Chapter Text
She feels a lump forming in the back of her throat as she presses the gas harder, she isn’t sure why but something inside her eats at her the closer she gets to their apartment There’s something eare in the corridor, tries to reason it’s probably nothing more than her imagination but can’t shake it off. Her hand is itching against her holster the closer she gets to their front door. She can’t help but think how easily she came to consider what, legally at least, was his apartment as theirs. After all, so many of her things were inside, packed carefully in cardboard boxes they haven’t gotten around to unpack quite yet, her clothes are hanging in the closet, her suits carefully hanging next to his, her toothbrush next to his in the bathroom.
She wants to believe he’s face down on the couch snoring the whole room down, or maybe he just woke up, his hair a mess, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips, eyes still a little blurry with sleep as he looks through the messages she has sent him, about twenty in total, but she knows, deep down that it is not the case. She just knows.
Emily tries his phone again, praying that no sound will come from the other side of the door she stands, maybe, just maybe that way she could pretend he was truly asleep. That way she could use her key and enter silently in the apartment, she could sneak into their bedroom, in their bed just like she should have done last night instead of insisting on going back to her mostly empty apartment just so she could pack whatever was left. She could wake him up for a change, pretend just for a moment their day just started.
The sound of his ringtone from the other side of the door crushes her heart, any hope she had that this was nothing but a communication shutdown dies down quickly. She reaches for her gun, her phone placed back in her pocket, the ringing still in her ears as she twists the knob, wishing and praying in a god she is not sure she believes anymore to not find something irreparable on the other side.
The emptiness of the living room was strangling her, her stomach dropping when she looks around,his briefcase discarded on the couch, the hole in the wall right above the bar with the way too expensive scotch Rossi brought as a housewarming gift, the shattered crystal of the intricate glasses she had bought on a whim while on a trip to Sweden the summer before she joined the academy that Aaron took an instant liking to, on the carpet, his gun on the dining room table still in its holster, his phone on the floor just under the table and last the pool of blood, staining the carpet she insisted was a bad idea when they first viewed the apartment, the carpet he promised he’d vacuum himself and even hire professional cleaners to take care of it at least twice a year.
“Aaron!” she knows deep down it’s in vain calling his name, she knows he wouldn’t answer but she tries almost foolishly.
With shaking hands she takes out her phone again, Penelope’s number the first on the list. She hears the other woman’s voice breaking, her emotions allowed to be expressed causes a stabbing pain in her chest, somewhat jealous of her, somewhat angry with herself. She calls Spencer next, the conversation even shorter as she had to try even harder to keep her composure, the smell of blood, of her husband’s blood no less, strong in her nose. She reasures him she’s fine, that she has everything under control and to not worry, even though it’s the farthest from the truth.
The silence that follows when she hangs up the phone is deafening, she feels it in her throat rising alongside the bile. Her feet carry her to the bathroom as she empties her stomach in the bowl in the nick of time. She washes her mouth, the acidic taste lingering in the back of her throat no matter how hard she scrubs her teeth. The tears burn her eyes even though she tries to keep them at bay so she allows herself a moment, she knows the calvary Pen promised would not be too far away.
She barely manages to grip on the sink before her knees completely give out and her eyes blur out with all the tears she has tried so hard to keep at bay spilling out uncontrollably. Throat constricting around a silent scream she wished she could let out.
He promised he’d be careful, he promised he wouldn’t make her a widow before she turns fifty. He couldn’t die, he wasn’t allowed to die, not yet, not until they were old and senile having spent an entire lifetime embarrassing their many kids. Just like they had agreed. They were owed at least that after all the crap they had to hurdle through all those years.
