Way Down Chapter 3 – 'Scared to Death'.

February is finally among us. Better now than never to say Happy New Year to you all.

I have continued to be naff at providing new chapters here but not so much to the endless pages of notes… I will be better. Lately, I have been ill and haven't really managed to read or write but I'm better now so let's go!

I don't own the characters or criminal minds, and this is purely the work of a delusional Hotchniss shipper and proud TG lover.

I do try to keep things in line with the show with my own interpretation of the 'what we don't see'/'what ifs'.

Emily's love for music is my love; Hotch's love for sport is my love.

Rated M

Thank you for your kindness and support.

Every chapter going forward will be inspired by a song. Hotchniss is 100% Taylor Swift's 'I Can See you'.

Inspired by 'That Girl' by Glenn Frey

Hotch let his eyes shift from the mountains below the jet's window to the dark agent opposite him before he finally felt content enough to close them enterily. He leant back into the leather seat and breathed slowly through his nose allowing the weeks of stress to abate somewhat. No, he wasn't free from the pressure and stress of his job and ultimately his life but sharing this part of his personal life with a professional college did elevate the burden if only a small amount. The thrum of the jet's engine brought peace. Another monster was gone and they were finally heading home.

'Home' he scoffed internally.

He had yet to find a suitable place to live and it had been ten days since his wife had upped and let their home. Which meant it had been ten days since he'd last been inside his house and ten days since he laid out all his cards in front of a certain brunette agent that happened to be his subordinate. When he laid out all of his cards, it was with trepidation that she had begun to pick them up. He had fallen into the comfort of her embrace and sealed it with a night of passion. One in which he relived daily.

Paperwork had eaten away at any personal time the team had and now they were on their way home after a case in Portland. These cases were the worst as they spent almost half a day travelling to the local police station and then half a day travelling to their respective homes. He had yet to see more of Emily after their night together. In fact, they'd barely spoken more than a few words to each other. Apart from a few text messages here and there, along with the occasional subtle touch, the dark-haired pair couldn't catch a break but both knew this was what they were signing on for.

It didn't make it any less frustrating or any easier.

Hotch's suspicion had been correct. His now ex-wife was staying with her sister and he had been given an extended period of time to decide what he wanted to do with the life they had built together. He knew he couldn't go back. Was it sad, yes, but he could not and would not force his son to live a lie. Or his oldest friend or even himself.

They all deserved to be happy.

And now he was troubled as to why couldn't he answer Morgan when he innocently asked if he wanted Haley to come back.

It sucked looking for property on one's own. Every time something suitable came up it was snatched away or he'd forget that it wasn't a single bedroom he was looking for; Jack would need his own space.

He slowly exhaled again through his nose, only this time there was a warmth in the air. Steam. Coffee. No, it was tea - it was late.

Then, another type of warmth landed on his thigh. A hand. Her hand.

He opened one eye and found Morgan still asleep opposite him. When he looked down at the delicate hand on his leg and followed the length of the arm, he found Emily's bright eyes staring back at him. She tugged the corner of her lip between her teeth before sighing softly.

"Hi" she whispered.

He smiled his usual tight-lipped smile in her direction and opened his other eye.

"Hi" he replied.

"I thought you might like some tea". She pushed the mug of steaming liquid in his direction, wincing as the ceramic scrapped against the hard wooden surface. Emily lifted her head to survey the cabin and was relived to find everyone undisturbed by the noise.

"Thank you," Hotch said before blowing out a careful breath. "I told him…" he nodded in Morgan's direction. "About Haley."

"Oh."

"He asked me if I wanted her to come back," he continued as he sipped at the tea she had graced him with. He had to bite back a contented sigh at the welcome warmth it bought to him, one he didn't acknowledge he needed. He took another sip of the brew when apart of him felt a chill. Less than a minute later and a few more sips of the hot liquid, he realised Emily had removed her hand from his leg.

He closed his eyes and pressed down on his temper as it began to rise. Was he angry at Emily? No. But her pulling away at the mere mention of Haley bugged him. He knew this was beyond unreasonable given the lengthy and more than emotional conversation they shared only last week about Emily's concerns over starting a relationship. He scolded himself for even bringing this up to her. 'Are you a rookie, boy?' he heard his father spit.

"Okay," Emily said and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She held her hands together, linking her fingers, in order to refrain from picking her nails, when she saw out of the corner of her eye a much larger hand cover both of hers, squeezing carefully for only a second before the hand mimicked her earlier position and settled on her thigh.

A walking juxtaposition, she thought, his body radiated a heat like no other. He had been her furnace on more than one occasion however, his voice and temperament were cool. Emily felt, once again, as if she was about to walk into murky water.

"Ask me," he murmured.

Emily's eyebrows lifted. Hotch hadn't looked in her direction and yet, he read her mind. The invisible tether between them was not only a physical one but a telepathic one.

"What did you say?" she asked not sure if she really wanted to know the answer.

