Note: Hey, friends. I'm back with another lovely chapter! I had several ideas about where to take this story, but this is my favorite. It's bringing back the angst, but it should dissipate by the end of the chapter if all goes as planned. I've learned this story has a mind of it's own. I'm just writing reactions to the things that happen. It all falls into place on its own. I love you btw. (All medical information is wrong but necessary for the plot. Don't think too hard.)

Aaron woke up with a sense of dread. He couldn't place the reasoning, but he attributed it to a bad dream he couldn't remember. The past couple of weeks had been great. He and Lia were spending more time together, and he couldn't wipe the smile off his face when he spoke to Emily. They were growing closer by the day, but he didn't want to take any chances by making a move. Of course, he loved her, but she didn't need to know that just yet. He couldn't remember a time when he wasn't in love with her. Logically, he knew it existed, it just wasn't something he could think about. He was shaken from his state of thought by the shrill ringing of his phone. "Hello?"

"Dad, thank God."

"Lia? What's wrong? You sound upset."

"Um… It's Mom. Don't freak out, but she's in the hospital. The one by your old office. I'll explain everything once you get here. It isn't life-threatening from what they've told me so far. But, we need you here."

Before she could even finish her thought, he was halfway out the door. "I'm on my way." She nodded her head, forgetting he couldn't see her, and hung up the phone.

—

Lia didn't know what happened exactly. Emily still had some wounds that hadn't healed all the way, but she woke up describing severe abdominal pain. Lia didn't know what to do. Emily kept insisting she was fine, but when she collapsed in the kitchen, Lia immediately called an ambulance. She was terrified. The moment she got to the hospital waiting room, she called her dad. As much as she loved the rest of her family, she knew they both really needed Hotch there at that moment. The rest had great intentions, but they would smother them.

She kept replaying the events of that morning in her mind. Then she thought back to the night before. Everything was fine. She had no idea she would be sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chairs of the hospital waiting room the next morning. She was planning on inviting her father over to dinner. She had been thinking about ways she could push her parents to get back together without scaring them off. It all seemed so trivial now that she had bigger things to worry about. God, she was terrified. As many times as the paramedics said it was a minor post-surgery complication, she wouldn't believe her mother was okay until she could see her.

—

Emily woke up that morning in pain. She'd felt pain that was much worse, but it was still pretty damn uncomfortable. When she stood to go get some pain medication, it got worse. The pain lined up with her fresh scars, so she assumed it was just something to do with that. The only thing she knew for sure was that she didn't want to go back to the hospital. She could not put Lia through that again. They all tried to avoid talking about Emily's kidnapping, but she knew she wasn't the only one that was affected by the whole situation. She had a lot of things to work through, and she was even searching for a counselor that may be able to help, but she couldn't go back to the hospital yet.

Then, she collapsed. The next thing she knew, she was lying in a hospital bed with several tubes connected to her. How's that for avoiding the hospital?

—

"Dad! Thank God you're here. The doctor just came out and gave me a room number." Before he had fully walked into the room, she ran over to give him a hug. Seeing each other eased both of their anxieties.

"Hey. So she's okay? What happened? Are you okay? What did the doc—"

"Take a breath. She's apparently fine, but it was terrifying. The doctors said it was some type of surgery complication. They have it under control now. I'm not sure about the details because I zoned out after I heard 'She's going to be fine.'" He took a deep breath and relaxed ever so slightly.

"Okay, so you're okay?" His concerns for Emily momentarily took back seat to his concern for the young woman standing before him.

"Yeah, I'm okay. At least I will be. Let's go see her." They were both breathing a little easier than when they first arrived at the hospital, but they were still a little nervous to go see the woman they both loved lying helplessly in a hospital bed. It's nothing against her, but there really is no other way to lay in a hospital bed than helplessly. They just weren't very prepared to see her that way.

Lia led the way to the room the doctor directed her to, and she carefully opened the door. Hotch said something about giving her a moment alone with her before he came inside, but Lia wasn't really listening as she entered the room. "Hey, Mom. How are you feeling? Any better?"

She was smiling, which Lia took as a good sign. "Much better. It's probably because of the pain meds they gave me, but I'll take it. How are you?"

Lia shakes her head in disbelief. Even when she's in the hospital, her mother is more concerned about Lia than herself. "Mom, I'm okay. Really. I was worried about you there for a bit, but the doctors say you're going to be fine. They're going to keep you here for a couple of days for observation, but you're going to be just fine."

"You think if you keep repeating it that it'll sink in?" They both smile. Sometimes she forgets her mother is a profiler.

