Author's Note: Telling the team. FINALLY!
Also, please note, you might want to refresh your memory on the Derek/Reid interactions in the "Big Mama" chapter, otherwise you might miss one of the jokes here. Your choice, no pressure :)
Opening with the guys out to lunch.
Thursday Afternoon
This Is How The Heart Breaks
"Well," Reid bit his lip as he slumped back against the red diner booth, "personally, I think Emily's pregnant."
Rossi tipped his head appreciatively.
"Hmm, not bad, Spencer," then he wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin, "now what's your data to back up this conclusion?"
At present the two of them, plus Derek, were just finishing up lunch at a new diner that had opened up down the street from the Academy. They didn't usually all get together mid-day, but at the conclusion of that morning's briefing, Hotch had given Emily a look, and then she'd leaned forward, cleared her throat, and invited them all over to her place that night to quote, "discuss a personal matter of general importance to the team."
That was it.
Nobody had any idea what the "personal matter" was. And with a mystery like that to solve . . . the one thing that people like them hated to be, was the last one to figure out a case . . . he and Morgan had decided to get together for lunch to "work out the details."
Reid had tagged along.
And his conclusion about the reason for the get together wasn't exactly what Dave himself had come to. He thought that maybe she was taking a short leave of absence to address some lingering physical effects from her fall last month . . . there had been a lot of doctors' visits . . . but Spencer's theory was a good one too. And Dave was kind of curious to see what Reid might have observed that he had not.
After all, the kid did spend most of his day sitting directly across from the possible 'mother to be.'
"Well," Reid continued thoughtfully while chewing on the corner of a French fry, "she's been looking really tired the past month or so, but worse lately. And I noticed that she's had to run to the bathroom pretty suddenly more than a few times. Just like JJ did when she was pregnant. Plus, of course, the doctor's visits. I mean, I know she had that bad fall, but she didn't break anything. And the stitches she wants us to think she has to keep getting checked," he rolled his eyes, "they were taken out a WEEK and a half ago!"
Although Reid knew he'd been a little late to the game in realizing that JJ was pregnant, now that he was "personally" acquainted with which symptoms to watch for, he didn't expect to get fooled again on that front!
And seeing Dave about to say something back, he quickly put his finger up as he thought of something else.
"Oh, and also, Hotch has been getting her lunch like every day now. And not just lunch, but really healthy lunches at that."
At Derek's surprised look, Reid shot him one back.
"Yes, Morgan," he huffed, "I noticed. I also profile people's behavior for a living, you know. "And," his voice began to rise as he warmed to this other topic, "as long as we're on the topic of 'noticing things,' I have noticed your not so subtle hints about wanting me to pay you back that twenty bucks. And to that I say," he continued on while waving his nub of a French fry in Morgan's face, "you'll get your twenty bucks back after you pay me back the THIRTY you owe me for the gas we got on the Denver case! You took the receipt, so you put in for the reimbursement, and then I," he popped the fry nub into his mouth, "got screwed!"
After staring back at Reid for a moment . . . he'd wanted to knock that French fry right out of his fingers . . . with a grunt and a roll of his eyes, Morgan whipped out his wallet. A second later he slapped down an Andrew Jackson and then an Alexander Hamilton on the shiny white table top.
"Here!" He shoved them over.
"Thank you, Derek," Reid accepted his money with a smile, and then he slid the twenty dollar bill back across the table with the tip of his index finger.
"And now there YOU go."
Even though he wanted to say something else . . . like why the HELL didn't you say something two weeks ago so I wouldn't have looked like a complete DICKHEAD riding your ass(!) . . . Morgan knew that at this point it was better to just keep his damn mouth shut.
The accounts were settled . . . he shook his head . . . it was done.
After watching the exchange between the two younger men, Rossi had to put his hand up to cover his smile. And then he waited until they'd finished jamming their respective bills into their respective wallets before he cleared his throat to continue the conversation.
"Okay," he coughed, "back to the topic at hand. Those were some sound inferences there Reid. But provided Emily is pregnant, if seems that you're implying that Hotch would be the father, yes?"
Rossi had made his own suppositions about the evolution in their relationship . . . i.e. that they'd FINALLY started sleeping together sometime back . . . but he was still curious to hear somebody else's take on the situation. And although ordinarily he restricted his 'gossiping' (Emily's word) to just discussions with Emily or Aaron themselves, he felt in this instance he'd make an exception.
