She was released two days later with a prescription and strict orders not to over stress herself. The worst part was those had been Dr Hann’s words as Hotch was wrapping an arm around her back to steady for the walk to his car. She’d firmly and stubbornly refused to use a wheelchair.
She leaned her head back against the passenger’s seat, placing her hands over the healing scar. She was glad to be walking again, but it was still painful after a while.
“You okay?” Hotch asked as he buckled himself in.
Emily groaned. “I’m fine,” she said in frustration. “I’m sick of people asking me that.”
He chuckled. “We have to.”
“Well stop. I’m perfectly capable of telling you when I’m not okay.” It amused her that she knew he was raising an eyebrow incredulously. “I am,” she repeated.
“But you won’t.”
“I’m not going to miraculously get better. There’s going to be some pain in the whole experience. No pain, no gain.”
“You’ll put yourself back in the hospital with that kind of attitude,” he shot back. “The doctor’s still have you on medication for the pain.”
She rolled her eyes but part of her heart warmed at the notion that he was so concerned about her recovery. “I won’t over-do myself.”
“This from the woman who was doing laps around her room late at night before doctors allowed it. Excuse me if I don’t trust your word on this one.”
“Your faith in me is astounding,” Emily said wryly actually sticking her tongue out at him.
They chatted amicably for the rest of the ride and Emily was surprised to find they didn’t talk about work or serial killers. It really shouldn’t have come as a shock, after all, they’d spent hours together not talking about work while she was in the hospital. Yet part of her had worried that the hospital acted as a buffer and now that she was out, things would shift or change. Apparently she’d been wrong.
Haley had found a place closer to her parents so Hotch had kept the house they’d lived in. He pulled smoothly into the driveway shooting her a look. “I’m going to grab your bag, then come around. Don’t move.”
“Is that an order?” she asked impishly.
“Yes,” he answered as he snatched her bag from the back. “I don’t want to drive you all the way back to the hospital when I just got you home.”
“You’re paranoid,” she teased, opening her door and swinging herself around. It was all done with her right side and she’d known it would put minimum strain on her side.
Hotch sighed as he saw her wriggling to the edge of the seat. “Patience is not one of your virtues.”
She grinned unrepentantly allowing him to bend and wrap an arm around her back. “So I’ve been told.”
They made it up the front walk, Emily taking most of her own weight but allowing him to keep his arm against her back. Who was she to complain if he wanted to stay close?
“Excuse the mess,” he apologized as he pushed the front door open. “I didn’t exactly get a chance to straighten up.”
Emily snorted as she took in the folders and pages spread across the coffee table. “You are such an addict.”
He sighed, closing his eyes and putting a hand to his forehead. “Yeah.” He opened his eyes to see her aiming for the coffee table. “Emily, you are not cleaning up after me. Come on, I’ll show you your room.” The look on her face told him if he so much as suggested she take a nap she’d enjoy ripping out his insides and she huffed when he waved her up the stairs first.
“The bathroom is this door here,” he pointed out to her. “And that’s Jack’s room when he stays.”
Emily smiled softly as she passed the open door and caught a glimpse of the room. It was decorated with stuffed animals, trains and cars. She’d expected nothing less.
“And this is your room until you’re cleared to go back to work.”
She smiled her genuine thanks as he dropped her small bag on the bed and made a mental note to give JJ or Garcia a call so she could pick up a few more things from her apartment.
“I have to get back to the BAU,” he said apologetically, interrupting her mental to do list.
She waved him back out. “Go, I’ll be fine. And I promise to keep myself out of trouble for a few hours.”
Hotch still looked like he didn’t want to leave and she couldn’t decide if it was because he wanted to watch over her or if it was because he just wanted to be there with her. She raised an eyebrow. “I can come with you if you’re that worried.”
“No,” he answered immediately.
“Then go! I have full mobility in all fingers so I can dial 911 if I have to.” She perched her right hand on her hip, her left settled over her scar. “Are you always this difficult to get out of the house?”
“You’ll call if you need anything?”
