Constant
Emily hated daytime television, but it was really all she could do as she healed. It was driving her crazy. Since she dealt with a high drama job, soap operas did nothing for her. The constant parade of gorgeous, shirtless men couldn’t even hold her attention. She sighed as she flopped back against the pillows, wincing as she pulled her stitches.
“That’ll teach you to ignore doctor’s orders.”
Emily met the usually intense brown eyes with a wide smile. Aaron had been by to visit every day for the two weeks she’d been stuck in the hospital bed and she was more than happy to have the company. Today he was even early.
“Doctor’s orders don’t trump the crap that is daytime television,” she replied as he pulled up the plastic chair he always left by the window. “Still no case?”
“You’re supposed to be resting, not worrying about work,” he admonished. “Morgan’s chomping at the bit to do something.” He settled one ankle on the opposite thigh, remarkably comfortably in the hospital room. By the end of the visit, his tie and jacket were removed and his shirt sleeves rolled up his forearms.
“I can imagine,” Emily responded, her smile still in place.
“What about you?”
The smile dropped as she groaned in annoyance. “From the sounds of it they want to keep me until the stitches come out.”
Aaron raised an eyebrow. “I don’t blame them. I only hope you’ve been taking better care of them than dropping back against the pillows like that.”
She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t pull anything. And I’m bored! They haven’t even let me start walking yet! It was a clean cut for Pete’s sake, they’d have anyone else up and around by now. At this point, any change of scenery would be nice.”
“Well, Emily, you’re about to get your wish.” Dr Hann had impeccable timing.
“I can walk?” Emily asked hopefully, the same question she’d asked for a couple of days.
“Of course not! I don’t trust you to walk with the whining, and complaining you’ve been doing. You are definitely not careful enough with those stitches young lady. With you, I am taking no chances. However, we do have this nice wheelchair all ready for you.”
Aaron chuckled as Emily glared at the doctor. “That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,” she grumbled.
“Then rest instead of fussing all the time. You’re lucky you didn’t pull one out last night.”
Emily winced. She’d expected the nightmares, a regular side effect of a traumatic event, but she hadn’t banked on telling anyone about them just yet. It wasn’t like they could do anything anyway. The last couple of nights had been particularly violent and nurses had rushed in to wake her up and check her injury. She’d been surprised to find that two of the sitches had started bleeding again from the thrashing around she’d been doing.
Aaron looked rightfully concerned, but Emily was studiously avoiding his gaze. He’d have to get it out of her later.
“I’m sure if you ask nice enough, your nice young man will push for you.”
Hotch had known he’d agree before she turned pleading eyes on him. When she did, he realized that he wouldn’t have stood a chance anyway. “Not too far,” he warned, ever conscious.
Emily rolled her eyes, but had brightened significantly. “The garden? I need fresh air!”
Hotch looked to the doctor, who nodded. “Sure.”
It didn’t take long to get Emily into the wheelchair, something that most definitely did not come as a surprise to either of the men. Emily was very cooperative when she wanted something bad enough and there were only two things she could think of that would be better at that moment: walking and leaving.
Of course, that didn’t include her Hotch-related desires, but she wasn’t even going to acknowledge those. They’d been popping up more and more frequently as of late, especially since she was alone in her hospital room and he was her only constant visitor. The BAU teams worked close and Emily suspected that if fraternization were allowed “ and Reid and JJ would just jump each other already “ it would be rampant in her own team. And she certainly wasn’t excluding herself in all of that. It was too bad she wanted a man she couldn’t have.
The garden was glorious, the day so perfect as they made their way through the greenery, but for all Emily cared, it could have been pouring rain. She was just glad to be outside of the jail cell disguised as a hospital room.
“Pyjamas,” Hotch commented once they found a bench for him to sit on. He didn’t think twice about helping her out of the chair to sit with him.
She looked down at the light, penguin-printed pants and matching button-up top. “Garcia brought them for me yesterday. I was really just glad to get out of the hospital gown.”
Hotch chuckled. “They aren’t the most flattering.”
Emily leaned her head back, taking in the heat of the sun on her face. It felt fantastic and her eyes fell closed in sheer bliss. The fresh air was a welcome change from the constant smell of antiseptic and bleach.
Hotch smiled at the happy look on Emily’s face. She’d always been anxious in the hospital, fidgety and uncomfortable. Out here, she looked much more at ease. And, he admitted to himself, so much more beautiful.
“Tell me a story,” Emily requested suddenly, leaning her head on her shoulder, her whole body following. Or, it did until she leaned awkwardly and shot up with a hiss.
Hotch moved quickly and immediately, bending over her, hands stroking her sides. “Are you okay?”
She didn’t say anything for a few moments. Then she took his left hand and held it just under her own against her scar. Finally her eyes opened to meet the questions in his. “The heat works like a painkiller.”
“Maybe we should go back in.”
She was shaking her head before he’d finished the suggestion. “No way. The doctors have been cutting back on the strength and dose anyway.”
“Is that a good thing?” he asked, carefully manoeuvring himself to sit again while keeping his hand on her stomach.
“If I don’t want to be addicted to horse tranquillizers,” Emily replied with wry humour. “Now what about my story?”
“What kind of story?” Hotch asked with a sigh, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and gently dragging her body into his. It was the only logical place for his free arm, after all, and the closer she was, the more comfortable his arm was going to be stretching across her body and his.
“I don’t care,” she answered, dropping her head to his shoulder. “Any story. It can be about Reid’s escapades for all I care, just tell me a story.”
Hotch chuckled at the first idea it brought to mind.
“What?” she asked, raising her head.
“I can remember the first case I worked with Reid,” he answered, gently returning her head to his shoulder.
Emily echoed his laugh. “Tell me.”
It was a few hours later that Hotch wheeled Emily back into her room, the latter trying to hide her large yawns. She’d actually fallen asleep during one of the stories he’d been telling her about the team before she joined and it had been his cue to return her to bed.
Emily was reluctant to give up her wheelchair for two, solid reasons. It meant the loss of the freedom she’d had for a few hours and it meant Hotch was probably going to head home. Emily lived for the few people that stopped by. The rest of the team came by sporadically, but Hotch had come every day. It had been a welcome break from the mundane routine of her day.
Once she was settled again, her pill swallowed and eyelids drooping, she grabbed Hotch’s hand, and his attention. “Thank you for telling me the stories, and helping with the pain,” she said sincerely. “It means a lot that you still come and visit.”
“No thanks necessary,” he responded, impulsively leaning in to kiss her cheek. “That reminds me, I brought these for you.” He lifted a Barnes & Noble bag from the nearby chair. “Everyone contributed but I think you’ll like the ones at the bottom the best.” This time, the kiss was brushed against her forehead. “Try not to harass the doctors and please try not to pull your stitches?”
She smiled sheepishly. “You’ll come by tomorrow?” She hated how vulnerable and small she sounded, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. She could feel his hand slipping out of hers.
“I’ll come by again tomorrow.”