section-chief-prentiss

[section-chief-prentiss]

Happy Birthday Kelsey!! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧.

[section-chief-prentiss]

instead of sleeping i’m up wondering if emily ever visited her own grave, cause there’s the scene where they take the photo down but i can’t stop wondering if she was there when the grave got removed (i’m assuming they did remove it).

[section-chief-prentiss]

criminal minds pairings+my notes app

[section-chief-prentiss]

emily: communication is key but you go first

[section-chief-prentiss]

Midnights: Frozen

CHAPTER TWO: Frozen

Summary: A collection of one-shots of sleepless nights between you and Emily. 

Chapter Summary: You experience sleep paralysis and Emily comforts you. 

Pairing: Emily Prentiss/Reader 

Word Count: 1837

TWs: nightmares, sleep paralysis, comfort 

Ao3

The first time you experienced sleep paralysis was just over a year ago. 

Your girlfriend, Emily, had just been killed in the line of duty by a criminal from her past, Ian Doyle—or so you thought. 

Seven months later, it was revealed that she’d gone into hiding for her own safety, but she was alive. You felt every emotion possible—relief, pain, anger, joy—but after the initial shock, you picked up right where you’d left off, and Emily had been living with you ever since. You were sure that now that she was back and at your side every night, the sleep paralysis would go away.

Only it hadn’t.

You didn’t tell Emily at first. You didn’t want her to worry or feel more guilty than she already did. So when you opened your eyes and found yourself paralyzed, every atom in your body feeling impossibly heavy, and the man from your nightmares lingering in the corner, raising your heart rate, until he started moving forward to kill you, you fought to keep silent.

The third time it happened, you couldn’t contain the whimpering sound you made, and Emily woke up to find you paralyzed. She tried asking how she could help, but you couldn’t answer. What Emily claimed was only minutes later, but felt like hours to you, you regained control of your body and confessed that this wasn’t the first time.

Emily was horrified and asked if you’d talked to a doctor about it. You had, but the medications he’d prescribed made your symptoms worse, so you’d stopped taking them.

The next morning, Emily was searching for anything she could find about how to help someone with sleep paralysis. That night, when you got into bed, she was ready.

“Do you know why sleep paralysis happens?” Emily asked.

You shook your head. You’d worried that looking into it would make it worse.

“When we sleep, our body undergoes partial paralysis so we don’t act out our dreams; it keeps us from getting up and walking around or talking in our sleep. Sleep paralysis happens when we’re between sleep stages, so your brain is awake, but your body is still in REM sleep, which is why you can’t move.” 

You smiled. “You sound like Reid.”

Emily playfully rolled her eyes. “I may have consulted with him. For some people, if a partner talks to them, taps their shoulder, or even shakes them, it can wake them from sleep paralysis. So the next time it happens, try to make whatever noise you can, and when I wake up, I can wake you up.”

You sighed. “I don’t want to wake you up every time this happens. I can handle it.”

Emily took your hand. “This started happening to you after I left. When this wakes you up, I want you to wake me up. You don’t have to do this by yourself.” 

Your throat tightened, and you nodded. 

“If you can’t make noise, I read that you should try to move your fingers or toes—anything you can. And it helps to focus on your breathing. The faster you can slow your heart rate, the sooner you’ll come out of it.”

You committed that information to memory—you could manage that, you thought. 

“I love you,” you said, leaning forward to kiss your girlfriend. 

“I love you,” she said between kisses.

You both lay down, trying to find a comfortable position. You rolled away from Emily, but moments later, she had an arm wrapped around you and was snuggled up behind you. You nestled into her, feeling perfectly content. 

You drifted off to sleep not long after.

***

You woke up on your back, suffocated by an all-too-familiar feeling.

At some point in the night, Emily had rolled to the other side of the bed, and you’d ended up on your back. As soon as you opened your eyes, you knew you shouldn’t have.

Your bedroom was cloaked in darkness; as far as you could tell, there was no light peeking through the edges of the blackout curtains over the windows, so it must have been pretty early in the morning. You could make out the faint snoring of Emily to your left, but no matter how hard you willed your head to turn, it wouldn’t.

Your arms lay straight against your sides, palms facing down and resting on top of your duvet. Your racing heart sped up even more when you caught a presence in the corner of your eye.

You thought of Emily’s advice—move your fingers or toes, steady your breathing—and tried to do so. You put all of your focus into moving your big toe or pointer finger, but neither budged. And in front of you, the figure was coming into focus.

A tall, white man with graying, shaggy hair and an unkempt beard. He was dressed in all black, as he had been the last time you’d seen him. His blue eyes were piercing even through the darkness.

Ian Doyle.

He’s dead, you reminded yourself. You saw it happen. He couldn’t hurt Emily anymore. This was just a hallucination from the sleep paralysis.

But, God, it felt so real.

Now at the edge of your bed, Ian stared down at you with a cryptic smile. “Hello, love,” he said, before turning to sleeping Emily. “Lauren.”

You wished you could cringe away, close your eyes again, do something to protect yourself, but every muscle in your body was frozen. 

The only thing left for you to try was to make any sort of noise. Fortunately, that was easy when you were afraid. A whimper bubbled out of your mouth, and you hoped it would be enough to wake Emily.

Next to you, your girlfriend stirred but didn’t wake, so you made the noise again. In an instant, Emily lurched awake and turned her attention to you.

“Y/N?” she said, grogginess thick in her voice. “Can you move?”

Your lack of response was answer enough.

“I’m gonna touch you, okay?” she asked.

At the foot of the bed, Ian’s smile widened.

Even in death, you’re a creep, you thought.

You felt faint pressure on your arms, but it wasn’t enough to pull you from this episode. When Emily saw it wasn’t working, she resorted to taking your shoulders in her hands and shaking you, but that didn’t free you, either.

“Okay,” Emily said, sitting up next to you. “The research said that might not work. But it also said this will only last a few minutes, so I’m just going to talk until you come out of it.”

Your heart ached with how much you loved this woman.

“Oh, please, Lauren,” Ian said, walking toward her side of the bed. You could just make out his movements from the corner of your eye. “I’d love to hear what you have to say.”

The calming effect Emily had on you vanished in an instant, and your heart thumped with fear all over again. The closer he got to Emily, the more you wanted to scream. 

“I would love to finish what I started,” he whispered, leaning toward the woman you loved. 

You whimpered again, and Emily took your hand in hers. 

“Whatever you’re seeing right now isn’t real, I promise,” she said. “I know it looks real, maybe even sounds real. But we’re the only two people in this room. I won’t let anyone or anything touch you.”

It wasn’t you that you were worried about, but you had no way of telling her that. 

“On second thought,” Ian said, making his way back toward you. “It would be far more satisfying to watch Emily,” he spit out her name like it was dirt on his tongue. “Watch you suffer before I ended her.”

“I love you,” Emily said, reaching up to stroke your hair. “This will be over soon, I promise.”

The double entendre that she didn’t know she was speaking sent a chill down your spine. 

Ian stood directly above you now, somehow holding the wooden stake he’d impaled Emily with all those months ago. 

“I’ll be quick,” he taunted. “Though I can’t say I’ll give your girlfriend the same treatment.”

He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Not that you’ll be around to watch.”

He plunged the wooden stake toward your heart, and you sat straight up with a gasp. You blinked furiously and saw that, sure enough, you were the only two in the room.

