Author's Note: The second part of their night after the prison.

It's Complicated

Hotch awoke to find a familiar scent in his nostrils . . . Emily's shampoo.

But the scent was much stronger than he was used to.

It wasn't until he'd opened his eyes that he realized why that was . . . Emily was sprawled half on top of his chest. For a second he froze, momentarily panicked thinking that he'd done something REALLY stupid! But then he remembered.

Humphrey Bogart.

He'd fallen asleep watching The Maltese Falcon. And his ears clued him in to the fact that Humphrey was indeed still on the screen, so he knew from the length of the movie that probably less than an hour had gone by.

His eyes then took in the partly open pizza box at the end of the bed, and he deduced that Emily had eaten, and then fallen asleep while she was watching TV.

Just as he had.

The difference being of course that she fell asleep and then rolled over on top of him. That might possibly have been why he'd woken up. Because truth be told, he was still pretty exhausted so he didn't see waking up that quickly on his own. Now of course, he really needed Emily to NOT be lying on top of him.

Because she was soft and warm and she smelled really, really, good.

Actually, as he thought about it, those were all reasons in FAVOR of keeping her where she was. But he knew that she didn't have the same feelings for him that he did for her, so this was just a new form of torture.

He tried to shift over and out from underneath her body without waking her up.

Easier said than done.

Just when he started to shimmy to the right, she followed his movement while also wrapping her arm across his stomach as she nuzzled his throat.

As Hotch took in a deep breath, he sent up a silent, sarcastic prayer of thanks to the universe. Then he lay there for a moment feeling Emily's warm breath tickling his throat.

The anxiety about the situation started to fade then as a sense of calm came over him.

This was the first time he'd felt at peace in months. Since long before Haley had left. They'd been fighting so much those last days of their marriage, that with the exception of time spent with Jack, he didn't have much in the way of happy memories to call upon for most of the last two years.

With his fingertips now ghosting over Emily's back, he took in a slow even breath, thinking again about the situation, as he tried to remember why this was such a bad idea. Yes, it would generally be considered "inappropriate" to be in this position with one of his female agents. But again, they were long past that word holding any meaning in their professional lives.

The choice to deepen their friendship had moved them beyond that point.

Of course they still had physical boundaries, but those were the usual man/woman boundaries. And because of those boundaries he was very careful to keep his hand on the middle of her back. Any decent man knew, hands stay above the waist and below the chest unless permission was given. And given that she was sleeping, and that they didn't (presently, a little traitorous part of his brain piped up) have that kind of intimacy in their relationship, obviously there was no permission implied or forthcoming.

So the issue of 'bad touching' was addressed. And beyond that, they were both fully dressed and on top of the covers. She'd fallen asleep and rolled over. Really, it was all very innocent.

And he was still so very tired.

His eyes felt gritty, and he knew that he needed more sleep. And some little part of his brain reminded him, the traitorous part again, that this could be the only opportunity he'd ever have to hold her like this.

So with that last thought fresh on his mind, Hotch shut down all the other little voices in his brain that were telling him to wake Emily up. Instead he just tipped his head over to hers, wrapped his arm fully around her back . . . and closed his eyes again.

/*/*/*/

Emily felt a shiver run through her body right before her eyes popped open.

Why was she so cold?!

Then she remembered that she'd forgotten to dry her hair before she lay down to watch TV. And it was still snow weather in Montana and she was only wearing her t-shirt and pajama pants.

Although . . . her brow wrinkled . . . she wasn't quite as cold as she should have been, and that was because she was cuddled up against something warm.

Her eyes widened.

Oh crap! She was cuddling up on Hotch!

Now feeling a full body cringe of tension, she shifted her gaze up slightly to see if he was awake.

Eyes shut.

Oh thank God, she thought with a sigh of relief! That would have been SO embarrassing! He was the one on the bed first and she'd totally invaded his personal space! Yes, she'd only climbed up so she could sit with him, but still, that wasn't how things ended up!

And she was about to push herself back so she could get off the bed, when she realized that his arm was wrapped around her waist.