The watch on her wrist, his old watch she has been wearing for over a decade now consistently tells her it’s been fifteen minutes since she entered the bathroom, she can hear some of the sirens slowly coming closer, signaling the end of her time of solace. Soon enough their living room will be filled by crime scene investigators , trampling over the cream carpet, dusting the windows she cleaned last week while Aaron was carrying the bags with their new curtains for prints. She tries not to let it affect her, there are bigger issues she needs to focus on. A hole in the wall, or the stains on the carpet are easy to fix, as long as Aaron is alright, she will scrub the whole place clean by herself if need be.
Emily occupies herself looking through his things, the address book she got him on her first Christmas on the team, she teased him mercilessly when she found he is still in fact using it. She still doesn’t know what sort of madness overcame her when she had his name stamped in gold lettering on the bottom right corner, now her gloved hand touches the letters, she is almost glad she decided to do it, even if he had to lie that it was included in the price to cover for the fact that she had indeed gone over the agreed limit. And soon she is almost able to disassociate with what was truly happening around her. Soon Emily, Aaron’s wife who was terrified out of her mind, was locked neatly in a box and Agent Prentiss, Agent Hotchner’s subordinate and team member was able to take charge. She let the CSIs inside, showed them around the apartment and stayed out of their way as did their job. She even managed to keep her tone completely professional and detached as Penelope called her with the news that she had probably found Aaron, and while she realized that behind it all was none other than George Foyet.
Excusing herself, she exchanged pleasantries with the agent who was in charge of the CSI team, informing her that she needed to leave. It takes all her willpower not to look back when she exits the apartment, but she does it; his car in the parking is harder to ignore, she almost touches the door, wondering if the interior would still smell just a little like him, their house smelling too much of blood and sweat to allow any other smell reaching her nostrils. But again she manages, with some difficulty to stop her hand stopping just short of the black handle as she lets out a breath.
The ride to the hospital is longer than she would have liked. The security looks at her funny when she barges in, she imagines by this point the panic she tried and succeeded to keep at bay has shown in her features. Nurses and doctors pass her by as she walks towards the front desk, the lady there wears deep purple scrubs, there’s a tiny dog stamp on her breast pocket that Emily would find almost endearing in any other situation. But right now, right here there’s nothing endearing, there’s nothing bright and happy she can clutch on.
“Excuse me.” her voice a little lower trying not to break in front of this kind looking stranger, “I’m Agent Prentiss, from the BAU, our technical analyst called about our Unit Chief.”
The woman looks up, she seems to be about fifty, a kind smile on her face, “Yes, our John Doe, dropped off by an Agent Morgan.”
“Yes, him. Where can I find him?”
“He’s on the fourth floor in the surgical ICU, you’ll have to stop by the nurses station, fill out his paperwork first.”
She nods, walking towards the elevators the nurse pointed her to hating every single step she takes, worried sick by what she might find just three floors up. She realizes when the doors close that she didn’t ask anything about his condition, and the nurse didn’t ask her much either. It makes her wonder, considering how much push back she had gotten in New York last year, just how bad did she look?
Her head is spinning, unable to focus on anything other than the flashing lights of the floors. The soft ping pulls her out comes too soon and too slow at the same time. Coming out of the elevator, the first thing she notices is the silence, silence filling the entire space, from the corridors to the rooms and the waiting areas. She was so used to the hustle and bustle of hospitals, the usual sounds of machines and cries, of screams and screeching wheels on linoleum floors, but here, right now, nothing.
The nurses’ desk is to her left, she forces her feet to walk there, almost in a trance. A nurse looks up at her kindly, she looks young, a little too young if Emily’s honest. “Our technical analyst-”
“Don’t worry, they informed us from the front desk. Are you ready?” she gets up, a folder in her arms as she walks around the desk she was sitting, emily realizes the moment the woman’s eyes soften what she asks. “Hope you can give us a name, poor guy will need his family when he wakes up.” the nurse says, the words ring in her head, she knew it was bad, no one could lose the amount of blood she found in their home and be up and running in a day or two. She knows they have a long way ahead.