You closed your eyes as hard as you could. Ian is gone, you repeated like a mantra. Ian is dead. 

“Love?” Emily said, reaching for you.

You opened your eyes and pulled your knees into your chest, grateful for the ability to move at all, and rested your chin on your legs. 

“Breathe, honey,” Emily said, demonstrating slow, deep breaths. You hadn’t realized how shallow your breathing had become until you joined her and felt your lungs fill with air.

Once your breathing settled, you stretched out your legs but remained sitting up; you weren’t ready to risk falling back asleep yet.

“You never told me what it is you see,” Emily said, rubbing circles on your back. “If you want to talk about it, you can tell me.”

You swallowed. “It’s not easy to talk about,” you whispered.

She nodded. “I understand. The offer stands, if you change your mind.”

Silence cloaked the room for a few moments, and you felt her watching you, waiting to see if you would fall apart. But you felt stable, now that you were alert and in control again. 

So you sighed and nodded. “It’s Ian. It’s always Ian.”

Emily’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

“When you were gone, I saw him killing you over and over again. And once you came back…” you shuddered. “Sometimes I’d hallucinate him coming for you all over again. This time, he came for me.”

Emily wrapped her arms around you, and you fell into her embrace, breathing in her soft scent.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, not for the first time since she’d returned, and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last.

You shook your head. “I don’t want you to apologize. I don’t blame you; I blame Ian. And he’s dead and can’t hurt anyone anymore. I just need to work through that a little more, I think.”

Emily hesitated. “You know… Hotch has had me seeing a counselor since I came back. I could get some recommendations from her for you, if you’d like.”

You’d talked to your primary doctor about your sleeping problems, but you hadn’t considered the idea of therapy before. 

“Think about it,” Emily said quickly. “No pressure. I just want you to know your options.”

You nuzzled against her and hummed. “I think it’s a good idea.”

“Good,” Emily said, and you could hear her smiling. “I’ll call her in the morning. Do you want to stay up a little longer or go back to sleep?”

You closed your eyes, feeling perfectly content. “I’m good right here for a while.”

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Stained Glass Windows - Chapter Sixty Eight

Life was complicated, but they wouldn't have it any other way.

-x-

Hi besties <3

As always, the love for this version of them means the entire world. Sorry for the delay in this chapter - my brain wasn't working for the multi chapters whilst it was being melted by the mumps, but I am on the mend so here we are.

Cannot believe we are close to 70 chapters on this. I still have a lot to do with this version of these two, so as I've said before as long as you guys read and still enjoy this I will keep writing it.

As always, please let me know what you think - feedback means the world <3

-x-

Words: 3k

A full list of warnings for the fic can be found on the Series Master List.

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“Son of a bitch,” Emily grunts as she lowers herself onto the couch, her hand pressing against her immobilised shoulder as it’s jostled as she sits down sending pain through her upper body. 

Aaron drops the bags in the hallway, his body tensing as she calls out in pain. He rushes into the living room, his eyebrows furrowing as he looks at her, walking over his hands on his hips as he approaches the couch, “Are you okay, sweetheart?” 

She smiles as she looks up at him, releasing a slow breath as the pain dissipates. He looked like he hadn’t slept since he left Pakistan. He’d barely left her side in the hospital, his hand wrapped tightly around hers as she slept fitfully through the one night the doctors had insisted she’d stayed. He was bordering on coddling her, but she knew he needed this. That looking after her was a way of trying to alleviate any guilt he felt for leaving in the first place. 

It was a conversation for another day, something she’d raise with him when she was feeling better and he didn’t look like he was going to collapse at any moment. 

“I’m okay,” she assures him, her hand slipping from her shoulder to her lap, “Is JJ on her way with Lily?” 

He nods and sits next to her on her good side, making sure he’s careful so he doesn’t jolt her, “I called just before we left the hospital.” 

Emily sighs, resting her head back on the back of the couch, her eyes drifting closed as she thinks about seeing her little girl. It felt much longer than the one day it had been since she’d seen her, a hollow feeling in her chest that only holding Lily would fill,  “Good. I missed her.” 

He smiles sadly as he looks at her profile, his eyes drifting over the features he’d memorised a long time ago, the ones she’d passed on to their daughter and that he hoped she’d pass on to any future children they’d have. “I missed her too.” 

She turns her head to look at him, smiling sadly as their eyes meet. She feels guilt rush over her, pulling her under as she reaches over with her good hand and curls it around his. It was a feeling she’d started to forget. She’d lay in their bed at night unable to sleep and desperately try to remember the feeling of his hand in hers, his fingers slotted between hers, the spaces the perfect size as if they’d been made for each other. She tries to memorise it again, and tries to make sure she doesn’t take it for granted. 

“I’m sorry,” she says, lifting their joining hands to kiss his knuckles, “I can’t imagine…” she drifts off, not sure how to put it into words. She missed Lily after one day, she couldn’t put herself in his shoes - couldn’t imagine how she would feel if she’d been the one who had been gone for as long as he had. 

“It’s not your fault sweetheart,” he says, leaning in to stamp a kiss to her cheek, taking the time to breathe her in, “I’m the one that agreed to go.” 

She hums in response and they fall into silence, the usual peace they both found in their home tinged with an awkwardness she hates. She rests her head on his shoulder and smiles to herself when he rests his cheek on top of her head, an automatic reaction to her affection, something they’d done countless times. 

“You know what’s a shame?” She asks, looking down at their joint hands, watching as he runs his thumb back and forth over the heel of her hand. It was something else she’d missed, the subtle kind of affection she’d lived without the first 37 years of her life but had become too used to the last three. She already knew that she didn’t want him to do something like this again, she hadn’t truly wanted him to this time, but she also knew how important his job was. 

That was another conversation they’d have to have another day, one of many that seemed to be piling up somewhere in the back of her mind. Including the job offer to lead the Counterterrorism unit that she hadn’t mentioned to him yet.

“What?” He asks, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, enjoying the closeness he’d been deprived of for weeks.

“If I’d been t-boned by that jackass just five days earlier you would have been here for our wedding anniversary.” 

It takes a moment for him to realise what she’s said, and a laugh of disbelief escapes him as he pulls back to look at her, his brows creased as he shakes his head, “Em.”

She laughs, the sound turning into a groan as it makes her shoulder ache, “Sorry,” she says, sounding anything but, “Too soon?” 

“Yes,” he replies quickly, shaking his head at her. The air briefly stolen from his lungs as he remembers the call he’d received from JJ, the panic that had taken residence in his chest and hadn’t gone anywhere until he’d made it to his wife’s side. He breathes in deeply, sucking in hair and the peace only she could give him, and he blows it back out, choking on another laugh as he carries on, “Too soon,” he confirms, shaking his head as she presses her lips together, a half attempt at an apologetic smile flitting across her face, “I am sorry about our anniversary.” 

She shrugs her working shoulder and sighs sadly. She can’t say that it’s okay, that she hadn’t missed him. She’d spent their anniversary with just Lily, a quiet evening pacing around the nursery as she soothed her teething baby. Haley had sent her an anniversary card with Jack the next day, an understanding smile on her face as she passed it over. 

“When my shoulder is better we’ll make up for it,” she says, cupping his cheek, enjoying the scrape of his beard against her skin, “We’ll be making up for a lot of lost time.” 