Independent empirical research and all.
"Um," Reid took a quick sip of Coke before elaborating, "well, that's kind of a given. Their relationship clearly has been evolving over this past year. And again, he's bringing her lunch and taking her to ALL of those doctor's appointments even though before, he hardly ever left the office for any personal business. Plus," he nodded sagely, "I've caught them coming in together eight point five times over the last five weeks."
Seeing the strange looks he was getting, and then realizing it was the "point five" which was probably causing the confusion, Reid hurriedly clarified his last statement.
"The half point was a week from last Thursday when I saw them on the elevator together coming up from the parking garage. It was pretty early, and they were on the same car, but they weren't standing together. Emily was actually talking to some woman I didn't know, so I can't be positive that one wasn't a coincidence."
Huh, Derek thought with a wrinkle of his brow, and he'd caught them coming in together four times. Plus Garcia's six. Derek was impressed.
Damn Hotch!
Reid kept running down his list.
"Plus their matching outfits! God, they look like one of those brother sister couples."
Again, noting the peculiar stares he was receiving from his lunch companions, he added a qualifier to his prior statement.
"I didn't know that was a real thing either. Not until last month. That's when Garcia left one of her fashion magazines on the break table and I was flipping through it while I was eating my sandwich. Anyway, they fit the definition to a tee. According to the article anyway," Reid shrugged while polishing off his last fry. "And last point, Emily certainly isn't promiscuous, so if she is pregnant, there is no doubt that Hotch would be the father of her baby."
Though he had no proof of the theoretical pregnancy, Reid was really hoping that was Emily's news. From personal experience, he knew that she was a very kind and patient person. Especially with him even after he'd made some terrible social guffaws.
She'd make an excellent mom.
And having spent last Halloween with Hotch and his son, Spencer already knew that Hotch was a good father. Very attentive and even tempered. So together, Reid was positive that they would make very fine parents. Not to mention the benefits to society if the two of them chose to combine their genetic material.
Their child could very well have an IQ higher than his own!
"Well summarized, Dr. Reid," Rossi gave an impressed nod as he perused the check that the waitress had just dropped on the table, "and given these conclusions," he looked up, "what action would you take now?"
Reid's eyes popped as he looked over at Dave in horror.
"ACTION?! Are you crazy?! Do you know what Hotch would DO to me if I asked him if he'd gotten Emily PREGNANT?! The man takes me target shooting!" Reid shuddered, "not to mention Emily herself! I haven't completely ruled out having my own children own day. And I'd like for everything to still be in working order if I do decide to procreate."
Rossi's mouth began to quiver, and a quick side eye showed Morgan also trying to hide his smile at Reid's outburst.
The kid had painted a picture.
"Well," Rossi huffed while pulling out his wallet to cover the check, "though I had not envisioned quite such colorful consequences to that disclosure as you had, Spencer, I have also been monitoring their behavior this past month." Rossi gave him a pointed look, "you forgot to mention their unexpected disappearance yesterday. And I have to agree that your theory, as laid out, is the most sound." Then his brow wrinkled.
"Though it's curious, if that is what Emily wants to tell us, that it would have been her announcement alone."
It wasn't like Hotch . . . alpha that he was . . . to let anyone else speak on his behalf if the matter was of 'joint' concern. And obviously a 'theoretical baby' would be as much his concern as Emily's.
Rossi was interrupted in his musings on that point by Derek's sigh.
"Well, either way," he shrugged, "I guess we'll find out tonight."
The last few weeks he'd been leaning towards Em maybe having somehow picked up mono or something . . . the girl looked tired ALL the time . . . given Reid's argument, and the realization that if Emily had caught mono, it was likely Hotch would have as well, and he'd seemed fine . . . Derek was now thinking the kid was probably right about it being a baby.
And that would DEFINITELY be a development they'd want to discuss outside the office.
As the three men stood up, a stray point in Reid's last comment popped back into Derek's brain. His lips twitched. And as they started walking towards the door, he slipped his arm around Reid's slim shoulders.
"So you're looking to make some little baby Einsteins, huh?" He chuckled.
"Now we're definitely going to have to find you a date!"
