
"Hotch…" she sighed and attempted to tug her hands out from his grip that had tightened. Her left hand slipped free, but he held tight onto her other.
"What?" he asked rather sharp.
"We are dancing dangerously close to the edge of a cliff here." she said exasperated. A tut left her lips as she grew more uncomfortable than she already was "Will you let me go?" She tried to free the hand still locked with his.
"So?" He replied petulantly.
"I'm not doing this. Let me go right now, or I'll scream" she told him firmly.
"You'll scream?" He challenged stubbornly with an amused smile threatening his lips.
"Bloody murder." She held his stare, willing him to test her.
Before she could rise to her challenge, Hotch dropped her hand. She curled the limb protectively in the other and rubbed her knuckles.
"I'm sorry if I hurt you" he said hoarsely.
"You are hurting me, Hotch. This, you… you're not being clear about what you want or what you're doing or why." She looked at him with tears in her eyes.
He scoffed "Oh, and you are?"
"I've told you that we're not talking about us, that there is no us. That nothing is here because there is nothing. You're not listening to me… or you're choosing not to, you stubborn jackass!" she explained sarcastically with force, anger burned through her, and her eyes bore into him.
"Yes, but you haven't told me how you feel about me when I've asked."
"Because I don't feel anything! I feel like you're annoying and that you're a stubborn jackass… that answer your question?" she bit out. Honestly, she didn't know what she was feeling towards the man and had he left her to work like the rest of the team, she wouldn't be up at night trying to decipher her emotions.
Hotch groaned in frustration. "Liar."
Emily wanted so bad to slap him, but they were tip toeing on a line between Agents and Ex-Lovers. Arguing with him when he was in a mood like this; picking apart every little action or word, was futile. The only way to get out of this situation was to rise above, which she did.
"Can I have the keys please; I'd like to drive" she kept her expression neutral, not wanting him to read into anything she said or did.
Hotch had lost the battle, but the war was only just beginning. He'd need to go home and have a long, painful conversation with his wife. When that time or place would occur was another story but one thing he was positive on; he was in love with the brunette agent whom he handed the car keys to, and come hell or high water, he was going to get her.
Thank you all for sticking around. In the UK, Easter is a National Holiday so Good Friday and Easter Monday are days off work (industry dependant) and we get a long weekend. I'll be using it to write and spend time with family. Chapter 13 might be up much earlier :D