He smiles and leans in to kiss her, taking the opportunity to sweep his tongue through her mouth, capturing the contented sigh she sets free. When he pulls back he rests his forehead against hers, “I’m looking forward to it.” 

___

Emily tries to get up the moment she hears Lily crying from the nursery, ready to get off of the couch to go upstairs and get her, but Aaron stops her, his hand on her thigh as he squeezes.

“I’ll get her,” he says, pressing a kiss against her temple, “You stay here.” 

She opens her mouth to argue with him, but she stops herself, knowing he needs time with Lily, that she has to get used to sharing the load with him again. She also knew since her shoulder was immobilised, and therefore her arm, she wouldn’t be able to lift her baby up from the crib by herself anyway

“Okay,” she says, smiling at him, “Bring me my baby.” 

He winks at her, “Yes ma’am.” 

He walks upstairs, following the sounds of his daughter’s cries, and he smiles at her as he walks into the room. She was standing up, holding onto the edge of the crib, something she couldn’t do before he left, her face screwed as she cries. He knew in the grand scheme of things that it hadn’t been that long, but he couldn’t believe how much she’d grown. She was bigger, her hair longer, her face impossibly more like Emily’s - something he hadn’t thought was possible - and even more of her personality had started to develop. 

“What's this all about, Lily-Pad?” He asks soothingly as he walks over, lifting her into his arms. She shakes her head and tries to wriggle out of his embrace, her tiny hands pressed against his chest, something that makes him chuckle at first as he balances her on his hip, “I know sweetheart, you want Mama. But she’s got a bad shoulder so you’ll have to put up with me doing all the heavy lifting for a little while.” 

Lily grumbles as if she understands him, a frown on her face that would rival his own, every bit as adorable as it always had been on her sweet face. 

He couldn’t deny that it hurt that since she’d come home that morning she’d resisted it every time he’d picked her up to feed her or change her diaper. She’d looked at Emily each time, her eyebrows furrowed as she reached out for her, making noises so close to actual words it made him ache. He knew it was natural, that Emily had been her only caretaker for the last couple of months, that the little girl had got used to how life looked without him, but it didn’t make it any less difficult to take. Lily had always been all about Emily, ever since the moment he’d first handed her to her, but she’d never resisted him before. 

“Mama.” 

He snaps out of his thoughts at the sound of her voice, at the first clear word he’d ever heard her say. He looks at her, a disbelieving laugh escaping his chest as he holds his little girl closer.

“What did you just say Lils? Did you say, Mama?” 

There’s a moment of silence, a brief pause as she furrows her brow before she says it again, wriggling in his arms again, “Mama.” 

He kisses the side of her head and walks out of the nursery, moving quicker than he thought he ever had in his life. He gets to the living room in record time with Lily in his arms, surprising Emily with his speed. Her eyes go wide, panic flaring in her chest as she looks over their daughter to make sure there is nothing wrong.

“Aaron, is she okay-”

“She’s fine,” he says, sitting on the couch next to her, sitting Lily on his lap, securing her to him with one arm as he points at Emily, “Who’s that Lily?”

Emily frowns as she looks back and forth between the two of them, the room falling into silence as Aaron looks at their baby girl expectantly, “Honey, what-”

“Lily,” he says, cutting Emily off with a smile, holding her close, “Who’s that? Is that Mama?” 

There’s another pause, another beat of silence, and Emily is about to roll her eyes at her husband and his strange behaviour when Lily reaches out for her. 

“Mama.” 

She gasps and puts her hand over her mouth, joy filling her lungs so quickly she chokes on the laugh that escapes her, “Did she just…” she asks, looking up at Aaron, smiling when she sees tears shining in his eyes before she looks at Lily, “Did you just say, Mama?”

“Mama,” Lily says again, frowning as she reaches for her again, her hands forming into fists as she tries to get out of Aaron’s embrace, clearly confused as to why she wasn’t in her mother’s arms. 

“She said it upstairs,” Aaron explains, handing over the little girl gently, making sure that she’s settled against Emily’s good side, “She was so fed up with seeing me she decided to say it for the first time.”

Emily chuckles and holds Lily close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as tears slip free from her lash line, “I love you so much, sweet girl,” she says, kissing her again, “I love you so much.” 

“She loves you too,” Aaron says, reaching out and wiping the tears from her cheeks since she couldn’t, her only available arm holding Lily to her chest. He sighs contentedly and wraps his arm around her, holding both of his girls in his arms, “I can’t wait to hear her say Dada.” 

Emily freezes briefly, a quick thing he thankfully misses as he tickles Lily’s stomach, drawing out her sweet laugh. Guilt burns her from the inside out, making her cheeks warm as she thinks of the secret she is keeping from her husband. She shakes it off, hoping she was making the right decision by protecting him from one of the things he’d missed. She looks up at him and smiles, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“Me neither.”

___

She yawns as she walks into the master bedroom, exhausted even though she hasn’t done anything all day except sit on the couch and let Aaron look after her. She smiles as she finds him dressed in his pjyamas, rooting through the large linen closet in the corner of their room. 

“Are you remaking the bed?” She asks, rubbing at her eyes with her good hand, “Before you do that can you help me change?” She says, sitting on the edge of the bed, suppressing another yawn, “I’d like to say I can do it myself but we both know I’d struggle and then you’d have to help me anyway.” 

Aaron chuckles and walks over, pressing a kiss to her forehead before he guides her to stand up, reaching for the zipper of the sweater he’d put on over her immobiliser that morning when they left the hospital. He lets it drop to the floor and starts to undo the velcro of the immobiliser so he can take off the clothes underneath. 

“I was looking for that blanket I like,” he explains, careful as he eases her arm down to her side, apologising softly when she winces at the pull in her shoulder, “I thought I’d sleep under it in the spare room so we don’t have to change the bedding in there when I’m done.” 

She looks up at him so sharply, and moves so quickly that pain spreads through her shoulder and down her arm, “Fuck.” 

“Easy, sweetheart,” he says, placing his hand on her shoulder to steady it, to provide support until the pain subsides, “You’re okay.”

She breathes through it until it passes, blinking until her vision is no longer blurry as her breathing slows. She looks up at him, her eyebrows furrowed, “Why…why are you sleeping in the spare room?” 

He sighs and slowly removes his hand from her shoulder before he goes for the hem of her shirt and lets her lift her good arm out of it before he helps her with the injured one. 

“You’re in pain, Em. You have to sleep with that damn thing on,” he says, nodding towards the immobiliser on the bed, “You need the room.” 

She feels a surge of anger she knows he doesn’t deserve that she has to swallow back, taking a moment to blow out a breath so she can react more accordingly, “What I need is my husband sleeping next to me.” 

He sighs, his hands soft and gentle on her bare waist, “Em-”

“No,” she says, firmer this time, “You just spent two months sleeping on the other side of the world. I won’t have you sleeping in the next room when you’re this close. I…” she shakes her head and presses her lips together, “I won’t. You need to sleep in here with me, okay?” 

He stares at her, their eyes locked as he feels himself lose his resolve. He’d never been able to say no to her, not really, and he wasn’t going to start now. Not when it was what he wanted to do too.

“Okay.”

She sighs in relief, “Okay?”

He smiles and nods, leaning in to stamp a kiss against her lips, “Okay.” 