/*/*/*/
Thursday Night
Emily fluttered nervously around her living room, fluffing the pillows on the couch and straightening the snack plates she'd set out on the coffee table. She had no idea what the 'party etiquette' was in a situation like this . . . the 'how to break news of your illness to friends and family' articles hadn't covered "snacks" . . . but it just seemed like she should put something out.
Something besides alcohol.
Hotch was out picking that up.
Given that they were basically a dry household now, their remaining stock had been pretty light. So a couple bottles of wine . . . a red and a white . . . and one bottle of Dave's favorite scotch (to cover Dave and Morgan) were on his list.
Hopefully that would be enough.
It's not like they wanted anybody to get wasted. . . for one thing then they'd have overnight guests and she had clinic in the morning . . . but Emily knew from experience that she definitely could have used a good stiff drink after she got her diagnoses. And Hotch said that he could have used one too. But unfortunately they'd both been in the hospital at the time. And for some reason the medical community frowned upon passing out shots with their diagnoses.
Pity.
But regardless, Emily felt good that offering alcohol up front was the way to go here. Hotch had agreed. And they figured if it looked like anybody in the group was going to be polishing off the bottles, they'd just order a couple of pizzas and make some coffee. That would give one . . . or all . . . of them a few hours to sober up. So THAT point, had at least been ironed out.
The mechanics of the evening.
All the rest of it . . . she paused to rub her stomach nervously . . . that was what was making her anxious. Their plan, such as it was, was to get everybody (JJ included) into the apartment, let them settle in with a drink and a little cheese/cracker/chip plate, and then she'd stand up and, and . . . she winced.
Crap.
That was the point where her brain always short circuited on her. The actual 'opening of her mouth and saying the words' point.
It wasn't that she didn't know what she needed to say . . . "I have cancer," the same three shitty little words that tens of millions of people had had to say before her . . . it was how to say it. And what their response was going to be, that was the big black hole.
And she just didn't know how she was going to fill it.
/*/*/*/
An hour later, Emily was standing in front of her friends and colleagues, sucking on her tongue, trying to work up some saliva.
Her mouth had gone dry.
And given that was not specifically one of the side effects from her various medications, she was figuring that was totally a physiological response to her anxiety.
The moment she'd walked to the front of the living room, her mouth had become the Sahara.
And after a second of trying to work up a little moisture . . . enough to talk without sounding like she was a frog croaking . . . she shot a look over to Hotch standing a few feet away.
She mimed a drinking motion and he quickly picked up her Diet Coke from the window sill where she'd placed it a few minutes before. After he'd handed it over, she took a sip . . . swallowed, trying to knock the lump out of the way in the process . . . and then took another one.
Once she could swallow normally again, she passed it back to him with a little smile.
"Thank you, Aaron."
His eyes crinkled as he squeezed her arm, then he stepped back over to the side. His presence up front was for moral support . . . and she could see the others looking curiously at him . . . but they both knew that the news had to come from her.
It was her tumor.
And knowing that she just needed to get it done, she turned to face her little crowd of visitors again. Seven people. Six of whom she counted as her closest friends on the planet. They were all looking at her expectantly, the curiosity on their faces easy to read.
God how she hated doing this to them!
But . . . she took a breath . . . it had to be done tonight. And she decided then, that in this instance, with this crew, the ripping off the band aid approach would be best. They wouldn't appreciate equivocation.
It would simply send their naturally inquisitive brains running off to 'solve a mystery,' mode.
So she just blurted it out.
"I have cancer. Specifically, a malignant stage one brain tumor."
There was a lengthy silence after her announcement . . . from her position Emily could see the shock on their faces, it was making her feel sick . . . and then Garcia suddenly choked out.
"Cancer?! We all thought you were PREGNANT! I brought you baby booties!" The tears started running down her face, "they're in my bag!"
And after that, she bent over . . . glass of white wine still clutched in her hand . . . gulping back sobs.
Derek was sitting next to her on the couch, and he distractedly tried to comfort her by running his hand along her back, but he too looked terrible. Devastated really.
His eyes had started watering, and Emily could see that they'd locked onto some point on the far wall of the room.
And at that moment Emily felt a creeping sense of horror washing over her. The horror that neither she nor Aaron had anticipated how the team might have COMPLETELY misconstrued the events of the last month! And then she heard a muttered curse from directly at her side.
"Shit."
She blindly reached a hand out to Hotch.
Their fingers locked together.