She stopped praying that this was a joke, she almost had gotten to terms with the reality of what was happening. And yet, the sight that greeted her on the other side of the door took her breath away for a moment. She has seen him injured, she has seen him sick, even in a hospital gown, but none of those prepared her for what she came face to face with. He was paler than she was used to seeing him before, it startled her.
“Is this?”
“Yes.” a sob is quickly rising in her throat, the tears she has tried so hard to keep at bay.
“I will need some information from you ma’am.” With eyes closed tightly, Emily takes a deep breath, slowly releasing it before she nods and follows the nurse out of the room again. She leads her to a small office just behind the main desk, “Please sit” she tells her kindly.
“I’ll need some personal info if you have it, as well as the contact info of his emergency contact and next of kin.” Emily nods.
“His name is Aaron Hotchner, I’m his emergency contact and power of attorney.” she wants to scream she is more than that, yell at the unsuspecting nurse she is his wife dammit but she bites her tongue.
“Date of Birth?”
“November 2nd, 1965”
“Blood type is O negative correct?”
“Yes.”
“Any allergies we should know?” Emily chuckles, “It’s ok if you don’t know we can run the tests.” the nurse adds. It only makes Emily chuckle again.
“Sorry, it’s just a running joke between us that he’s not allergic to probably anything other than cowardice and weak willed men.” it makes the other woman in the room smile, the tension slowly evaporating. “All jokes aside though, he’s only allergic to cinnamon and strawberries, no medicine.”
“Boyfriend?” she asks softly.
“Excuse me?”
“The handsome Agent Hotchner out there, is he your boyfriend or something?”
“Or something.”
The nurse gives her a soft smile, almost sad as she looks up from her papers and down again. “He will need a lot of help in the next few days, whoever did this to him… they did quite a number on him.”
“What’s the extend?” Emily feels her throat closing again. She knew, subconsciously, that what Aaron had experienced was not a walk in the park, but to hear it from a professional… it surely felt worse somehow.
“I cannot tell you that, you’ll have to talk with his doctor , what I can tell you is that he will need time and patience.”
“Thank you”
She is led back towards his room, this time she braces herself for what she is going to see there. The doctor is there this time, she’s looking at his vitals as he is lying just as motionless, lifeless almost as before. “Doctor, this is Agent Prentiss,” the nurse gives the paper with the additional details she provided, “She identified Agent Hotchner here.”
“Thank you nurse.” Emily’s eyes are glued on his sleeping figure, hands itching to reach out and grab his, squeeze his flesh and bones hard enough to convince herself he’s alive. “Agent Prentiss.” The doctor’s voice is soft as it draws her attention from Aaron. “He’s very lucky, he was stabbed nine times in the torso and arms but thankfully no major arteries were hit. Some smaller ones and veins were nicked, as well as his kidney and liver, but thankfully we’ve seem to have repaired the damage. He will need blood though, he lost a great amount during this ordeal”
“I am O negative too, and a registered donor, I can… I can help.” the doctor smiled kindly, her thanks muttered in Emily's ears as her eyes focused more and more on the man in front of her. He has a bruise on his left temple, and she can see some blood on his hair as she pushes a few strands back.
“May I stay?” she asks, eyes stuck on Aaron.
“Of course, he’ll be out of it for a while though.” she pulls the chair closer, waiting until it is only the two of them in the room before she takes his hand in hers. There’s so many things she wants to tell him. She wants to apologize for not going home with him last night, for not asking him to come with her, for not going home earlier, not looking for him first thing in the morning, for not knowing that he was going through such horror. She brings his hand to her lips, his knuckles are slightly bruised, a small cut on one, she kisses each one before she rests her cheek against it thankful that he’s still here, that his hand is warm, that she can still see his chest moving with each breath he takes.
“I’m here now” she whispers against his skin, both hands still clutching his tightly “I love you.”