He continues to help her get ready for bed, unhooking her bra and slipping it off before he puts one of his t-shirts over her head. He reaches for the immobiliser but she stops him, her good hand on his arm. 

“Wait,” she says, smiling as she steps a little closer until they are chest to chest, “Hug me.” 

“What? Em-”

“You haven’t hugged me properly since you got back, and I know my shoulder is still fucked up, but I just want you to hug me. No immobiliser, no side hug. Just you and me.” 

He wraps his arms around her, not waiting for her to ask again, and he gently pulls her closer, careful not to hurt her. She wraps her good arm around him and her palm rests on his back as she sinks into him, her face pressed into his chest as he rests his cheek on top of her head. 

“I love you, sweetheart,” he says, stamping a kiss against her hair as he takes the opportunity to hold her this close, something he'd imagined every night since he’d last seen her. 

“I love you too,” she says, kissing his chest through his shirt, her lips catching on what she knew was his thickest scar, “I love you so much.” 

They stand like that, wrapped up in an embrace that isn’t fierce enough for either of them but one that would do for now until he pulls back and cups her cheek, his smile soft. Something just for her and their family. 

“Come on,” he says, “We’ll get this back on you and then I’ll go get you some ice cream before I join you in bed. Jack will be here bright and early.” 

She smiles and nods, already feeling cold when he steps away from her, his warmth something she had been chasing since he left, “He’ll be so excited to see you.” 

“I’m excited to see him too,” he says, smiling as he straps her arm to her chest, “He was surprised when I called him earlier.” 

She hums and runs her fingers through his hair, a wistful smile on her face, “He missed his Daddy. We all did.” 

He wraps his arm around her again and kisses her forehead, his chest aching for all he’d missed, all the things he’s sure he didn’t even know about yet. 

“I missed all of you too.” 

-x-

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[section-chief-prentiss]

Midnights: Frozen

CHAPTER TWO: Frozen

Summary: A collection of one-shots of sleepless nights between you and Emily. 

Chapter Summary: You experience sleep paralysis and Emily comforts you. 

Pairing: Emily Prentiss/Reader 

Word Count: 1837

TWs: nightmares, sleep paralysis, comfort 

Ao3

The first time you experienced sleep paralysis was just over a year ago. 

Your girlfriend, Emily, had just been killed in the line of duty by a criminal from her past, Ian Doyle—or so you thought. 

Seven months later, it was revealed that she’d gone into hiding for her own safety, but she was alive. You felt every emotion possible—relief, pain, anger, joy—but after the initial shock, you picked up right where you’d left off, and Emily had been living with you ever since. You were sure that now that she was back and at your side every night, the sleep paralysis would go away.

Only it hadn’t.

You didn’t tell Emily at first. You didn’t want her to worry or feel more guilty than she already did. So when you opened your eyes and found yourself paralyzed, every atom in your body feeling impossibly heavy, and the man from your nightmares lingering in the corner, raising your heart rate, until he started moving forward to kill you, you fought to keep silent.

The third time it happened, you couldn’t contain the whimpering sound you made, and Emily woke up to find you paralyzed. She tried asking how she could help, but you couldn’t answer. What Emily claimed was only minutes later, but felt like hours to you, you regained control of your body and confessed that this wasn’t the first time.

Emily was horrified and asked if you’d talked to a doctor about it. You had, but the medications he’d prescribed made your symptoms worse, so you’d stopped taking them.

The next morning, Emily was searching for anything she could find about how to help someone with sleep paralysis. That night, when you got into bed, she was ready.

“Do you know why sleep paralysis happens?” Emily asked.

You shook your head. You’d worried that looking into it would make it worse.

“When we sleep, our body undergoes partial paralysis so we don’t act out our dreams; it keeps us from getting up and walking around or talking in our sleep. Sleep paralysis happens when we’re between sleep stages, so your brain is awake, but your body is still in REM sleep, which is why you can’t move.” 

You smiled. “You sound like Reid.”

Emily playfully rolled her eyes. “I may have consulted with him. For some people, if a partner talks to them, taps their shoulder, or even shakes them, it can wake them from sleep paralysis. So the next time it happens, try to make whatever noise you can, and when I wake up, I can wake you up.”

You sighed. “I don’t want to wake you up every time this happens. I can handle it.”

Emily took your hand. “This started happening to you after I left. When this wakes you up, I want you to wake me up. You don’t have to do this by yourself.” 

Your throat tightened, and you nodded. 

“If you can’t make noise, I read that you should try to move your fingers or toes—anything you can. And it helps to focus on your breathing. The faster you can slow your heart rate, the sooner you’ll come out of it.”

You committed that information to memory—you could manage that, you thought. 

“I love you,” you said, leaning forward to kiss your girlfriend. 

“I love you,” she said between kisses.

You both lay down, trying to find a comfortable position. You rolled away from Emily, but moments later, she had an arm wrapped around you and was snuggled up behind you. You nestled into her, feeling perfectly content. 

You drifted off to sleep not long after.

***

You woke up on your back, suffocated by an all-too-familiar feeling.

At some point in the night, Emily had rolled to the other side of the bed, and you’d ended up on your back. As soon as you opened your eyes, you knew you shouldn’t have.

Your bedroom was cloaked in darkness; as far as you could tell, there was no light peeking through the edges of the blackout curtains over the windows, so it must have been pretty early in the morning. You could make out the faint snoring of Emily to your left, but no matter how hard you willed your head to turn, it wouldn’t.

Your arms lay straight against your sides, palms facing down and resting on top of your duvet. Your racing heart sped up even more when you caught a presence in the corner of your eye.

You thought of Emily’s advice—move your fingers or toes, steady your breathing—and tried to do so. You put all of your focus into moving your big toe or pointer finger, but neither budged. And in front of you, the figure was coming into focus.

A tall, white man with graying, shaggy hair and an unkempt beard. He was dressed in all black, as he had been the last time you’d seen him. His blue eyes were piercing even through the darkness.

Ian Doyle.

He’s dead, you reminded yourself. You saw it happen. He couldn’t hurt Emily anymore. This was just a hallucination from the sleep paralysis.

But, God, it felt so real.

Now at the edge of your bed, Ian stared down at you with a cryptic smile. “Hello, love,” he said, before turning to sleeping Emily. “Lauren.”

You wished you could cringe away, close your eyes again, do something to protect yourself, but every muscle in your body was frozen. 

The only thing left for you to try was to make any sort of noise. Fortunately, that was easy when you were afraid. A whimper bubbled out of your mouth, and you hoped it would be enough to wake Emily.

Next to you, your girlfriend stirred but didn’t wake, so you made the noise again. In an instant, Emily lurched awake and turned her attention to you.

“Y/N?” she said, grogginess thick in her voice. “Can you move?”

Your lack of response was answer enough.

“I’m gonna touch you, okay?” she asked.

At the foot of the bed, Ian’s smile widened.

Even in death, you’re a creep, you thought.

You felt faint pressure on your arms, but it wasn’t enough to pull you from this episode. When Emily saw it wasn’t working, she resorted to taking your shoulders in her hands and shaking you, but that didn’t free you, either.

“Okay,” Emily said, sitting up next to you. “The research said that might not work. But it also said this will only last a few minutes, so I’m just going to talk until you come out of it.”

Your heart ached with how much you loved this woman.