And that's when Emily noticed that JJ had also started to cry, and that both Reid and Rossi looked pale and shell shocked. Jordan was the only one who still looked relatively, 'put together.' Her initial shock had also been evident, but the emotional breakdown wasn't there. Nor would Emily have expected it.
They weren't friends.
Really, mostly, she just looked exceedingly uncomfortable. It was understandable. And Emily and Hotch had discussed whether or not it was appropriate to tell her at the same time as the others. But she was part of the team too . . . for the moment at least . . . and she had as much right to know about the situation as the others did. Clearly Emily's condition was going to have a dramatic effect on the team dynamic, and regardless of their lack of personal 'affection' for the woman, there was still no reason to amplify Jordan's feeling of separation by excluding her from the group discussion. It wouldn't help anyone.
Although it was clear that at that moment, she very much wished to be anywhere but there.
Emily could relate.
She felt like she was going to throw up.
As Hotch grasped onto Emily's hand, he was trying to ruthlessly shove aside the variables on how this could have possibly gone ANY worse. It really couldn't have!
They'd thought she was pregnant!
How the FUCK had he missed that one!?
Even as 'I have cancer' announcements went, this was a COMPLETE disaster! And he knew that he needed to find some way fix it before they had to break the seal on Emily's still untouched bottle of Ativan.
"SHE'S NOT DYING!" He blurted out, a statement immediately echoed by Emily.
"RIGHT! GUYS, I'M NOT DYING!"
They ended up tripping over each other, but at least the point was made. Or at least they were trying to make it. And he shot her a worried glance . . . she looked terrible . . . as he pulled her a bit closer to his side.
Then he said fuck it, and just dropped her fingers to slip his arm around her waist and give her a squeeze. That was the other announcement anyway. That they were now a couple.
Might as well let them get used to that one too.
And as Emily leaned slightly against his side, Hotch looked back over to their friends. He could see the new words trying to sink in, the faint confusion mixing with the existing shock and sadness on their faces. JJ, looking heartbroken . . . a state of being that made Hotch's own heart hurt . . . was the first one to speak. As she looked up at them, he could see there were mascara streaks running down her face.
"Really," she sniffled, "you're not dying? You promise?"
Even though it was Emily she was speaking to, Hotch was the one that responded.
Those black streaks were killing him.
So his arm slipped off of Emily's waist as he crossed the few feet to where JJ was sitting in the end chair. Then he crouched down and squeezed her hand.
"She'll be okay," he whispered with a faint crinkling of his eyes, "I promise."
It wasn't an empty promise . . . it was one that he believed with all of his heart, and the stat backed him up . . . but he would have said the same words regardless of Emily's prognosis.
Because JJ was his Girl Friday.
He loved all of his team . . . Emily most of all of course . . . but he'd had a soft spot for Jennifer Jareau since the morning of her first briefing when she'd dumped an entire cup of coffee in his lap. She'd turned crimson the moment she'd realized that she was about to start rubbing napkins on her new chief's crotch.
It was a moment of public klutziness worthy of his Emily's best.
And after thirteen years in the bureau it was still one of the few times that Hotch could recall having to bite his cheek to keep from laughing aloud in the office. And flashing on that moment again as he looked up at her tears, he did something that he would ordinarily never do.
He sat down on the corner of the chair, and slipped his arm around her shoulders. As JJ leaned slightly into his side, his gaze shifted back to Emily's . . . she gave them both a watery smile.
"Like Hotch said, I'm going to be fine. And actually," she tipped her head, "although I'm not pregnant, and I'm very sorry for that misunderstanding, Hotch and I are involved now. That was the other news," her gaze briefly shifted around her downstairs, taking in the subtle additions to her world, "in case you hadn't noticed his things, he's moved in. It's been about six weeks."
Hotch cleared his throat before clarifying, "seven. Seven weeks."
One more week wasn't generally a huge distinction in time, but right now it was. At least to them.
Because every week counted.
"Right," Emily echoed with a smile as their gazes locked, "seven weeks."
When Emily's attention shifted back to the team, she saw that they were starting to come back from the thousand yard stare. Information was being processed. And with JJ and Garcia still quietly sniffling . . . the former still being comforted by Hotch, the latter being comforted by Derek, he continued to absentmindedly rub her back . . . they all turned their eyes to Emily once again.