Now she was glaring. “If I’d have known staying with you was going to be this stressful, I’d have stayed with my mother.”
The slight curving of the corners of her mouth clued him into her tidbit of teasing. “Ouch.”
“Go,” she repeated waving her good hand.
It felt a lot different to actually be shooed out of the house instead of yelled at for it and he found himself reflecting on the process as he climbed back in the car and headed out to Quantico. Emily had all but pushed him out the door. His mind wandered around the concept for the whole ride.
“Hey Hotch,” Morgan greeted when he returned to the bullpen. “You go out for lunch?”
“Something like that,” the older man said with a nod. “You have the final reports for the White case yet? I want it on my desk before you head to Boston for the ViCAP interview.”
“All on your desk,” Morgan promised. “And JJ was looking for you earlier.”
Hotch nodded as he climbed the stairs. “I’ll give her a call, thanks, Morgan.”
Once the office door was firmly closed, Morgan turned to Reid, an eyebrow raised. The younger agent shrugged as he bent his head back over his pages. JJ breezed in just then, a whirlwind as usual, blond hair trailing behind her.
“He back?”
“You know where he went?” Morgan asked even as he nodded his answer to her question.
“It’s Hotch,” she pointed out. “When do we ever know anything personal?” Still, the question had effectively stopped JJ’s progress.
“This he’s finally moved on after Haley?”
That got Reid’s attention for as much as he was the genius, he could be just as much of a gossip mongrel as any of the rest of them. “A lunch date?”
“Nah, he went off site,” JJ pointed out. “And we know the man is dedicated to his job. He wouldn’t leave unless it was something important.”
“Jack?” Morgan suggested.
“He was too calm coming back,” Reid disagreed.
“Then what made him leave?” Morgan inquired. Then he shook his head. “I’ve got research to do for Boston. Garcia’s been looking for all of the information she can.”
“We might be going with you,” JJ said on a sigh. “They’ve got a serial rapist and they’ve asked for our help.”
Morgan shook his head. “I hope not. We just got back from LA.”
“Yeah, well, crime never stops,” JJ said with a wry smile.
“Too bad.”
Emily sighed as she reclined against the couch in Hotch’s house, letting the music she’d turned on sooth the ach in her side. She’d been careful as she straightened up around the place but there had been just enough cases of a forgetful mind that there was now a dull ache in her abdomen.
That was after she decided he worked way too much, had horrible taste in music and that she was going to need to head back to her apartment to pick up a few things if she was going to stay with him. At the very least, she needed a few CDs and DVDs to occupy her time. And sweatpants and maybe a few oversized button up shirts if she could find any in her closet. She couldn’t live in pyjamas and sliding anything over her head was still a painful thought.
She looked around for the phone, thanking someone that her purse had been processed and retured, cell phone and all, and was now lying just inside the door. Garcia’s name came first when she sorted by last name, but she figured JJ might be less likely to gossip.
“Jareau.”
“JJ, it’s Emily.”
“Hey!” JJ brightened immediately. “How are you?”
Emily groaned. “Sick of hearing that question!”
JJ laughed. “They clear you to go home?”
“Yeah. Can you do me a favour?”
“You need some place to stay?” JJ asked immediately.
“No, I’m good, but I do need to get back to my place for a few things. Do you think you could get me there and back?” She was chewing her bottom lip, not used to having to ask for help.
“I can swing by tomorrow. You don’t have someone there?”
Sometimes she hated that she worked with some of the smartest minds in the world. “Yeah, but this is something I’d rather do with another woman.”
“Tomorrow?”
Emily sighed. “Thanks JJ.”
“Sure thing!”
She hung up with a smile. It warmed her to no end when she thought about how much of a family the team was. But she’d think about it later. Right now, it felt like painkillers were definitely in order. And maybe a nap…
It felt odd to come home to a quiet house when he knew someone else was there, but silence was exactly what greeted him when he stepped through his front door. That and tidy tables. He smiled when he saw his kitchen was still a disaster.