Pushing aside her embarrassment then about what she'd done to him, she stopped moving and simply took note of her current situation . . . she was cuddled up with a very sweet man. Granted the very sweet man was her boss, but . . . her nose wrinkled . . . that had stopped being an issue between them. And really, they were just sleeping. For God's sake she'd been pressed completely against him for Lamaze class, so it wasn't like they hadn't been this up close and personal before. And Hotch was one of the few men in her life that she trusted completely. The idea of him taking advantage of a situation like this was laughable.

So after another moment of looking for any real cons, she decided not to get up.

They'd had a hellish afternoon, and honestly, it was just nice to have this connection with him. Unfortunately though, that didn't change the fact that she had woken up because she was freezing.

Her hair had mostly dried but she had the chills.

That's when her gaze caught on her blanket that she remembered pulling on earlier, now hanging off the edge of the bed . . . she snagged it with one hand. And after she'd quietly shaken it out, she pulled it over her head and shoulders.

It was big enough to fall like a curtain around Hotch as well.

And when she looked over to see if he had stirred, there was something about the softness of his expression that made her stare at him for a moment.

He'd been so good to her, truly. Just looking after her like nobody in her life ever had before. So on an impulse, she leaned up to kiss his cheek and then brush back his hair. When she put her head back down on his chest, she felt his arm tighten around her waist as he let out a sigh.

Then he pulled her in a little closer.

The action was probably involuntary, Emily told herself as she suddenly felt a stabbing ache of loneliness and depression settle in her chest. It would come to her at the oddest times. And she really wished that there was a pill to make that misery go away. But . . . she huffed humorlessly to herself . . . even there was such a pill, she wouldn't be allowed to have it while she was pregnant.

Pregnant.

Again, it was just her and Baby. Though . . . she reached up to lightly run her fingers along Hotch's jaw . . . that didn't really feel accurate anymore. Because Hotch certainly held a different kind of presence in her life now. He was there for her, and supported her, in ways that he never had before.

In ways that she had never expected he would.

At that thought, she took in a deep breath and turned to bury her face in his neck, smelling his aftershave, and feeling his warmth take away the chills. It was nice being with him like this . . . she closed her eyes again and sighed . . . really nice.

Too bad they couldn't sleep like this more often.

Suddenly she felt Hotch's hand rubbing along her side. Then he asked in a gravelly voice, "are you cold?"

Hotch had decided, given the blanket that he could feel on top of them, Emily must have also woken up, realized that they were entangled and decided she too was okay with the sleeping arrangement. Therefore, he wasn't going to feel strange about it.

No, it was feeling her cold cheek against his skin that had woken him up. And now he was just worried about her getting sick.

Although she was surprised to find Hotch was now awake, for a moment Emily didn't answer him. Instead she found herself just staring at a mark on his neck that she'd never noticed before. But then she suddenly realized it was an abrasion from the earlier fight with Willis.

The one where he'd almost died.

She let out a heavy breath then as she let her hand settle on his chest.

"Yeah," she nodded slightly, her cheek brushing against his t-shirt as she whispered back, "well, I was, but I just grabbed the travel blanket."

Hotch's eyes closed again.

"That's not going to be enough," he murmured, half to himself, half to her, "it's still winter here."

They were going to have to get up.

Crap.

So without another word he rolled Emily off of him, sat up, and rubbed his hands down his face.

For a moment, Emily was absolutely mortified . . . wow, she had TOTALLY misread the situation! Because clearly he didn't want her sleeping with him!

And feeling the corresponding heat of her embarrassment begin to climb her cheeks, she mumbled, "I'm sorry," as she turned to slide off the bed. But then Hotch touched her arm . . . and she froze.

"I can stay here, or I can sleep in my own room. Your choice."

His voice was soft . . . hesitant. And her teeth sunk into her lip when she turned to look at him . . . but he wouldn't look at her.

He was just staring down at the carpet.

Feeling her embarrassment fading as she realized why he had responded the way that he had . . . he was the one who was unsure of himself here . . . she reached over to gently grasp his fingers.

"I wish you'd stay. I, I . . ." she stammered softly as her eyes started to burn, "I get lonely sometimes."