"So," she took a breath, "like I was saying," she continued with what she hoped was a comforting smile, even if her eyes were still a bit moist, "I do have cancer, but the tumor's small, and it's very treatable. Since I was diagnosed it hasn't spread any further, and it hasn't grown too much. But that's mostly more a result of the radiation treatments that I've been having to shrink it down. And the radiation, in case you're wondering, I started that three weeks ago. This whole first cycle lasts for eight weeks, three days a week and then I'll be re-tested. And at this point," she rubbed her hands together, "fortunately, fingers crossed, it doesn't appear that I'll need chemo. But," she slowly exhaled, "the option is still on the table until the next assessment."
Emily could see that the others were still obviously "distraught," but they also were clearly relieved at hearing the rest of her news. Brows wrinkling, heads nodding . . . mouths subtly pursing.
Being a profiler did help to read the room.
And though they remained quiet, Emily knew that they needed time to digest what she'd said, so she kept her mouth shut too. She wanted to let them think.
To process.
And then Dave broke the silence.
"How do you feel, honey?" He asked as he leaned forward, "you've looked tired lately but," he smiled sadly, "as Garcia said, most of us thought you were pregnant."
Feeling another batch of tears stinging her eyes at that horrible misunderstanding . . . Garcia brought booties, Christ . . . Emily gave him a sad smile. Because thinking back now on the past few weeks . . . in retrospect . . . she could see how a team of behavioralists might have misinterpreted her exhaustion, Hotch's uncharacteristic attentiveness, and the inordinate amount of time they'd been spending together, as meaning a "blessed event" was on the horizon.
'Yeah, and it's a pity you didn't think of that an hour ago, Emily,' she thought with disgust. But she quickly pushed that emotion aside. What's done was done.
So outwardly she just nodded back to Dave.
"I feel good. I mean," she shrugged, "mostly. But when the headaches hit they are bad. Plus," she huffed humorlessly, "there's the nausea and the dizzy spells," she jiggled her head, "those suck. But I have pills for the headaches and the nausea, which," she paused for a millisecond, "have been keeping those symptoms mostly under control."
Hearing Hotch clear his throat right before he shot her a look, Emily felt a little dig of shame. He'd caught the pause.
And he was right to call her out on it.
The point of this get together was to be honest, because her illness was very much going to affect them too. And painting a 'rosy picture' of her condition, wasn't going to help them deal if she suddenly passed out at her desk, or doubled over in agony.
If they weren't prepared, it was just going to make it all the worse.
So she clarified her last point.
"Um," she bit her lip, "Hotch was just reminding me that I should probably elaborate a bit on my symptoms. Sometimes my nausea, even with the medication, is very severe. Like imagine the worst stomach virus you've ever had, and multiple it by ten. And with that, I have to kind of roll with the punches. And as to the headaches, although the pills there do help to at least get them under control after one hits, when it hits," she gave them a pained smile, hating the new fear that she could see on their faces, "it's bad. It can be very bad, and it can be very sudden." She clasped her hands together, "but please don't be scared if something happens in the office. I mean," she jiggled her head, "I know it would be upsetting, but Hotch and I have been learning to live with this, and we uh," her gaze shifted to give him a wistful smile, "we have our routines now to handle things. So, bottom line," she coughed, "just go get him."
At that point, Emily's throat was once more starting to get dry. But it was more just all the talking that was doing it. So as she walked over to get drink again, she added the last bit.
The most important bit.
"So cutting to the chase, I'll probably be switching to a flex schedule starting next week. Part time, half days, whatever, we'll see how it goes. The effects of the radiation are cumulative, and that's why I've been looking more and more tired lately. And I've been told to expect that in a few weeks I'll be . . ." she paused before letting out a sigh, "well, I won't be able to work anymore. And when it reaches that point, I'll have to take a full leave."
She finished with a small smile of reassurance.
"I know this all really sucks guys, but I promise I'll get better." She gave them a watery smile as her voice started to get thick, "we just have to get through this crappy bit first." So," she sniffed and cleared her throat, "any other questions? Comments?"
And then Reid squeaked out nervously.
"You know statistically in Western Europe they found an increase in divorces after a diagnosis of reproductive canc . . ."
The rest of his words were cut off by Garcia elbowing him sharply in the side.
"Spencer," she hissed, "shhh!"
Realizing then what he'd said . . . and how horribly inappropriate it was . . . his eyes popped open wide. His hand came up to slap over his mouth.