She waits patiently, watching him breathe as nurses and doctors walk in and out of his room, touching the medicine drip, checking his vitals, leaving a juice box for her on the side table at his legs. She signed already the release of the three bags of blood she had banked in her name, only to learn in her horror that it wasn’t enough to even cover the blood used during the surgery let alone the future transfusions he will need in the next couple days as his body fights to heal itself. She’s scared to ask them just how much blood he had lost. She knows she has banked close to a liter of blood, the thought makes her dizzy, it makes her start picking her nails again, not stopping even when she draws blood.
His chart at the end of the bed mocks her, it holds all the information she wants to know, the answers to the questions she was too afraid to ask, the answers she knew had the potential to completely terrify her. She relents after she sees a nurse hook just another bag to his IV line. For a moment she feels almost normal, LC the two letters mocking them or the past few hours right there in front of her. For just a moment she can help with the case, she can pretend everything is alright, that her life isn’t falling apart just few feet away from her, but then the gunshot tears through her ear and Spencer won’t answer and she’s forced to call for her for her friend, hoping that he will not be the one needing hospital, unable to really handle the thought that both Aaron and Spencer will be in the hospital, both hurt, her unable to assist either of them.
She got a text from JJ not long after telling her Spencer would be fine, just a shot to the leg, nothing that couldn’t be fixed, in her words, her eyes falling back on Aaron’s chart, the things she knew, his age, his weight followed by things she never wanted to associate with him, ever. The 30 minutes next to ‘down time’ set to haunt her for the rest of her life, that for thirty minutes just earlier while she was completely unaware she was essentially a widow.
The fury of calls do not allow her to go find the doctors, she remembers an old girlfriend telling her how fast after a cardiac arrest the brain cells die “Can you believe it Em? Just four minutes.” her beautiful face twisting between horror and excitement. Right now she hates that she still remembers this stupid detail. So she answers the team's questions, as best she can, and tries to ignore the awful twist in her gut for having lied to them for so many hours, even though she knows it was the right thing to do, that after all it was just what they needed in order to do their job successfully. To save a father and a son from a terrible fate.
She walks back to his room, if she could ignore the cannula under his nose and the hundred different electrodes and drains that seemed to be attached to his body, she could, almost, pretend he was asleep.
“He should be waking up soon.” The doctor walks inside again, a small, professional smile on her lips before she walks closer to the monitors, “I will lower the sedative a little more, hopefully he will wake soon.”
“Can I ask you something?” the doctor stops and turns towards her, “Of course Agent.”
“I read in his chart that he was ‘down’ for thirty minutes correct?” the doctor nods, “will that affect his brain activity?”
“Thankfully no.” she smiles, it seems genuine, “Although agent Hotchner did in fact coded and we did have some issues reviving him, he was intubated and CPR was performed, he will be sore, a couple ribs were cracked, but we do not expect any non reversible issues. As soon as he’s awake we will be performing more cognitive tests to make sure.”
She nods, her mind spinning, even more scary details she didn’t want to know swirling around. The team arrives not long after, never before had she felt more thankful for their presence there, their interruption a balm to her troubled heart. She tries, she really does, to pay attention to them, but she finds herself unable, the weight of not only what happened so far this day, but also what is still waiting ahead of them is finally fully catching up with her.
“Agents he’s waking up, remember he’s weak do not push him.” Emily turns her back to the team, entering his room first, she realizes she might be standing too close to be considered polite between supervisor and subordinate but she didn’t really give a damn, she wanted to reach out for his hand, his face, she curses the team for not being just a few minutes late, she could at least be able to give him some comfort as he was waking up.
“Where am I?” he asks, his eyes are still closed, Emily can hear the pain laced in his every word even without seeing his eyes, she hates how unable to help him she is.
“In the hospital” she moves her hand just inches closer, the back of her fingers brushing against his, it seems to be enough to make him open his eyes that he stubbornly kept closed.
“How did I get here?”