“Oh, please, Lauren,” Ian said, walking toward her side of the bed. You could just make out his movements from the corner of your eye. “I’d love to hear what you have to say.”

The calming effect Emily had on you vanished in an instant, and your heart thumped with fear all over again. The closer he got to Emily, the more you wanted to scream. 

“I would love to finish what I started,” he whispered, leaning toward the woman you loved. 

You whimpered again, and Emily took your hand in hers. 

“Whatever you’re seeing right now isn’t real, I promise,” she said. “I know it looks real, maybe even sounds real. But we’re the only two people in this room. I won’t let anyone or anything touch you.”

It wasn’t you that you were worried about, but you had no way of telling her that. 

“On second thought,” Ian said, making his way back toward you. “It would be far more satisfying to watch Emily,” he spit out her name like it was dirt on his tongue. “Watch you suffer before I ended her.”

“I love you,” Emily said, reaching up to stroke your hair. “This will be over soon, I promise.”

The double entendre that she didn’t know she was speaking sent a chill down your spine. 

Ian stood directly above you now, somehow holding the wooden stake he’d impaled Emily with all those months ago. 

“I’ll be quick,” he taunted. “Though I can’t say I’ll give your girlfriend the same treatment.”

He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Not that you’ll be around to watch.”

He plunged the wooden stake toward your heart, and you sat straight up with a gasp. You blinked furiously and saw that, sure enough, you were the only two in the room.

You closed your eyes as hard as you could. Ian is gone, you repeated like a mantra. Ian is dead. 

“Love?” Emily said, reaching for you.

You opened your eyes and pulled your knees into your chest, grateful for the ability to move at all, and rested your chin on your legs. 

“Breathe, honey,” Emily said, demonstrating slow, deep breaths. You hadn’t realized how shallow your breathing had become until you joined her and felt your lungs fill with air.

Once your breathing settled, you stretched out your legs but remained sitting up; you weren’t ready to risk falling back asleep yet.

“You never told me what it is you see,” Emily said, rubbing circles on your back. “If you want to talk about it, you can tell me.”

You swallowed. “It’s not easy to talk about,” you whispered.

She nodded. “I understand. The offer stands, if you change your mind.”

Silence cloaked the room for a few moments, and you felt her watching you, waiting to see if you would fall apart. But you felt stable, now that you were alert and in control again. 

So you sighed and nodded. “It’s Ian. It’s always Ian.”

Emily’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

“When you were gone, I saw him killing you over and over again. And once you came back…” you shuddered. “Sometimes I’d hallucinate him coming for you all over again. This time, he came for me.”

Emily wrapped her arms around you, and you fell into her embrace, breathing in her soft scent.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, not for the first time since she’d returned, and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last.

You shook your head. “I don’t want you to apologize. I don’t blame you; I blame Ian. And he’s dead and can’t hurt anyone anymore. I just need to work through that a little more, I think.”

Emily hesitated. “You know… Hotch has had me seeing a counselor since I came back. I could get some recommendations from her for you, if you’d like.”

You’d talked to your primary doctor about your sleeping problems, but you hadn’t considered the idea of therapy before. 

“Think about it,” Emily said quickly. “No pressure. I just want you to know your options.”

You nuzzled against her and hummed. “I think it’s a good idea.”

“Good,” Emily said, and you could hear her smiling. “I’ll call her in the morning. Do you want to stay up a little longer or go back to sleep?”

You closed your eyes, feeling perfectly content. “I’m good right here for a while.”

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#criminal minds #emily prentiss #fanfiction #paget brewster #pagetbrewster #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #emily prentiss x reader #comfort #nightmare #sleep paralysis

[section-chief-prentiss]

[section-chief-prentiss]

“people are allowed to dislike characters” WRONG! no one is allowed to dislike emily prentiss!

[section-chief-prentiss]

[section-chief-prentiss]

[section-chief-prentiss]

I write for myself

*checks AO3 every few hours to see if I got any new kudos, comments or subscriptions*

[section-chief-prentiss]

Emily: piss me off once, shame on you.

Emily: piss me off twice, shame on me.

Emily: piss me off three times- you’ll wish you hadn’t. 

[section-chief-prentiss]

Noble

/ˈnəʊbl/ adjective.

having or showing fine personal qualities or high moral principles.

Emily and Aaron, along with the rest of the BAU, help look for a missing little girl who has the same name as their daughter.

-x-

Hi friends,

This started as an idea I had yesterday and, as always, spiralled wildly out of control. It's less a bit less of a case fic than I initially intended, but it is angsty, full of feelings and hurt/comfort as well as a good dose of domestic Hotchniss.

I really hope you like this, and I would love to know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 5.5k (really really got away from me.)

Warnings: kidnapping, canon typical themes

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She’s woken up by tiny hands pressing into her face, familiar warm and little fingers digging into her cheeks. Emily blearily opens her eyes, struggling at first as if they’d been glued together by a lack of sleep, and she’s met with her little girl's face, her dark eyes shining in the low light of the room. 

“Alice, honey, are you okay?” she asks, reaching to the nightstand to turn on the lamp, internally winching when she sees it’s only 4 am. She rests her elbow on the mattress to get a better look at her little girl. 

The movement causes her husband's arm to slip from its place over her waist, the weight of it now resting on her hip. She can feel from his breathing against the back of her neck that the small amount of light in the room hadn’t woken Aaron up. When they first started sleeping together, in the very literal sense, they’d both been light sleepers. Both so used to being alone and facing their monsters by themselves, their demons who had faces of very real men prone to coming out of any shadow. Any sound no matter how small enough to draw them from sleep and into a reality where danger was waiting for them. 

After close to five years together, four of them married, they were both heavier sleepers now, aware of the safety they brought each other even in sleep. A kind of security their children often sought out, her and Aaron’s bed a frequent sanctuary for Jack or Alice, sometimes both, when they woke up in the middle of the night. 

She feels her heart clench at the sight of her 3-year-old daughter. Ever since she was born everyone had always told her that Alice looked exactly like her, something that only seemed to be more true as time went on. If she looked at photos of herself when she was Alice’s age they looked identical, and she often wondered if she’d once been like her little girl, full of life and wonder and joy, before she was taught she needed to be ‘better behaved’. 

Emily knows what’s happened before Alice responds, the signs of a nightmare all there. Her hair was unruly, dark curls that Emily couldn’t say where they’d come from escaping the braids Aaron had diligently done under the toddler's instructions at bedtime. She has visible tear tracks on her perfect cheeks, her eyes shining with more, and her lower lip trembling as if she was trying to stop herself from crying, as if she was trying to be brave. 

“Bad dream,” Alice replies and Emily sighs sympathetically, reaching out and tucking some of Alice’s hair behind her ear, smiling sadly when the toddler leans into the affection. 

“I’m sorry baby,” she says quietly, aware of her still-sleeping husband behind her, “Want to sleep in here with me and Daddy?” Alice nods as she rubs her eyes and Emily pulls back the covers so the little girl can climb under them. She tucks her against her chest, smiling softly as Alice curls into her, her head tucked under her chin as she snuggles in, her tiny fist clasped in Emily’s pyjama shirt.  Emily turns the lamp back off and wraps her arms around her daughter, rubbing comforting circles on her back, “Want to tell Mommy about the bad dream?” 