"Oh Emily," he sputtered, "oh, jeez I'm sorry. That was . . . I didn't mean to," he shook his head, "I'm so sorry. I'm just nervous."
Good one Spencer! Big dope!
But it was his damn coping mechanism! Statistics calmed his brain . . . it was just REALLY horrible that was the first cancer statistic to pop into his head!
As Emily remembered back to her thoughts on the beach about Reid's 'statistical relationship' reaction . . . and with that knowledge that she'd at least walked into this thing pegging ONE person correctly . . . she gave him a beatific smile.
"Spencer, if Hotch wasn't here right now, I'd be planting a big wet one on you."
Seeing the perplexed looks from the rest of the team . . . as Spencer's eyes BUGGED out of his face . . . Hotch shook his head as stood up.
"Thank you so much for your restraint, Prentiss," he deadpanned, while walking back over to take her hand again. Then he rolled his eyes good naturedly as she smiled and kissed his cheek.
"I try, sir."
And seeing then that with her unexpected levity, the mood had lightened considerably . . . he could see the others huffing slightly as they shifted in their seats . . . Hotch finished their talk by addressing the more practical matters facing them as a group.
"So you can all see now that this was part of the reason why we've been off rotation, but it really wasn't the primary one to start, we were severely backed up on consults. But now that we're caught up, we need to get back in the field again."
At the affirmative nods around the room, Hotch took a breath.
"I haven't spoken to Strauss about this yet," he continued slowly, his gaze lingering briefly on Jordan, as she was still a fairly unknown quantity, "but I've decided to remove myself from the travel list for the time being. Emily obviously will need to work out of Quantico while she undergoes her treatments, and then she'll be taking her leave. And I'm not . . ." he cleared his throat, "well, I won't be leaving her. Not until she's well."
Though he was a bit uncomfortable having to so 'publicly' express his commitment . . . even if these were his friends, he was still a very private man who considered their relationship to be a very private matter . . . he also knew that they needed to understand where he was coming from. That from here on out, Emily was going to come first, and last.
And every slot in between.
And feeling her squeeze his hand in support for his public declaration . . . it was probably a bit of a surprise to her that he was so open . . . he took a breath.
Then he finished his thought.
"Anyway, I know that for a little while this will leave you down two agents on the road. But JJ is due back soon . . ."
When Hotch paused and his gaze shifted, JJ nodded and wiped her eye. So he continued.
"And you know that she has extensive field experience assisting with the interviews and dealing with the living victims and the families. So once she's back, I'll keep Jordan on media assignments for a few months beyond the initial rotation. And with the two of them, that should help to fill out the ranks a little. Emily and I will still be available for phone and video consultation on all cases." He tipped his head, "her condition notwithstanding of course." Then he paused, "I know it's not an ideal solution, but," he sighed, "of course none of this is."
Morgan, who had been quiet up to that point, leaned forward. His eyes were slightly red.
"But Hotch, man, what if Strauss won't go for it? I mean, you know," he rubbed his hands together, "we're all here one hundred percent for whatever needs to be done to make this work for Emily, and . . ." he tipped his head, "you. But this is a major breach of procedure. And," he tipped his head, "no disrespect intended, but Strauss isn't really a fan of either of yours."
Hotch's jaw clenched and he was just about to respond when Dave cut in. His voice was soft.
"Don't worry about Strauss," his eyes shot up to Hotch's, "I'll take care of her."
Dave had a marker that he'd been carrying on that woman. A marker that he'd been carrying for seventeen years.
It was time to cash it in.
The two men stared at each other for a moment before Hotch tipped his head.
"Thank you," he whispered back.
Dave nodded, and for a moment there was a pregnant pause . . . Jordan broke it by clearing her throat.
"I, uh," she swallowed as she reached down for her bag by her feet, "I'm sorry but I have to be going. I need to meet somebody at eight."
Though she was genuinely sorry that Emily was sick . . . they weren't friends, but of course she would never wish such a terrible thing on anyone . . . and she was planning on doing what she could to help the team with the plan that Hotch had laid out, Jordan knew that she didn't belong there. This was most definitely a family moment. And she knew that as familial relations went in this group . . . she was really more of a distant cousin.
Twice removed.
So after extending her sympathies to Emily . . . and assuring her that she could let herself out . . . she grabbed her coat, hurried down the hall and out the door.