Derek’s voice is gruffier than usual when he answers, “Foyet drove you.” Aaron’s hand twitches on the bed, his fingers pressing more against hers for a moment. She contemplates just reaching a few inches and taking his hand in hers. “Can you remember what happened?” she asks, her voice, she knows much softer than she had ever used with him in public, and she knows in any other setting the team would have picked up on it and teased her mercilessly, she imagines they cut her some slack because of the situation they find themselves in.
Aaron seems to not care as much, probably still groggy from the anesthesia, he reaches with his pinky and ring finger, both trying to wrap around her hand. “He was waiting for me at home, when I returned last night.” she hates how vulnerable he sounds, she knows he must hate it too just as much, it gives her the final push to just ignore the looks and comments to come and reach for his hand fully, if only for a moment, just to feel the weight and warmth of his palm against hers.
He asks what the reaper took, he refers to himself as a victim, it feels to Emily as if she was stabbed as well, his words sharp as knives, pierce her already bruised heart. She tells him about the missing page from his address book, she tries to remember the apartment, tries to remember if anything else looked missing, or even out of place, her mind coming up blank. He asks her what he left, she hates that she doesn’t have any answer, she hates it even more that he doesn’t seem to need one from her when he asks for his clothes.
She takes his bloodied shirt in her hands, instantly recognizing it, she had bought it for him from Boston, that fateful morning right before their lives would change forever, she wonders how she hadn’t noticed he was wearing it when they left the dreaded pig farm as she was sitting next to him driving to the airport. The once soft fabric was now torn and stiff from the drying blood.
She sees him taking out Morgan’s credentials, the same ones Foyet had left with him when he dropped him off at the hospital, opening them, her heart drops as it all makes sense. “Hailey’s maiden name is Brooks. I always listed her in the Bs in my personal information in case it fell into the wrong hands. He knows where they live.”
The rest of the team leaves the room, an untold agreement that she would stay behind. As soon as they are away, out of eye and earshot Emily walks back to her chair, pulling it even closer before she reaches over fully, one hand gripping his left hand, his right hand still gripping the picture of Hailey and Jack, she notices the blood as she leans a little closer, her other hand running gently through his hair. He closes his eyes, “He kept me alive to have me see my son die, Em.”
Emily closes her eyes tightly, tears she’s been holding for hours burning with vengeance in her eyes “Please don’t say that Aaron, don’t think like that. The team will get them.” he looks up at her, eyes glassy.
“And then what?”
She doesn’t have an answer she’s willing to tell him, she knows and he knows what comes after, what always happens in situations like this. For a moment she’s thankful he kept his hand in hers, she was worried he might be pulling back, hiding away but at least for now, he seems to be leaning towards the comfort rather than away from it. The hand holding the picture laxes a little, his head falling back pressing against her hand still in his hair and at first it looks as if he is falling back asleep, Emily is ashamed how relieved she feels about it.
But then as soon as the peacefulness started it ended, his heart monitor started screeching as his heartbeat raised, his eyes closed tightly, his face no longer lax but twisting as something deeply unsettling was playing out behind his eyelids.
“What happened?” the doctor asks as she enters the room, Emily tries to move a little back, but is stopped by his hand, tightly gripping hers,
“Agent Hotchner, can you hear me?” he seems to still be a little lost, Emily tightens her hold on his slightly trembling hand. He opens his eyes, quickly looking at her, “I’m okay” he whispers.
His reassurance doesn’t seem to be enough for the doctor as she turns to Emily, stethoscope in hand “I’m gonna need you to step out of the room” Emily tries to leave, his hand keeps holding hers tightly, his pulse raises a bit again and she leans over, her hands falling softly hiding them from the view of the doctor as she whispers in his ear “I’ll be right at the door, Aaron.” her lips touching his bruised temple. He nods slightly before releasing her hand.