Alice shakes her head against her, “No,” she says, rubbing the material of Emily’s shirt between her thumb and forefinger to self-soothe, “Mama sing?” 

Emily smiles before she nods, pressing a kiss against the top of Alice’s head as she continues to rub circles on her back, easing her back asleep. It was something she’d done for Jack before Alice had been born, something she’d done on a whim one day when she was home alone with him early on in her relationship with Aaron and the little boy had a nightmare. He’d climbed into bed with her and she’d started singing, hoping it would calm him down and it had. Ever since then, he’d asked for her to sing when he was sick or sad, and she’d happily comply. It seemed natural to do the same thing for Alice, and she’d done it before she was even born. More than once Aaron had walked into a room to find her with her hands pressed into her bump, as she sang quietly. 

“Of course, sweet girl. What do you want me to sing?” 

Alice yawns, already getting heavier against Emily’s chest, her mother’s embrace her favourite safe place, “The sunshine song.” 

She rests her cheek on top of Alice’s head and starts to sing, making sure she stays as quiet as possible so she doesn’t wake up Aaron. 

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

You make me happy when skies are gray

You'll never know, dear, how much I love you

Please don't take my sunshine away.”

She feels Alice’s grip on her shirt loosen, and her breathing even out against her neck, and she blows out a slow breath, pressing a kiss to the little girl's forehead before she rests her head properly on her pillow, ready to try and find sleep again herself. Just as she closes her eyes she feels Aaron’s arm move, his hand shifting from her hip to rest over hers on Alice’s back, enveloping them both in his embrace. 

“Is she okay?” He asks sleepily, his voice thick with sleep in a way that never failed to make her stomach flip, a delicious part of him that was only for her and their children. 

“She’s okay,” she replies, turning her head to look at him, the sleepy concerned look on his face enough to make her smile. She stamps a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “She had a bad dream. Sorry we woke you.” 

He shakes his head, letting her know he doesn’t need her apology, that he’d never be mad about how much she loved their children. He kisses her lips and then her shoulder as she lays back down properly, and he hums, “There are worse ways to be woken up than to you singing our daughter to sleep.” 

___

They get woken up early the next morning by Penelope, an urgency to her voice that sends shivers down both of their spines when she says they have an amber alert in New Mexico that they’ve been asked to help with. 

Aaron calls Jess whilst Emily gets Alice and Jack ready for the day, and they exchange hurried goodbyes once Jess has arrived. Hugs with their children that feel too quick as they rush out of the door, well aware that another child’s fate rested well and truly on their shoulders. 

When they get to the jet they finally have a chance to ask for the details of the case, of the little girl who’d been snatched from outside of her home the evening before whilst her mother took in the washing. 

Emily’s breath catches in her chest when she sees the file, and Penelope hesitates before she says the name of the missing girl. It’s a momentary reaction she can’t control, something that makes the rest of the team look at her, and makes Aaron place his hand on her thigh under the table. She rests her hand over his and links their fingers together, squeezing tightly as she clears her throat. 

“Sorry,” she says, smiling tightly as she makes eye contact with JJ before she returns her attention to the laptop, “Pen, carry on.” 

Penelope hesitates for a moment before Aaron clears his throat, making it clear he doesn’t want anyone drawing any more attention to his wife’s reaction, and she nods, blowing out a slow breath before she continues. 

“Our victim's name is Alice Holmes. She was last seen…” 

The rest of the briefing fades out for Emily as she stares at the screen of her iPad, the face of a little girl who had her daughter's name staring back at her. 

___

It feels like she’s on a knife edge, every one of her nerves fried as she stares at the board with the victimology scattered across it.

This Alice looked nothing like her little girl. She was a couple of years older, the baby-fat Alice still had nowhere to be seen. She was blonde and had blue eyes, her hair almost pin straight in all the photos her parents had provided. Emily felt like it should be enough to convince herself that this was fine, that this wasn’t her daughter but someone else's and that she needed to hold herself together. 

It didn’t make it any easier anytime someone said ‘Alice’ as they were describing the kidnapping, or when they talked about the awful things she was likely enduring if she was still alive. Every time she closed her eyes her little girl’s face flashed across them and she felt like she wanted to scream.

She knew Aaron wasn’t faring any better. His shoulders tenser than normal, his fuse short as they hit a few dead ends and had to go to their hotel at the end of their first day on the case. He holds her close as they Facetime their children, some of the tension that had built throughout the day eased by the sight of Alice and Jack happy and healthy under the care of their aunt. 

Neither of them sleep well that night, waking in fits and starts. Taking it in turns to comfort the other when their subconscious taunted them in their dreams, very real things they’d both seen twisting into the situation they found themselves in. 

By the end of the second day, they worry they won’t find Alice until it’s too late, the chances of finding her alive diminishing with each passing hour. 

It’s Spencer who figures it out, his eidetic memory coming into play when he says he recognises the van for a cleaning company that had been parked outside of the Holmes’s house from the footage of the day Alice disappeared in CCTV from another, up until then, unrelated kidnapping. 

She leans in and she spots it too, the large letters on the side of the van clear even in the grainy footage. 

Ray Dawson Cleaning Services.

Penelope finds his address in record time, her relief palpable when she tells them he only lives an hour away. 

___

After the arrest is made, Dawson claims his innocence as Derek roughly takes him away, shoving him into the back of a cop car with what she knows is restraint, Aaron asks her to go into the house first. 

She understands why, knows she’s done it before, but it doesn’t help the way she feels. The way her chest feels hollowed out as they find the perfectly decorated bedroom for a little girl, something that looks like it was pulled out of a magazine, in Dawson’s basement. They have to force the door open because it is triple locked from the outside, the keys nowhere to be found and Dawson's decision to say this had nothing to do with him absolute, so she knows that Alice has to be somewhere in the room. 

The light switches on, the small windowless room floods with light, and Emily hears shuffling under the bed. She turns and nods at JJ before she tilts her head at the door, silently telling her to go tell the others they’d found her. Once she’s alone she kneels near the bed and peers under it, her breath catching in her chest at the sight of the little girl she’d only seen pictures of curled up against the wall, fear painted across her face that was far too much for a five-year-old to feel. 

“Hi Alice,” Emily says as she lays down, her body flat against the floor as she turns her head so she’s facing under the bed. Alice whimpers, holding a toy tight against her chest as she shies away, “My name’s Emily. I’m with the police.” 

“Is he coming back?” Alice asks, her voice shaking, tears spilling out onto her cheeks, and Emily wants nothing more than to pull the little girl into her arms, to hold her like she’d want someone to hold her little girl until she could get there, but she knows it has to be her choice. 

“No, honey. He’s not coming back,” she assures her, “When you’re ready, I’ll help you outside and your Mommy and Daddy are going to meet us at the hospital,” she adds, watching as Alice shrinks back into herself curling tighter against the wall at the mention of getting out from her place of safety. Emily sighs and tries to think how she could help, the sound of footsteps outside the room let her know the others were all there, waiting on her to bring the little girl out. She thinks of her daughter, and an idea starts to form in her head, “I have a little girl, she’s called Alice too.” 

Alice makes eye contact with her for the first time, furrowing her brow a little, “Really?” 

“Really,” Emily confirms, smiling as the 5-year-old relaxes a little, “She’s three so a little younger than you. My Alice…” she starts, having to clear her throat when she hears the shake in it, knowing this wasn’t the time for her emotions, how she felt about the last couple of days, “My Alice, when she’s scared or hurt she likes me to sing to her. Would you like me to sing to you?” 