That was the first time she'd ever told anyone that. In actuality it was a lie though. She was lonely all the time.

Every damn day.

Slowly dragging his eyes up from the floor, Hotch brought his gaze over to Emily's. And seeing the tears in her eyes, his heart clenched. He gave her a sad smile.

"Me too."

As she squeezed his fingers, she then asked him hesitantly, "so if we share the bed, you won't mind if I steal the blankets?"

Pushing down the ache rising in his chest, Hotch held her gaze as he slowly shook his head.

"No . . . no I won't."

That hadn't occurred to him. That they might have sought each other out for the same reasons. They were two lonely people. So even if her reasons for wanting the connection with him were different than his were with her, it didn't make them any less valid. Either way though, as he stared into her dark brown eyes rimmed with sadness, if this was something that would make her feel better, then that was enough for him.

Emily's expression brightened as she pushed herself off the bed, "okay then."

Hotch had just given her permission to sleep with him! And he would never have any idea how much it meant to her to not have to be alone for just one night.

After they'd both pulled back the covers, Emily climbed back onto the bed. But Hotch, taking note of his rumbling stomach, went over to the desk to grab a slice of pizza. And as he stood there slowly chewing and swallowing he made sure that he really understood what he was about to do.

Climb under the covers with Emily.

He wasn't worried about any inappropriate physiological reactions, they were both dressed in t-shirts and sweats. Yes, he was attracted to her, but he wasn't a fifteen year old boy. So really it was the emotional implications he was making sure that he'd accepted.

Whatever this was to him, he knew it was something different to her. He nodded to himself . . . that was okay though.

So after he'd turned off the lamps, he walked over and climbed back into the bed with her.

Oddly enough it didn't even feel strange to do it. And even though he still had that ache in his chest knowing that this was just an illusion of happiness, it wasn't as bad as he might have thought.

Because the illusion was better than nothing.

And that's really all he had in his life . . . nothing. Just a few hours of light on the weekends when he was with Jack. Otherwise, his life was just a world filled with pain, blood, and violence.

For almost a minute he and Emily lay there stiffly next to one another . . . and then Hotch realized how ridiculous they were being.

They'd known each other for years, sometimes they held hands, touched each other's faces. Hell, they'd done a damn Lamaze class together just last week! So he knew that their bodies were already acclimated to each others' presence.

They'd gravitated towards one another when they were sleeping.

And if they both fell asleep at that moment, the exact same thing would happen again. So with that thought in mind he simply lifted his arm up . . . and a moment later she slid over and curled into his side, sliding her hand up slightly so it was over his chest.

Emily spread her palm out . . . she could feel Hotch's heart beating.

It was going too fast.

Her expression softened as she realized then that he was nervous. That made her feel better, because she was nervous too. This was something that they hadn't done before. Sleeping with someone, even in the manner that the way that they were doing it here, that was a way to bond.

It was intimate.

Emily's eyes crinkled as Hotch shifted to pull the blankets up around her.

See there, him doing things like that was exactly WHY she wanted this connection with him! She was starting to become a little confused about Hotch's role in her life.

Even about her feelings for him.

But this was probably a good way to maybe figure that out.

She let out a soft sigh as she rubbed her cheek on his t-shirt.

Hotch pulled Emily more tightly against his side, running his fingers along the bare skin on her forearm. He had decided, in for a penny, in for a pound. Even though he was still exhausted, he at least wanted to enjoy this for a few minutes before he passed out again. So he looked up to the television.

Another old noire movie.

Laura.

It must be theme night. His musing was interrupted by Emily's whisper of, "I love this movie."

Hotch's eyes crinkled . . . something they had in common.

"Yeah," he murmured back, "it is pretty good. I like Dana Andrews."

She grinned against his chest.

"Of course you do. Strong silent type with zero desire to make nice, he just wants to get the job done and doesn't care who he pisses off in the process."

With his lips now twitching in amusement, Hotch's gaze shifted down to hers.

He caught her eyes in the glow from the television.

"Are you trying to imply something, Agent Prentiss?"