She watches as they examine him, his eyes finding hers every once and a while, there’s something, a sorrow, in them that she hasn’t seen before. He looks uncomfortable as the doctor and nurse keep examining him, she knows this is the thing he hates the most about hospitals. She wishes she could walk in and comfort him, her hand finds her abused cuticles as she starts picking them again. She knows he sees her, his hand is twitching almost as if trying to reach for her.
“Well?” she asks the doctor when she walks out.
“Nothing of note, but please do try to keep him calm, we cannot afford to put any more strain on his heart just yet.” she nods and enters his room again, he opens his eyes when he hears her heels on the floor, something resembling a smile on his lips. It looks more like a grimace laced with the pain he tries to hide.
“JJ will call me as soon as they’re at the house.” she sits down on the bed this time, his hand reaching for her thigh gripping tightly.
“Thank you.” She hates that he looks away, she hates that he looks so much like a hurt child instead of the assured man she knows and most of all she hates that she cannot do anything to help him.
“Aaron, look at me.” she cups his cheek, careful not to disturb the cannula under his nose, he looks at her, eyes wide “Never thank me for taking care of our family.”
“Hailey and Jack are-”
“Your family, therefore mine too.” This time his smile seems more genuine, it drops rather quickly but she will count it as a win, keep it close to her heart as a badge of honor.
“You must be regretting saying yes right about now.” he whispers.
“Fat chance, Hotchner. I like my men roughed up.” An honest to god chuckle leaves his lips, and even the groan that follows it isn’t enough to dim the smile on her lips.
His face soon turns somber, “They’ll have to be placed under witness protection.”
“They will.”
“You should too.”
“I am not.”
“I know.”
Her phone rings shattering the silence between them, her denial to follow Hailey and Jack falling heavy between them. She has to admit, she would have asked the same thing of him, he would react the same way.
“They’re safe, we got them both” JJ says, she can hear the commotion in the back, slightly muffled she assumes by a closed door. “Thank you, JJ.” Aaron looks at her, eyes wide, his grip on her thigh even tighter, bruising surely the skin beneath her pants. “They’re safe.” he breathes out, the relief washing his face seems to be the first emotion to be lingering the whole day. His grip loosens as his thumb starts to circle the bruised skin.
“I’m making a bag for Jack. Hailey is with him and Rossi. He is letting her know of… well everything.” Emily bites her lip.
“You should pack Roger too.” Emily tells her, her eyes locking with Aaron’s as he smiles thinking of the stuffed crocodile she won for Jack at the amusement park they took him to a couple months back.
“Roger?” JJ asks, confusion lacing her voice. Emily closes her eyes, mentally cursing herself for her slip up. “Stuffed crocodile, green with some yellowish scales, Hotch says it’s his favorite.”
“Oh, yeah I see him, he’s tucked in bed. I’ll send you a picture. It's really cute.”
“Thanks, when are you guys coming back?”
“Um…” JJ pauses, Emily can imagine she calculates how much packing she has left “I’d say in like forty minutes tops.”
“Great, we’ll see you here.”
“Well?” he asks, his hand freezing on her thigh.
“Forty minutes, give or take.”
They sit in silence for some time, she wants to ask so many things to reassure him, but she can’t, the words refuse to leave her lips, no matter how hard she might try. Aaron doesn’t seem to mind though, he seems content to simply lie there, quite motionless, she imagines from the pain and medication coursing through his system, save for the hand on her thigh, his eyes occasionally closing for a minute or two before opening slight panic reflecting for a while, before calming once again. She asks him if he wants to talk about it, for a moment hopeful that their proximity would prompt him to tell her the truth. Emily is not surprised at his blatant lie, she almost expected it, but it still hurt.
The text from JJ that they are outside startles her, she gets up from the bed, leans over to press a kiss to his bruised temple before walking to the door just in time to greet Hailey. She smiles, the blond woman the only other than the two of them and maybe Dave that knows of hers and Aaron’s relationship, probably marriage too given that they weren’t as careful around Jack and the little boy could not keep a secret if he tried. The hand on her shoulder meant to reassure her, but her grip was anything but reassuring, fingers trembling as she removed them.