Alice nods immediately, loosening her grip on her toy, “Yes please.” 

Emily smiles and puts her hand between them, still leaving space so she doesn’t get too close to Alice, but giving her the option of holding her hand if she wants to. 

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

You make me happy when skies are gray

You'll never know, dear, how much I love you

Please don't take my sunshine away.”

As she sings Alice scoots closer, at first placing her hand over Emily’s, squeezing her hand around hers before she gets even closer. By the time Emily finishes singing Alice is near enough Emily can feel her breath on her face. 

“Emily?” Alice asks, her hand tight in her shirt, wrapped around the material sticking out from the top of her bulletproof vest. 

“Yes, honey?” 

“Will you stay with me?” 

Emily nods, taking a deep breath, pushing the rising emotions back down into her stomach, feeling it turn over with them, nausea she knew would take to shift making itself known, “I’ll stay with you until we see your Mommy and Daddy, okay?” 

Alice stares at her for a moment before she nods and Emily smiles at her before she stands up, not even leaving it a second before she bends down and picks Alice up, hoisting her onto her hip. She tries to ignore the desperation in the little girl's hold on her, how tightly she clings to her neck. She carries her out of the room, cupping the back of her head as she presses her face into her neck, clearly not wanting to see the place where she’d been held or the people who had come to rescue her. It’s only when they get outside, when the fresh air hits them, that Alice looks up just as they are approaching Aaron who had been outside directing everything, his face serious as he talks to the lead detective. When he spots Emily and the little girl they’d been looking for sitting on her hip he pardons himself from the conversation and walks over. 

Alice shies away from him, wary of men after everything she’d been through, and she whimpers as Emily tries to soothe her. 

“It’s okay,” she says, “You remember I told you about my little girl?” 

She sniffs as she looks at Emily, seemingly never ending tears slipping down her cheeks, “Your Alice.” 

“Yeah,” Emily says, exchanging a look with her husband, “My Alice. This is her Daddy,” she says softly, “He’s going to take us to the hospital so you can see your Mommy and Daddy, is that okay?” 

Alice nods, her grip on Emily only loosening a little bit, “That’s okay.” 

Emily smiles and steps past Aaron to open the car door, settling into the back seat with Alice on her lap. Before she closes the door Aaron stops it, his hand on it as he looks at her, his concern clear, his stern expression fading away no one but her and the little girl they’d rescued could see her. 

“Are you okay?” 

He felt guilty for sending her in here first, for asking her to do something he knew would be difficult. It hadn’t been lost on him how hard the last couple of days had been on her, how the little girl that had been missing having the same name as their daughter had made a case that would already have been tough, even tougher. But she was the best at this, child advocacy something she was skilled in and cared deeply about, and it was no secret children largely trusted women over men - especially in a situation like this. 

As her boss, he knew that sending her in had been the right thing to do. As her husband, he wished he didn’t have to be the one to ask it of her. 

She smiles tightly at him as she holds Alice closer, grateful that the journey to the hospital was short because they didn’t have a car seat, “Later.” 

He nods, knowing it’s the best he’s going to get for now, and he reaches out and squeezes her shoulder, a silent show of the love he’d wait to give her, “Later.”

___

They head straight from the hospital to the jet where the rest of the team are waiting. 

Emily keeps her promise, she sits with Alice, the little girl all but glued to her side, until her parents arrive. Aaron stands in the corner of the room, answering the doctor’s questions as well as he could, keeping vigil over the little girl, who had the same name as his, and well as his wife, her nerves clearly close to fraying. 

It felt like a lifetime ago when he hadn’t been able to read her, when he would have thought she was unaffected by most of the things he saw. He knew her better now, and had done since before their relationship shifted from friendship into more. She was good at compartmentalising, that was true, but it was because she’d been taught since she was young that her emotions weren’t as important as what was going on around her. A side effect of the political world she’d been raised in, a past she’d never quite outrun. 

He could see it now. Could see how she ran her fingers through Alice’s hair like she was their Alice, how she clenched her jaw for a moment before she blew out a long slow breath whenever the little girl against her side asked her a question, getting herself ready to sound unaffected by what was going on around her.

It was nothing short of a privilege that he was the one those barriers would crumble around, that he was the person she trusted more than anyone else. He loved being there for her, he loved her more than he had ever loved anyone else. 

When Alice’s parents arrive, they are horrified she’d only been an hour away whilst she was missing, so close and yet so far out of reach. The little girl clambers out of Emily’s embrace and into her mother’s, her tears back with a vengeance as she sinks into her arms, her father’s arms around the both of them. Once Alice has calmed down a little, her parents hug both Emily and Aaron, their embraces a little tighter when the little girl tells them their daughter is called Alice too, a hint of innocence in her voice as the weight of her words settles over the adults in the room. 

The ride to the jet is silent. Emily stares out of the window, focusing on the town passing them by, the place she hoped to never have to visit again. 

As they board the jet she ignores how the rest of the team is looking at her, the empathy on their faces almost too much for her to bear. They had purposely left two seats for her and Aaron together, an unspoken rule that had existed since the team found out about their relationship, and she lets Aaron slip into the window seat, something he doesn’t argue with as she sits next to him, her eyes fixed on the table in front of them. 

The moment they can take their seatbelts off Emily is out of her seat, her back to the team as she steps into the kitchenette, the curtain pulled behind her so she can have a moment of privacy. She blows out a shaky breath as she places her palms on the small counter in the back, leaning some of her weight on it as she tries to catch her breath, to force everything she desperately didn’t want to feel until she was at home, until after she’d hugged her kids, back down. 

If she started crying now, she wasn’t sure she’d stop. 

She hears the swish of the curtain and familiar footsteps behind her. She doesn’t have to turn around to know it’s him. 

“Em.” 

She presses her lips together and turns to look at her husband, her arms crossed over her chest as she leans back against the counter. She clears her throat, her eyes fixed on him, how he stands in just in the entryway to the kitchenette, his shoulders tense as he doesn’t know how to approach her. She clenches her teeth and blows a breath out through them. 

“Can you make me some tea?” She asks, even though she’s closer to the hot water and the tea bags. He knows it’s an olive branch, her letting him look after her because she knows he needs to. 

“Of course,” he says, stepping closer, purposely not touching her as he pours some hot water into a paper cup and grabs a chamomile tea bag. He looks at her, his gaze fixed on her side profile as she continues to stare ahead. She’d always been beautiful to him, even when he was married to someone else, and even now, simmering in her grief and where she’d let her mind wander the last few days, she was still gorgeous. The slope of her nose, the cut of her jaw, and her long lashes that were casting shadows onto her cheek. She was beautiful, and she was all his. “This feels like a stupid question,” he starts, his focus back on stirring her tea, “But I have to ask it, how are you?” 

She scoffs, her arms tightening over her chest. She purposely keeps her voice low so it won’t be heard over the hum of the jet in the main part of the cabin, “Are you asking as my husband or as my boss?” 

He turns to look at her, his eyebrows furrowed slightly, “Does my answer change yours?” He asks curiously, and she finally looks at him, her eyebrows raised, and he knows what she hasn’t said, “Your husband.” 