After the front door clicked behind Jordan, Emily looked back around the room.
"So," she gave them a sad smile, "does anybody want another drink?"
/*/*/*/
Nobody did want another drink. Nobody wanted to stay.
Thank God.
And although Emily felt a little guilty in her reaction when they started shaking their heads and murmuring that they had to go, she couldn't help it. Two days of stress, and twenty plus minutes of actually having to talk about her illness in excruciating detail, had worn her out.
She just wanted to take a bath, go to bed, and snuggle up with Hotch.
Maybe they could watch a movie.
But until she got to her nice warm bed, she had to get through the goodbyes. It was a slow trickle of teary emotional hugs for her, and supportive handshakes for Hotch . . . though JJ gave him a hug too. And they both got a "congratulations" from everyone on them moving in together. And that made Emily very happy. That they were all so supportive of a relationship which meant the world to her.
And she loved them for that.
But all in all, the goodbyes, heartfelt and sweet that they were . . . Dave even whispered to her that she had a blank check from him for anything that her insurance didn't cover . . . were slowly sapping the remainder of her strength. She was so used to tucking her emotions away, they all were, and tonight they were all wearing them on their sleeves.
It was hard.
Though she did perk up when she got to JJ, because after she gave her hug, she smiled and asked Emily if she and Hotch would like to finally set a date for that dinner they'd been planning.
"Absafreakinglutely," was Emily's response.
They both laughed. And then they set it for as close a date as possible . . . Saturday night. Even though the location was going to be Emily and Hotch's apartment, JJ insisted they'd cook the meal. She said Will had gotten a smoker for Christmas, and he loved to make his granddaddy's ribs. So they'd bring barbecue and potato salad. Emily smiled, and said fine, her household would provide the dessert.
Then she pulled JJ into a tight hug.
"I love you," she whispered. And she felt Jayj's chest hitch once just before she turned her head and kissed her cheek.
"I love you too, Em," JJ whispered back, "lots." Then she pulled away slightly to catch her eyes.
There was a very serious look on her pretty face.
"Anything you need," her voice caught, and she cleared the lump, "anything, any time of day, you call me. Okay? You guys don't have to do this by yourselves," a tear slipped down her cheek, "we'll help."
Feeling her own tears start to well up, Emily just nodded back.
"Mmm," she murmured, too afraid to speak.
She didn't trust her voice.
And then JJ pulled her into one last hug before she walked over to get her coat from Hotch. He helped her slip it on then he patted her back and whispered something in her ear. She nodded and turned to give him another hug. As he slipped his arm around her back, he tipped his head down and again whispered something that only she could hear.
That time she laughed.
And when she leaned back, Emily could see she was giving Hotch a watery smile. He shot her a wink in return. Then Dave put his hand on the back of her neck . . . and with a final wave from him . . . he walked the two of them out.
Garcia and Spencer had left a moment before. Penelope had been clutching Reid's arm.
They were going to go get a drink.
So then it was just Derek left in the apartment. Hotch looked back and forth between the two of them before he jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
"I need to run upstairs for something."
Really, he just wanted to give the two of them a few minutes of privacy to talk. Hotch knew that Derek was the first friend that she'd made on the team . . . in part because he was the first person that Hotch had regularly partnered her up with . . . and they were still very close. It had been hard for her, emotionally, to try and hide her symptoms from him these last few weeks. Particularly given how upset Morgan was the first day after the fall when he'd seen her stitches.
He'd been hovering over her at work.
And as Hotch went up the stairs, he could see the two of them staring at each other.
He quickly looked away.
Morgan waited until he heard Hotch's footsteps move off the staircase, and onto the landing, before he walked over and picked up Emily's hands. His eyes were watering.
"Are you guys happy?"
She started to cry . . . leave it to Morgan to be the one to break her.
"Yes," sniffled, "we're very happy."
"Good," he nodded slowly, his voice faint, "that's good. I want that for you. Because you deserve somebody who will be nice to you, and treat you well." He gave her a sad smile, "and I know that Hotch is probably the one man on the planet, who is worthy of my partner."
When Emily choked down a sob, Morgan blinked and sucked in a breath.
"I just want the best for you, Em. And," his voice started to catch, "I want you to be well. And I'm sure mom's all over this, but if he has to go out, or just if anything comes up and you guys need help, a ride to an appointment or a run to the store, just ask. And I'll be there."