She fluttered her lashes innocently, "of course not, sir."

Huffing, he shifted his eyes back to the screen, "didn't think so."

They watched the movie in silence for a while after that, probably at least a half an hour. And just as Hotch felt himself starting to drift off again, he heard Emily say softly.

"Thank you."

Blinking twice to perk up, he looked down at her and whispered back, "for what?"

"Everything," her fingers slid across his chest, "for this. For staying with me when you could have just gone back to your own room," her eyes started to water, "I lied to you before. I'm not just lonely sometimes, I'm lonely all the time!"

The last word unexpectedly came out as a sob. And when her voice broke . . . it also broke the dam inside her.

"And I'm scared," she continued with a sniffle, "I don't know if I can do this by myself. I'm afraid of being a bad mother. I'm afraid that my child will grow to resent me like I do my mother. Or . . ." the tears began to run down her face, "that there will be another accident and I'll become my mother."

Now wide awake, and his heart breaking for her, Hotch rolled slightly and pulled Emily into his arms.

She was crying into his chest.

"Emily," he whispered while rubbing his hand down her side, "I don't know everything that happened in your family, but I can tell you, those are all normal fears. I worry all the time that I'm not a good father, that maybe Jack will grow to hate me because of the divorce, or because I travel so much," he swallowed, "or God forbid that something might happen to him. But it's just part of the package." He rubbed his hand down her back, "there are so many other good things to look forward to. When they smile at you for the first time, or take their first step, say their first word. Trust me, all of the good, after Baby's born, it will outweigh all of the bad."

She started sniffling again, and then she looked up at him.

"Really?"

Staring at her tear streaked face, Hotch wanted so badly to kiss her. To try to take away some of her pain. But he didn't, instead he just wiped his thumb along the edge of her eye as he continued softly.

"I promise. It's just scarier now because you're still waiting on the rest of it. But all the good stuff is coming, just be patient and keep a good thought," he gave her a sad smile, "and just remember, you're not alone,"

He paused for a moment, thinking about how much he was willing to share of himself. How much he could share without revealing his feelings for her. But then he decided that maybe the little voice in his head was right. Maybe, if he was lucky, it might someday be possible for them to have a different kind of relationship. But that was never going to happen if he didn't at least start putting himself out there. After what had happened with Haley, the damage she'd done, sharing his feelings with someone was terrifying. But if he had any hope of changing things between them, first off, Emily would have to know what she was getting into.

He was a mess.

But mess or not, he was starting to see that these feelings he had weren't just going to go away. He was falling in love with her. And that meant he was either going to have to spend God knew how many months, or years, being her friend and loving her from afar, or he was going to have take a shot at maybe finding a way to reach her.

He decided to take the shot.

Even rejection couldn't be any worse than what his life was now.

Decision made to try and make a connection again, he cleared his throat . . . and jumped off the cliff.

"I've been lonely since the divorce. I don't know what to do with my life. I love my son more than anything, but I know I can't build my entire happiness around him. It's not fair to put so much on a little boy's shoulders. I'd smother him, and then it's guaranteed he'll grow to resent me. And I don't know what I would do if that happened, because he's all I have left."

Those were probably the hardest words he'd ever had to say. Because he'd just bared his soul to the first woman since Haley, and he didn't know how she would respond.

Emily wiped her hand across her face as she looked up at Hotch in wonder. She hadn't expected that. But apparently they were throwing all of their cards on the table.

And her face darkened then as her next confession came.

"I blame myself for my sister's death. I carry that guilt every day of my life. My mother had forbidden her from going to the prom because she didn't like the boy Melanie was dating, so I took Mel shopping and paid for her dress. And then I lied to my parents and said she was staying with me at Princeton that whole weekend. But actually I'd flown down and taken a room at a hotel. She got ready there, and I gave her a kiss on the cheek, and told her that she looked beautiful, then I sent her off to her dance."

Her eyes dropped down as her voice cracked.