"That I don't know" Hotch replied honestly and turned his head to face her.

He heard Emily suck air through her teeth and looked down towards his hand that instinctively tightened on her thigh.

Emily, though she felt his fingers curl into her flesh through her pants, couldn't help but let that intrusive voice that sounded much too like her mother ring loud and clear. This, was exactly what she didn't want; mixed signals and emotions.

Hotch's low voice cut through the thoughts that had begun to swirl in her mind. "I have a lot to think about."

Emily's composure, like a veil, had fallen behind her eyes and she kept her response calm and vague. 'Diplomatic', she could hear her mother's own cool para-phrase. Just like an ambassador's doting daughter.

"I understand, Hotch".

"Em, it's not what you think-."

"We can't do this here." Emily interrupted him before he could continue. She wouldn't let him breakdown whatever barrier she had the strength to build when they had an audience. Regardless if they were asleep or not; her business was not for display.

Both agents glanced over to Morgan who was none the wiser as he slept peacefully whilst some R&B tune roared through his headphones.

"We can talk later?" Hotch asked silently praying that any slither of hope wasn't heard or seen by the woman who had currently claimed his heart.

"Yeah." She moved his hand from her leg and stood up from the table. "Later."

/

"We're heading to Riley's for breakfast, Princess, you in?". Morgan asked from his desk where he unpacked files from his go bag. He was the walking definition of work stays at work. And this was one of the many reasons why she loved him and was grateful for their friendship.

Just as Emily was about to decline the offer, her stomach rumbled almost as if it was protesting. Knowing her, she'd go home and sleep rather than eat so she nodded at Morgan and gathered a small pile of completed reports. "Has anyone asked Hotch?"

"Go ask him, girl. We'll meet you and maybe Hotch there." Morgan suggested as he picked up his go bag and slung it over his shoulder and walked towards the glass doors. She watched him throw his muscular free arm around Garcia as JJ caught up with them at the elevator.

Finally, alone, Emily made her way up the few steps and knocked on Hotch's door.

"Come in."

She entered with an easiness she didn't know she could still feign. She hadn't had to have this sort of protective veil around herself since she was a teenager although that small and irritating voice was constantly reminding her that she was getting involved with the one person who could not only break down any barrier she put up but could also see right through her.

"Here are my reports from the last week and the report from the Howard case." She put the papers onto of his desk and notice Hotch drop his pen before he sat back into his chair and raised his eyes to met her own.

"Thank you. What are you still doing here? I told everyone to go home and rest."

"The team has gone to Riley's for a drink and some breakfast. I wasn't going to go but I am and we'd like you to join us."

Hotch sucked through his teeth and picked up the pen to begin writing once more. "I can't. I have work I need to finish this morning."

"I think you should come."

"Prentiss…"

"Prentiss? Really?" Emily bit out, hurt coating her voice.

"Look, Hotch, this isn't about us. It's about you. You can't coop yourself up in this office all day everyday-."

"It's not everyday" he argued, mildly irritated at her dead-on accusation.

"It is every day, Hotch. You need to see your son and find a home for you both."

"Yes. And what about us?" he asked. "We haven't really spoken or seen each other."

Emily moved to stand behind one of the single seats in front of his desk. She found comfort in what little protection they offered.

"You know, I don't regret that night. I know I should because I swore to myself I would never be with you again." She whispered. Her words cut through him and whatever coolness he presented on the plane suddenly shifted. What was it about this woman?

"I swore I wouldn't let you in and I did, and it'll take some time for me to move on but I will… move on."

"We haven't even started anything, Emily."

"No, so we should stop before we do." She looked up to find him staring at her. "You need time, Aaron."

She didn't miss him shiver at the sound of his given name or the way his eyes widened. The time when she finally said it, was during a conversation as unpleasant as this. Figures.

Hotch frowned at her words and kept he eyes on the document in front of him.

"It's too soon for us to jump into anything and you're-."

"What? I'm what?" he snapped at her.

"You're so angry! And I don't think I can be in the firing line for your wrath. I don't want to be in the firing line."

"You won't be."

"I already have as an agent. I'm not doing this as your… I don't know what… your plaything."

"Fuck," He muttered under his breath. He ran a hand through his hair, hoping that the action would settle his temper though his own hand didn't work nearly as well as that of the woman in front of him. After another deep breath, he mustered the courage to speak, hoping the words came out calm, "how many times do I have to tell you that you are not a plaything."

"That night meant nothing to you?" Hotch said in an accusatory tone.

"I already said I don't regret it." Emily chipped back at him.

"But you won't be with me even though you said you'd let me in" His tone still firm.

"You have a lot going on and I do want to be with you but you need to figure out how to just be you. Single. A father. Can you go back to just being a boyfriend? You're still married and you need to control your temper."

Emily turned to leave his office not being able to look at his sullen face any longer. She wasn't ending anything but she was giving him both an in and an out. He could be more proactive with this new road he was currently heading down or he could stay at work, be miserable and lose the one thing that made him happier than anything: his child.