Another tear ran down Emily's face as she leaned up to put her arms around Derek's neck.
"Thank you," she whispered in his ear, "and you know you're always my go to guy . . ." Then she squeezed him tight and continued in the same breath, "provided of course," she sniffled, "that I'm fully clothed and have strapped on both my pistol and my chastity belt that day."
She was hoping to get a laugh out of him . . . she didn't want him to leave sad . . . and that she did. A full bodied chuckle as he squeezed her tight.
"I love you girl."
Then he leaned back to flash her a slightly subdued version of his usual Colgate grin. There was a tinge of sadness to it. And that sadness was one thing that Emily knew that she couldn't joke away.
Then he kissed her forehead and grabbed his leather jacket from the back of the couch.
Emily followed him down the front hall. And when they got to the door, he turned back with a soft smile and a little squeeze of her fingers.
"Night, Em," then he called out a little louder. "Good night, Hotch!"
Hotch . . . who had been hovering around their bedroom doorway, far enough away that he couldn't listen to normal conversation . . . started moving back towards the stairs.
"Good night, Derek," he yelled, as he started down the steps to the living room.
There hadn't been much he could do upstairs besides start the tub for Emily. A task which needed to be done, but had taken all of fifteen seconds to complete.
For the remaining two and a half minutes, he'd been leaning against the wall, tapping his fingertips anxiously against his thigh.
After she'd placed a kiss on Derek's cheek, Emily gave him a little smile and a wave.
Then she closed the door.
For a second she stood there, staring into it. Then she blinked away the fresh tears and reached up to click the deadbolt.
Hearing Hotch's footsteps coming into the living room, she turned around, slumped back . . . and slid down the steel door to the mat below.
The two of them made eye contact as he stopped in the middle of the hall to look down at her. She could see him eyeing her in that way that only he could.
With enough intensity to burn a hole through your skin.
Hotch stared down, taking in the chalky pallor to Emily's skin and the lines of exhaustion on her face. The evening might have been short, but it had taken a lot out of her.
Too much.
But . . . he sucked in a breath . . . at least it was done.
"Well," he slowly exhaled, "that could have gone better."
Emily pursed her lips together.
"Yes," she nodded slowly, "yes it could have." Then she sighed. "At the very least I should have remembered to put some Kleenex out. I felt bad handing JJ and Garcia store brand paper towels to wipe their faces. Those things are like sandpaper. I hope they don't get a rash." She scrunched up her face.
"You know it's very poor hostessing to send your guests home with a dermatological condition."
Hotch's expression softened.
Though she was trying to deflect . . . to make a joke as she so often did as a means to cope . . . he could see the pain in her eyes. How terrible she felt about the misunderstanding.
The possible pregnancy.
Christ, if only that's what it had been. And someday, maybe next year, hopefully that would be their big news.
But not today.
So today he gave her a small smile as he closed the remaining distance between them. Then he leaned down to pull her off the floor.
"Come on Miss Manners," he took her hand, "bath time."
Then he tugged . . . and she came up to her feet and he pulled her into a hug. Her arms slipped around his waist and he tipped his head down to rest against hers. For almost a minute, they just stood there. And then he felt Emily take a deep breath.
"I think we should make a pie for Saturday. Pecan," she tipped her head back, "it'll go with the southern barbecue."
Hotch's eyes crinkled . . . and life went on.
It had to.
"We could do peach pie too, and get some corn on the cob," he tipped his head as his lips pursed, "and to do it all right, we really need to make some sweet tea."
Emily smiled.
"I like sweet tea."
"Yeah," Hotch pressed his lips to her temple as they turned to start walking down the hall, "yeah, I know you do."
A/N 2: Done! Hope it didn't disappoint!
Dave's marker on Strauss is officially Girl canon! This is the third story now where it's worked in. And I still don't think I've said what exactly she did that resulted in her owing him a golden ticket. I'll have to think of a good one.
Though I'm not a Jordan fan, I think I've said, in this story, she's not horrible. Generally a situation like this would bring out people's better qualities, so I'm letting her not be awful :) Otherwise, we'll have touch base chapters with the others to see how they're dealing (JJ will get the most 'screen time'), though the story will primarily continue to focus around HP/Jack and their home life.
Thanks everybody!