"That was the last time I saw her. A drunk driver hit their limo on the way home. The limo driver and four of the kids died at the scene, one died on the way to the hospital. The sixth boy, my sister's boyfriend, he suffered a massive brain injury. He lived for ten years as a vegetable before dying of an infection from a bed sore. Melanie was one of the ones killed instantly," her eyes started to burn again, "but she never would have been there if we'd just done what my mother had said to do. It was my fault she died, and my mother has never forgiven me for that," she wiped the corner of her eye, "I've never forgiven myself for that."

She'd never told anyone that story before. And she certainly hadn't planned to tell Hotch tonight. Or ever. But after he'd said what he had, she'd had this overwhelming urge to unburden her own soul with the hopes that maybe he was the one who would understand her pain.

And then maybe it would lessen her guilt.

Because she didn't want to be a bad mom, and she was worried that all of these things that she carried, had screwed her up so badly that her child wouldn't have a chance at a normal life. After all it wasn't like she was walking around worrying about stealing a candy bar when she was seven. She'd killed her sister and then been gang raped when she was twenty-four.

To put it mildly . . . those were the kinds of scars that ran deep.

Hotch stared at Emily for a moment . . . he'd always wondered how her sister had died. But he had not expected to find out today. That explained a lot though. That cloud she carried with her.

And her problems with her mother.

He ran his thumb along her cheek as he said sadly.

"Emily, that wasn't your fault. That was the drunk's fault. Even if you hadn't given her the money, isn't it likely that your sister would have snuck out and gone to the prom anyway?"

After a moment's contemplation, Emily nodded slowly.

"I suppose. My mother was rather controlling, and we both had been sneaking out since we were thirteen." Then she shook her head, "but Hotch, that's NOT what happened on that night. I gave her the money. I helped her get ready. I did those things."

He shook his head, trying to be as gentle with her as possible.

It was obvious how fragile she was at that moment.

"But Emily," he responded softly, "you don't know that your sister would still be alive today even if you hadn't done those things. You admit that she could have snuck out on her own. Your mother also could have changed her mind, or maybe your dad could have talked her into letting her go. So many things could have happened," his expression softened, "so you can't keep blaming yourself for an accident that you didn't cause. You were just one small piece of the puzzle. Because by your reasoning, then all of those other parents of the kids in the limo should still be blaming themselves for their children's deaths too," he picked up her hand, "do you think that would be right? Should they all feel guilty just for letting their children attend their prom?"

Her gaze dropped as she said softly.

"No, no I suppose not."

How was it that Hotch was able to show things to her in new ways? Ways that she actually paid attention to and made her feel better. She looked back up at him.

Now she wanted to talk to him about so many things. To see what he thought. To see if he could give her a new perspective. To tell her when she was right, or when she was wrong.

But he looked so tired.

And it was probably too soon for that anyway. Tonight was the most she'd ever shared with anyone about her past. And she knew how much it had taken for him to disclose something so personal with her as his feelings about the direction of his life and his worries about his son.

So she reached up and cupped his jaw. Then she asked hesitantly.

"Do you think maybe we could talk like this again sometime?"

He gave her a sad smile, "anytime you want."

Given what was in her file, he had a feeling he already knew what else she wanted to talk about. God only knew what baggage she was carrying around from that day. He winced internally . . . days.

Emily's eyes crinkled slightly.

"Good," she put her head down on his chest again before she murmured, "talking to you always make me feel better."

Hotch ran his fingers through her hair, thinking about maybe going out a little more on his limb. Finally he just said fuck it . . . and jumped out of the tree. He pressed his lips to her ear.

"Lately," he whispered on a slow exhale, "just being near you makes me feel better."

There . . . he winced . . . he'd said it. Or at least had said enough that she should get the point he was trying to express. So now she'd either freeze up and shove him out of the bed, or . . . he bit his lip . . . she wouldn't.

Emily's breath caught in surprise at Hotch's words. For a moment she just blinked as she suddenly became very AWARE of the warmth of his hand on her back, and the heat of his body beneath hers. But when she let her eyes snap up to his, all she saw was a faint, tentative smile. Then he shook his head. And that's when knew that he wasn't asking anything of her. He was just letting her know, for him . . . things had changed. But as she let her gaze shift over his shoulder to the headboard, she didn't know if things had changed in the same way for her.