"I'm hoping so, yeah." She moves to sit in a chair beside the bed, but then she remembers that she left Hotch in the hallway. "Crap. I'll be back. With company, if that's okay." They both knew who she was talking about. He had been coming around much more frequently lately, which was perfectly fine with both of the girls. They enjoyed having him around almost as much as he enjoyed their shared time.

"Yeah, tell him I'm fine. He's not going to believe you, or me for that matter, or even the doctors themselves, but at least give it a shot." Sometimes she was amazed that she still knew Hotch so well, but, in all honesty, he hadn't changed much in twenty years. This should probably be concerning, but it worked in Emily's favor in this case. She was smiling as she thought about him. He was probably worriedly pacing outside of the hospital door, waiting for the all-clear that Emily wasn't going to kick him out or tell him to go to Hell. Which was fair.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" She was quickly becoming tired of the question, but she nonetheless smiled and gave a perfunctory answer. Lia took the slightly awkward silence as a cue that they needed some alone time without their teenage daughter in the room. She made some excuse about grabbing coffee and quietly left the room. It wasn't clear if anyone heard her or noticed her exit, but that was fair.

"I promise I'm fine. I'm not faking. I'm not putting on a brave face. I'm genuinely okay, Aaron." Although she was feigning slight annoyance, she had a bright smile on her face that contradicted her tone.

"Okay. I believe you." She could tell he was placating her, but she couldn't bring herself to care as he pulled a chair to the side of her bed and took her hand. He was still looking at her with a concerned gaze, but she didn't anticipate that going away for at least two weeks, so she worked to get used to it. A few moments pass before they speak again.

"Is it going to make you feel any better if I continue to insist I'm not dying?"

"No, not really." The corner of his mouth twitched upward, but he immediately resumed his stoic scowl.

"Okay, then continue staring at me as if I could vanish at any moment." She was mocking him, but it was much better than her not speaking to him at all, so he smiled and gently rubbed his thumb across her hand.

"I plan to." She smiled shyly and closed her eyes, taking in the moment. Eventually, she drifted off to sleep.

—

When she woke up, Hotch was still sitting in the chair beside her bed, their hands clasped. The only difference was, he was hunched over asleep with his head resting on the bed beside her. She smiled slightly as she took in the sight. He appeared to be exhausted. She wondered how long she had been there, but it was dark outside, so she knew it had to have been for a while. She looked around for Lia, but she didn't see her. Emily hoped she had gone home to get a good night's sleep. She didn't need to try to sleep on a cot in the hospital room. Still, she felt a twinge of disappointment that she wasn't there. Then she glanced back at the man leaning on her bed and all the disappointment dissipated. She started absently stroking his hand with her thumb as she thought about the past few weeks.

Somehow, this man had worked his way back into her life. She was beginning to trust him again, no matter how hard she tried not to. He was a good father, and she was beginning to believe he wouldn't let either of them down. He quit his job for them for God's sake. She didn't let herself think about whether or not she was in love with him, but deep down, she knew the truth. She would never dream of acting on it. Almost two decades prior, she had a set of reasons that they couldn't be together. While many of those reasons were no longer applicable, they had added some new ones. One was about 5' 5 with hazel eyes and long, ebony hair. She wasn't confident they could make it work, and she wasn't confident they could co-parent if a relationship didn't work out. Plus, he had moved on. It had been over 16 years since they confessed their feelings for the other person. That's a long time. But, they had always had a special connection. They couldn't ignore it forever.

"How are your ears? And, be honest. There's no point in lying to a fellow profiler. I'll know." She had volunteered to drive back from the latest case with him because he wouldn't do it any other way. Morgan made too much of a mess in the SUV, Reid talked too much, J.J. was uncomfortable the whole time, and Rossi insisted on driving. Driving cross-country with Prentiss was almost, as much as he hated to admit it, nice. But, she was extremely concerned for his well-being for whatever reason.

"I could lie. I'm trained to keep my microexpressions in check. You'd never know." He was smug, but he knew what he was doing.

"You're avoiding the question. And, besides, you have a tell." He succeeded in getting her to focus on another line of conversation, but she didn't care because she liked fake arguing with him,

"No, I don't." He was a highly skilled profiler. He did not have a tell. If he did, he was convinced Prentiss would be able to detect it, but he was adamant that it didn't exist.

"Um, you absolutely do. I'm just not going to tell you what it is." Her petulance brought a slight smile to both of their faces.

"You're bluffing."

"Not true, and you'd never be able to tell if I were. I have an excellent poker face." She said the last part with a jokingly smug tone. They were both having fun with this conversation.

"No, you have a tell."

"I do not. I beat Reid at poker."