Still Emily Prentiss is nothing if not a good actress, she keeps her head high, plastering a big smile as she walks to the waiting room she can see the team is in. Jack leaning against Dave as everyone around him seems to give him their undivided attention. His little face lights up when he sees her entering the room, jumping from his seat next to Dave as his little feet carry him to her, his “Emmy” bright and unabashedly happy.
She picks him up, little hands wrapping around her neck, knees brushing against her sides as she pulls him closer she can hear him trying not to cry, she knows she is not helping by holding him but she cannot bring herself to let go, not when she doesn’t know when she will see him again. After a couple minutes she relents, walks them both to a chair close enough for the team to see them and hear them if they want them to but far enough to be able to conceal their words if need be.
“Is daddy ok Emmy?” he asks, lip trembling, his face resembling so much Aaron’s she feels the tears come back with a vengeance.
“He is hurt, Jack-Jack. And when you see him he will look a little bit ill, and you will have to be very gentle with him especially when you hug him.” she sees the confusion in his eyes, the innocent only a child could possess reflecting there.
“But daddy never gets hurt.” it breaks her heart just a little bit more when she sees him. She feels so inadequate to be explaining something so complex to him, but she tries, she plasters a smile she hopes looks reassuring on her lips and tries.
“Sometimes he does, we all do, remember when you fell off your bike last month and hurt your knee?” he nods his head.
“Daddy kissed it better and we had ice cream!” She's never been more thankful that Jack didn’t specify who the ‘we’ in his story was.
“Well, daddy got a little more hurt than that, which is why he needs to be here in the hospital.”
“We should kiss it better then!” she smiles.
“You definitely should Jack-Jack.” Jack seems pleased by her answer as he throws his little body with much force on her, hugging her tightly. Only letting go when Hailey walks back in the room, telling him with much fake delight that ‘Daddy wanted to see him so much.’ One look over Jack’s head telling Emily just how much Aaron was dreading having Jack see him like that.
The room falls silent once more, she can feel eyes on her. The team's eyes. Dave, like always had the annoying knowing smirk on his lips, the one she has learned to live with by now. JJ, looked at her with a sympathetic look on her face, sadness lacing through her soft features. It’s nothing she didn’t expect. Derek on the other hand looks at her suspiciously, it’s intense and unnerving. She knows he wants to say something, he probably wants to say a lot, but thankfully he doesn’t.
They say goodbye to Hailey and Jack, a tight hug to the little boy and another just as tight to his mother and they are gone. They stand in the hallway with big windows overlooking the driveway, watching the mother and son duo get in a car, a faint wave just seconds before they disappear from view.
She’s thankful Morgan’s face is back to the one she came to know and trust, she’s thankful Reid, just down the corridor will be alright, but most of all she’s thankful this day is finally coming to an end. They promise each other that they will fight Foyet’s plan, they promise taking a silent oath to each other that they will end this, and for a moment she believes it. It won’t matter how hard it might be, how long it might take but they will win this fight. They will bring down George Foyet even if it is the last thing they will do.
“You should go home, Em.” JJ’s voice is soft, kind, Emily hates it right now. How could she tell her to just go home, how could she believe she would be able to leave her husband right now alone. But then she soon realizes that to JJ he is not.
“I just have to go arrange for a blood donation for tomorrow and I will. You guys should too.” she is not really lying, she justifies it to herself like that.
“Blood donation, why?” Derek asks.
“Yeah, apparently Hotch and I have the same blood type, he needed some blood for the surgery and after, I had a few bags stored in case of an emergency. You know.” she takes a deep breath, plastering a very clear fake smile on her lips “The joys of being O negative I guess.”
“Yeah, how many bags Hotch needed?”
“Too many. Far too many Morgan.”