Emily awoke to Ian squeezing her shoulder, shaking her gently. "Em? Emily! It's okay, you're safe. You were having a nightmare," he soothed and that's when she realized she'd been screaming.
She brought one hand to her chest, feeling her heart racing beneath her palm, and she struggled to regain control over her breathing, each lungful of air like thick smoke, burning and choking on the way down. "Declan?" she asked, voice and hands trembling.
She struggled to shake off the hazy layer of sleep that muddled her brain, the memories of her dream disappearing as quickly as she tried to recall them, insubstantial as quicksilver moonlight. The only thing that she could be absolutely certain of was the fear that they left behind, settled deep in her chest like a crushing weight until she could barely move.
"He's safe, Love. You were only dreaming," he assured her, stroking her mussed hair off her sweaty forehead. When she met his gaze, he could see sheer terror in her eyes where she only ever let him see a facade of absolute strength.
"I need..." she stammered, struggling to put voice to her fear – partly for lack of air, partly because she could scarcely explain it to herself, "I need to see him, to know..." She trailed off, unable to say it aloud, but when her eyes caught his, he understood her lack of words perfectly.
He studied her for a moment, then brushed the back of his knuckles over her flushed cheek and pressed a kiss to her clammy forehead. "I'll get him." The fact that he didn't argue the matter of waking the boy conveyed how truly frightened she must look.
For a few moments, she sat there in the semi-dark, panting, trying to calm her racing heart. The palpable fear, the swimming vision of her son's lifeless body, floated just out of reach of her waking mind, still so real, so vivid.
Ian returned with Declan limp in his arms like a ragdoll, still fast asleep, and he gently settled the boy next to her. "Now, tell me what's upset you so, Love," he quietly coaxed.
With a tender smile, she gently stroked the hair away from the boy's peaceful face, her fingers lightly tracing his cherubic features. "I just... I can't stop thinking about that little girl and how close her parents came to losing her. How easily we could lose him too..." Her palm came to rest on his chest, slowly rising and falling with his breath to remind herself that he was still there. "There are so many people willing to snuff out a child's life like it's nothing, like it's a match and I can't protect him..."
"It was only a dream. Nothing is going to happen to Declan, so long as I draw breath," he vowed. He reached for her hand, squeezing it so she was forced to look in his eyes.
"How can you be sure?" she countered. "You have so many enemies... God, what if one of them found us? And that's not to speak of those that might like to hurt me – I've done my best to keep him from my files, but that doesn't mean he's been kept a secret from everyone." She paused, shook her head, blinking too hard, too often. "He's only a child..."
"I'd sooner die than let anything happen to him and I know that you would too."
"And what of the things we can't protect him from?" she murmured. "He's so young, so vulnerable, and there are so many threats we're helpless to stop. How do you live every day feeling so helpless?" She gasped, choked on a thick desperate sob.
He carefully took her face in his hands. "Breathe, Em, breathe."
She blinked against the onslaught of tears, fighting to slow her breaths. "He's only a child..."
"He's a child with a mother who'd do anything to protect him. That's why you took this job, isn't it? To fight the monsters?"
"Ian, I'm being serious," she said plaintively. "For every killer, every rapist, every abductor we put away, how many are still out there?"
He sighed. "Here's the thing, Love. We can't protect him from everything. That's life. But we can't shelter him forever. Yes, there are dangers, lots of them. But there are also joys and wonder and learning and all those parts of growing up. You can't stop him from experiencing those anymore than you can keep the rain from falling. Nor should you..."
Eyes watery, she looked down at Declan, one hand on his chest, feeling his little heart beating beneath her palm. "I never want him to lose his sweet little soul," she whispered. "I want him to stay this innocent forever."
"With you for a mother, I've no doubt that he'll grow up to do great things," he assured her. "Even with me as a father."
"Ian..." she started to console, but he shook his head.
"I've no disillusions, Love. But I know that with you raising him, our son will grow up to be a good man – with or without me."
"Ian," she scolded, "Don't even joke about that. I want you around for a long, long time. I have no idea what I'd do without you, how I'd raise him without you."
He chuckled softly and pulled her in to kiss her forehead.
She frowned. "What?"
"I just never thought I'd see the day when the self-reliant Emily Prentiss needed a man for anything."
She rolled her eyes. "I didn't say I needed you, just that I wanted you."
"You want me now, do you?" He grinned, entirely too lasciviously for her liking.
She pulled back to affix him with a stern look. "Your son is right there..." she pointed out, "And you're undressing me with your eyes."
"I'm always mentally undressing you," he said with mock innocence. "If I put the boy back to bed...?" he asked when she continued to stare at him, unimpressed.
Sighing dramatically, she rolled her eyes. "I'm not about to fall back asleep any time soon," she conceded.