This was all kind of catching her by surprise.

The one thing she did know, was that she didn't want to leave him hanging out there. That would be cruel. So she took a breath, and while using his chest for leverage, she pushed herself up slightly so she could properly meet his gaze. She gave him a soft smile.

"I need to think about it."

Her words came out as a whisper, and then she leaned in to kiss his cheek. After that, she moved up his body, wrapped her arm around his neck, and snuggled in tight next to him, because the one thing she wanted to make crystal clear, was that she wasn't rejecting him.

She just needed a little time to process what he'd said.

And a moment later she felt the arm around her waist tighten, just before he pressed a kiss to her temple.

"I know it might seem a little out of left field," he whispered back, "and I don't want you to feel uncomfortable, or pressed. You take as much time as you need to figure things out, but no matter what you decide you want to do, I promise that I'll still be here for you just like I am now."

Hotch slowly exhaled then, feeling that ache in his chest lessen slightly. Because her reaction had been more than he had hoped for. If it was a flat out no, then she would have stiffened up, or at least shifted to her own side of the bed.

But she hadn't done either of those things.

All she'd done was snuggle in even tighter. That felt like she really was going to consider it. But he didn't want to dwell on it anymore. The ball was in her court. So he shifted his attention back to the television and tried to mentally return to that place he'd been before they'd started talking.

It had been a good place.

Emily took a deep breath, feeling an unexpected flood of warmth and contentment flooding her body. It was this sensation of being wrapped up in Hotch's arms. She honestly couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this safe at any point in her life, let alone with a man. Yes, that probably was a very good sign, but still, she wasn't sure if she was ready to totally change the nature of their relationship. Because it wasn't just about her feelings. Or his. It was about their children as well.

Jack and Baby.

She'd never been in a healthy relationship. Never even come close. She was a mess, and every relationship so far, had always imploded in the end. So she was terrified of risking all of their hearts for something that she wasn't even sure she was CAPABLE of sustaining. Because she knew Hotch, he was an "all in" kind of guy. And even though his marriage had eventually fallen apart, he and Haley had been together for almost twenty years. By all accounts, they'd been happy for the majority of that time.

Which meant that clearly he was capable of sustaining a healthy relationship.

And as tempting as it would be to just climb on top of him right now and trust that he alone could make this work for them . . . she could never hurt him like that. If she couldn't bring at least fifty percent to the table, she'd be setting them up to fail. And it was clear, as of this moment, his heart was far more vested than hers.

Now she understood though why he worried so much, and why he did so many sweet things for her. Actually a lot of things made sense now. And she started to feel kind of stupid for not seeing it before. She huffed to herself.

Some profiler she was.

But sometimes you just couldn't see what was right in front of your face. Either way though . . . she let out a soft sigh as she closed her eyes and breathed him in . . . things had definitely changed.

Now she needed to decide what to do about that.

A/N 2: I hadn't originally been planning on any disclosures in the first trimester, but as they were talking it seemed rather silly for them in this world, to go down the same path they're about to in one of my other worlds. The mutual denial approach. Even if here it would have been Emily denying that she'd noticed Hotch's feelings for her. So I let Hotch put a couple of cards subtly on the table. And I think Emily's reasons for being hesitant, beyond just not being sure yet if what she feels towards him is romantic, made sense. As a soon to be mother trying to be responsible, you'd have to be cautious about any relationships you got into. Although Hotch would (obviously) be a good catch, her worries about screwing up all of her past romances seemed valid. You wouldn't want to start something that would fizzle out, and then Hotch is all attached to the baby, and maybe the baby is old enough to be attached to him. Those are valid concerns. And I thought they were new ones for our couple, so it seemed a fresh way to go. We'll get it sorted ;)

If you pay attention to the little things, you'll notice that compared to the Girl'verse, in this world Emily's favorite actor is Humphrey Bogart, not Cary Grant. And Em's favorite pizza here is Hawaiian, and not a pepperoni and mushroom. It's odd, but things like that really are what allow me to write this story. I have to make them different people, to approach them differently.