"That's because he was overconfident that he counted the cards correctly. Now, I'm tired of this argument." He wasn't really, and the grin on his face revealed that, but she decided to play along.

"We aren't arguing. We're discussing."

"Same thing, Prentiss."

"Whatever you say, Bossman. Now, how are your ears?"

"At this exact moment or five minutes ago before you started talking incessantly?"

"Haha. Let's go with five minutes ago." She was always pleasantly surprised at his wit. Their banter-filled conversations always took place out of earshot of the rest of the team, but they both enjoyed them a lot. Granted, both of them had complex feelings for the other that neither would address.

"Sore, but manageable. I'm capable of driving for at least another thirty minutes. After that, you should take over for a little while." He didn't want a fluid imbalance to cause them to crash, but he felt fine for the time being.

"Or I could take over now." She knew what he was getting at, so she decided to bring the conversation back to a lighter place.

"No, Rossi. You can't." He was teasing, and she feigned shock with a gasp.

"I am not as bad as Rossi. I'm offended." They made eye contact with equally bright grins on their faces before turning back to the road in comfortable silence.

She was shocked out of her pensive state by movement on the side of the bed. Hotch woke up and let go of her hand, which caused her to try to hide her disappointment at the loss of contact. "Hey, sleep well?"

"Yeah, I wasn't out for long though. Lia came in about an hour ago to check on you, but I told her to go home and get some rest in her own bed. I hope that's okay?" She thought it was comical that he was questioning his parenting decision.

"Of course. I would've said the same thing." He let out a breath of relief, and they both smiled at one another.

"Okay, good. How are you feeling?" His tone immediately changed to one of concern.

"I'm fine, Hotch. I'll let you know if that changes." She was beginning to get annoyed, but she still smiled at his concern. His heart was in the right place.

"I'm inclined to not believe you on that front." He was just teasing, but there was a small amount of truth to the statement. She wouldn't tell him if she wasn't okay because she wouldn't want to worry him. They both knew he would do the same if the roles were reversed.

"That's fair, but I promise I'm fine." She really needed him to believe her.

"Okay." He was skeptical, and the concerned expression didn't leave his face.

"What?"

"What do you mean 'what?'" Now, he just looked confused.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" She was amused, but also genuinely curious.

"Like what?" The confusion was worsening with every word she spoke.

"Like I'm not really here. Like you're imagining me." Damn. She got him.

"Emily, I… I don't know." He started to look at everything other than her. He couldn't focus on just one thing, and he sat up in his chair.

"Yes, you do. Now, spill. You can't lie to me. You have a tell, remember?" She smirked as his eyes lit up in recognition of the memory. It meant a lot that he remembered a conversation so small.

"Ah, yes. The nonexistent tell."

"It's not— Stop trying to distract me. Answer the question, Hotchner." He chuckled, but then took a breath and quickly sobered.

"You could've died, Em. You could've died, and then you wouldn't be here anymore, and I wouldn't have you in my life. Again. That's a big deal." He spoke slowly because hearing the words out loud made all of his fears much more real.

"Hotch…" Her heart sank as she realized how scared he was of losing her, but she was also hopeful that they may have a future together one day.

"No, I don't need you to tell me that you're fine again, I know that. But, what if you weren't? What if, next time, you aren't? What if I never… If we… I don't know." She knew what he was getting at with his incomplete sentences, but the dejected look on his face kept her from pressing him into a confession.

"Aaron. I'm right here, okay? I'm not going anywhere." She grabbed his hand and internally smiled as he squeezed hers.

"Yeah, not today, not tomorrow, maybe not even the next day, but, God, Em, we've wasted so much damn time. I've wasted so much time. And, now, we're back in each other's lives, and we're just trying to get back into a rhythm of communication, and you're in the hospital. That's terrifying." He couldn't make eye contact with her, so he directed his focus to their connected hands. That connection was enough for both of them for the time being. But, they both longed for a promise of more eventually.

"You're right." At this, Aaron's eyes lifted to hers in shock. He expected her to pull her hand back or freak out, not agree.

"I am?"

"Yeah, you're right." They didn't really feel the need to say much of anything else. As they sat there with each other, they felt like everything might be okay. That was beginning to be a common theme. When they were together, they felt safe from the cruel outside world. They felt like something was shifting as they sat there, hand in hand. There was an unspoken agreement that they could potentially move toward something more than co-parents when they were both comfortable and ready. They had never really needed words. They usually failed them. Actions and unspoken agreements were more their styles, and they only used words when absolutely necessary. Everything else just fell into place. They both fell asleep that way again that night, only to be woken up by a smirking Lia the next day.