Since there was no sign of his houseguest on the ground floor, he made his way to the room he’d given her, not surprised in the slightest to find her dead to the world. He moved until he was seating on the bed, drinking her in. She was curled on her right side, arms wrapped around her middle to stave off some of the pain. He noticed the pill bottle on the bedside table and sight. She’d probably aggravated it cleaning.
He’d always had a particular soft sport for Emily, pretty much since she’d proven herself an important and integral member of the team. He was worried about her after they stormed a place, a little more aware of her during brainstorming sessions and briefings and definitely concerned when she got injured. He could remember when she’d been hit across the head and how guilty he felt convincing her to come back to the BAU and the case.
His hand moved without his conscious decision, brushing against her hair and smoothing it back behind her ear. This injury, the idea that he’d almost lost her, had reminded him how very short life could be. And it was a terrifying prospect.
Emily was awake and had been for probably the last 5 minutes. A hand was stroking absently through her hair and she could have sworn she was purring. The painkiller she’d taken after getting off the phone with JJ had knocked her out. She had no idea how long she’d been sleeping.
She opened her eyes slowly, taking in the far away look in Hotch’s eyes as she turned her head. It was odd. He looked like he was contemplating the entire meaning of life. The part that confused and worried her was how focused and fixed that far away look seemed to be on her. “Hotch?”
His eyes didn’t change. She wasn’t sure she wanted to snap him back to full awareness. After all, the hand on her head felt glorious and she wasn’t sure if he was even registering he was doing it. She swallowed thickly. “Aaron.”
He figured the pill would have kept her out for longer, expected that he could have something ready to eat by the time she woke. Apparently he was wrong. “You cleaned up?”
She shivered at his quiet, intimate tone, but smiled playfully. “You, Aaron Hotchner, are a workaholic.”
“A well known fact, Agent Prentiss.”
Emily snorted. “Well proven by the number of files spread across almost every flat surface of this place. Do you leave anything at the office?”
“They’re copies of unsolveds, mostly,” he protested.
“I saw paperwork from your last case down there. And the last couple of cases before…” she had to swallow before continuing, “my attack.”
Hotch noticed, just like he noticed her eyes were squeezed shut. “I was thinking dinner.” When she perked up at the prospect he let out a breath soft enough not to be heard.
“In your kitchen? Yeah right.”
He chuckled, keeping a careful eye on her as she rolled over. His hand immediately followed hers to her stomach when she winced. “I did notice you avoided that.”
Emily shuffled, trying to soothe the ache that had flared up when she’d rolled. Finally, without second guessing herself, she snatched up Hotch’s wrist in one of her own, tugged her shirt up and replaced his hand smack dab on top of her scar. “Reaching,” she volunteered in explanation. “Though I do credit you with at least rinsing them first.”
He was a little stunned. Sure, it was far from the first time he’d let her use his hand as a human water bottle, but it was the first time it had been directly on her skin. It had usually been on top of her pyjama shirt in the hospital. The feeling of bare hand on bare skin was exquisitely different. “Habit.”
The hand directly on her skin affected her in no other way than relief at the moment. “Still, I’m glad.”
“I have a dishwasher,” he pointed out, swallowing with difficulty. The feeling of her skin was arousing, but it was also the first time he’d actually gotten to see her wound. It was ugly and red, like scars were likely to be as they were healing, but it was proof she was still alive.
“Up and down plus putting them away? Aren’t I supposed to keep things relaxed?” she asked wryly, oblivious to his discomfort.
His hand had started to stroke the scar, his eyes drawn to the contrasting angry red against the snow white of her skin. “Um…”
She cocked her head as best she could against the pillow. “Everything okay?” Her hand covered his on her stomach.
“Fine,” he answered absently.
“Aaron?”
Emily looked particularly confused when Hotch refocused his attention on her. “Sorry?”
“Are you okay?” she asked again, this time pushing herself up slightly.
Hotch nodded. “Dinner?”
She didn’t trust his answer and her face showed it. Nevertheless, she didn’t push the issue. “I’m not picky.” Then he went to get up, but Emily held his hand fast. “In a minute. Then you can help me get up.”