If they could be something more, then so be it and she hoped her words hung around him until he realised this road could be an opportunity rather than hindrance.

Hotch stood from his desk and peered through the blinds in his window to see Emily shrug on her coat with her back to him. He marched to the door which she had purposely left open.

Emily had turned to face his office and pulled the strap of her go bag onto her shoulder.

"For both of our sakes. And the team's" she waved a free hand at the empty desks of their teammates. "And your son."

With that, she spun around and staunted off towards the glass doors ready to leave work at work, all of it. She wondered and hoped he'd call out to her but he didn't. Instead, he loosened his tie and fumed silently at the sight of Emily walking away from him. When she didn't turn to look back at him or wait at the elevators, he managed to take a moment and understand that she wasn't doing this to hurt him but to help him.

She was right. He could lose his marriage but he couldn't lose his child. Nor could he lose her.

He tugged at the knot on his tie once more until the fabric separated and he undid the first two buttons on his shirt. Deciding to take her on, he left his briefcase by his desk and threw on his sports coat before locking his office door and hurrying towards the elevator.

/

"Hey, man!" Morgan called from the corner of the bar Hotch had just entered. "Emily said she was gunna talk to you. I didn't think you'd actually turn up." he added when Hotch pulled out a chair.

"Yes, well, I wasn't going to but I am hungry and I could use a drink". Hotch replied and scanned the bar. It was almost empty. He should hope so for 7am but there were a few agents he recognised from the Secret Service and a few of the friendly neighbourhood drunks but no raven-haired female agents of his.

"Where is Emily?" he asked the entire table.

"Oh, she changed her mind and went on home. Said she was really beat." Morgan quipped and gestured towards the bar, "What are you drinking, man, Scotch?"

"Sure, thanks."

"Emily text you?" he asked quietly in the direction of the media liaison.

"Yeah, she's not been sleeping well." JJ sipped her own glass of scotch.

"Is she okay?"

"She'll be fine, Hotch. I think this job tests the will and ability to compartmentalise of even the strongest people."

Hotch nodded at his blonde agent in agreement. "You're still not interested in taking the classes?"

JJ lifted her eyes to find a barely-there playful smile tug at her boss's mouth. "Uh no."

"You'd be great."

"You guys need me doing what I'm already doing. But thanks." JJ smiled in his direction and Hotch raised the glass that Morgan had plunked in front of him.

"Sir, can I ask-."

"We're off the clock." He said quickly, cutting JJ off.

"Sorry. Hotch."

"Depends on what you want to ask. Go on."

"Are you okay?" JJ asked.

He didn't know what to expect but it certainly was not that.

"What's made you ask this?" he swirled the amber liquid in his glass, suddenly both more tense and relaxed.

"I'm not sure. Something's different." She replied.

"I thought I was just me as always."

"Mmm" JJ swallowed the reminants of her own glass before responding, "you are, but there's just something… something."

"Something." He repeated.

"Can I ask another question?" she tested fully aware of her superior's lack of patience.

"Only one."

"Emily." JJ said carefully.

"That isn't a question."

"No, I'm not sure what I'm even trying to ask."

"I think I do and I want to remind you that even though we're off the clock, I'm still your supervisor." Hotch said with an edge to his voice. He felt like a bastard because whatever the media liaison was about to insinuate, she was right.

"Oh no… Hotch… I wasn't… It's not that" he felt even more like bastard hearing her trip over her words.

"I was just going to ask if you knew of anything bothering Emily. I mean, I get we're all friends and we all might talk or we all might not, but she's not really said anything to me or Garcia so maybe seeing as you're her boss, I wondered if she had come to you."

Hotch sighed in relief and knew that letting JJ fall over herself was the only way to protect Emily know matter how badly he felt about it. His eyes crinkled at the blonde agent and he hoped she could see that Emily had not shared her worries with him as her boss and not see that she had shared her worries with him as a lover.

"No, JJ. She hasn't come to me with any concerns but she has nothing to worry about. If it's her performance, she does as well as everyone. I think the last month has been hard on us all and with Gideon gone, I don't know." Hotch shook his head in disappointment.

Things were more tough with Gideon's absence and this was the second agent of his to leave in less than a year. Friendships tethered and a sense of dependency gone. With Emily's appearance, work load increased, his marriage rocky and ultimately collapsing and the guilt of being an absent parent, he wondered vaguely how he was still breathing.

JJ seemed satisfied with Hotch's answer and mild threat, which didn't go unnoticed by him. He was thankful that whatever JJ was thinking about had disappeared.

"It's been a hard year, Hotch, but we have a great team. We'll get through it." JJ's voice became of reason as their personal conversation ended. Too personal for his liking but he knew he had to give something on occasion.

"Yes." He whispered in response.

Yes, it had been a hard year. And yes, the team was great – beyond great. They were incredible!

Yes, they would all get through it. Get through this.

Working on Chapter 4