She smiles sadly, her lower lip shaking in a way both of them ignore, “I had a hard day at work.” 

“Sweetheart,” he says, moving to reach out for her but stopping, not wanting to push her, to be the thing that tipped her over the edge, “I’m sorry, I-”

“No, it’s…” she chokes on a noise somewhere between a sob and laugh and she shakes her head, “It’s not your fault. It was the right call, I’ve done it before it’s just…that was hard. And I really wish it wasn’t your job to make the call, even though it was the right one.” 

He sighs, familiar guilt filling his lungs, making it momentarily hard to breathe as he looks at his wife, her jaw tight as she avoids eye contact with him, “I wish it wasn’t my job either.” 

“I know,” she nods, her smile strained as she looks at him, “And I know this wasn’t easy on you either,” she adds, “I’ll be okay, honey. I just need to get home and hug the kids,” she says, her chin trembling, “Hold them until I stop imagining them in her place,” she chuckles humourlessly and shakes her head, “But we’re still five hours from home and they’ll be in bed by the time we get back.” 

He watches as she reaches up to fiddle with the necklace he’d bought her last Christmas, two tiny disk pendants with the letters “J” and “A” stamped on them. He can’t hold himself back from touching her anymore and he places his hand on her hip, turning her to face him, a smile he hopes she finds comforting on his face. 

“I know it’s not the same. But, until we get home you could always hug me,” he says, warmth spreading in his chest when a flash of a genuine smile breaks out over her face, “If you want to.” 

She huffs out a laugh and closes the gap between them, wrapping her arms around his neck and sinking into him, something deep inside of her easing slightly when he holds her back just as fiercely, one of his hands firmly on her back whilst he uses the others to run his knuckles up and down her side. She presses her face into his neck and breathes him in, one of her hands shifting to cup the back of his head, her fingers digging into his hair. 

“I always want to hug you,” she says softly, turning her head so her cheek is resting against his shoulder. She sighs contentedly, feeling something close to relaxed for the first time in days, and she smiles when she looks at the cup of tea on the side next to them, steam rising up from it and reaching her nose, the scent of her favourite tea to drink when she was stressed hitting her. She pulls back to look at him, her smile soft as she leans in to kiss him, her lips delicate against his, “Thank you for making my tea.” 

He hears what she hasn’t said, what she won’t say until they are back at their house in the sanctuary they had built there together. No well-meaning friends just on the other side of a thin curtain desperately trying to hear them over the hum of the jet. 

Thank you for loving me.

Thank you for being here. 

Thank you for being you. 

He leans in and kisses her, his hand on her cheek as he holds her close, “Anytime, sweetheart.” 

___

When they get home, she’s up the stairs before he even closes the front door. She toes off her shoes and shrugs off her coat on her way, leaving him to pick them up so she can go and see their children. He does it gladly, not making any gentle teasing comments he usually would about cleaning up after her. 

He didn’t mind, he loved picking up the pieces of her that she’d allow to fall apart around him.

She barely says hello to Jess as they pass on the stairs, and Jess looks up the stairs at her curiously before she walks towards Aaron as the door to Jack’s room briefly opens and then closes. 

“Is she okay?” Jess asks, her brows furrowed as she hugs him. He sighs as he hugs her back and he steps away, looking for her jacket for her.

“It was a case about a missing little girl,” he says, looking upstairs as Jack’s door opens again, only to be quickly followed by Alice’s, “Emily was the one who found her. Alive thank god.” 

Jess winces sympathetically, and takes her jacket from him, “That’s rough.” 

He hums, “Even rougher when you know the little girl is called Alice.” 

She places her hand over her chest after she shrugs her jacket on, “Poor Emily,” she says, looking up the stairs before she looks back at him, “Poor you. Are you okay?” 

He sighs and scratches the back of his head as he thinks about it, “I’ll be okay once I see her. And once I stop feeling guilty about sending Emily into the room she was being kept in first.”

Jess pulls him into another hug, “She understands your job, Aaron,” she assures him, patting his back before she steps away and heads towards the door, “It’s what makes you guys work. You’ll hold this against yourself a lot longer than she will.” 

He hums and puts his hands on his hips, his eyebrow raised at her, “What made you such an expert on human behaviour?” 

She chuckles and winks at him as she opens the door, “I’ve known you most of my life, some of it was bound to stick eventually,” she says as she steps onto the porch, “Get some sleep. Hug your wife. Everything will feel better tomorrow.” 

He nods, “Thanks, Jess.” 

She smiles at him one more time, “Any time.” 

He sighs as she closes the door and he locks it behind her, double-checking the locks out of habit before he steps further into his quiet house. He puts their go-bags in the laundry room and then decides to head upstairs, desperate to see his family. He pops into Jack’s room and sees he’s fast asleep, his covers tucked up around him in a way that lets him know Emily had adjusted them when she came in to see him, the boy well known for wriggling out of them as he slept. He drops a kiss on his forehead, whispers his love against his skin, and then slips back out of the room, not wanting to wake him. 

When he walks into Alice’s room his breath catches in his chest at the sight he’s met with, his two girls fast asleep and wrapped around each other. Emily was pressed up against the wall on top of the covers having climbed in with Alice when she came in to see her, still wearing her clothes from work, curled up so she could fit in the small bed. Alice is pressed against her, her hand loosely tangled in her mother’s shirt, and Aaron can just picture her waking up just enough to realise Emily was there with her before she fell back asleep, comforted by the fact her mother was home. 

Aaron briefly considers waking Emily up, knowing that her back wouldn’t thank her for sleeping in this position in the morning, but he knows she needs this, that their daughter was the comfort she’d been seeking since they’d last seen her. She was an excellent mother, better than she ever gave herself credit for, and he never felt anything less than blessed when he thought about the fact she’d chosen him as the father to her children. 

He briefly walks out into the hallway and pulls a blanket out of the linen closet before he steps back into the bedroom. He lays the blanket over his wife, making sure to tuck it around her so she doesn’t get cold. He kisses the top of Alice’s head, taking a moment to breathe in the scent of her no tear shampoo, and he whispers against her hair. 

“Love you, Princess,” he says, kissing her head again before he turns his attention to his wife, tension in his chest easing when he sees how relaxed she is. He kisses her cheek, “Love you, sweetheart.” 

She grumbles, waking up ever so slightly, “Aaron?” 

“Go back to sleep, baby,” he says, kissing her cheek again, running his fingers through her hair to soothe her, not entirely convinced she was actually awake, her eyes still closed, “You and Alice get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you in the morning.” 

She hums, tightening her hold on their daughter, and he kisses her cheek again as she mumbles just loud enough for him to hear, “Love you.” 

“Love you too, Em.” 

He sleeps fitfully in the big bed all alone, not used to all of the space to himself, for a couple of hours until she comes in, her eyes bleary with a sleeping Alice in her arms as she passes the little girl over to him so she can actually get ready for bed. She smiles gratefully at him as he settles their daughter against his chest and she leans in to kiss him, her lips pressed against his as she silently thanks him again for knowing her, for always knowing what she needed even when she didn’t. 

When she climbs into bed with him, Alice sandwiched between them, they fall asleep quickly. Safe and content in their own home with their daughter with them and their son asleep just down the hall. 

-x-

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[section-chief-prentiss]

[section-chief-prentiss]

emily: *being water boarded* bitch, is this dasani?? disgusting.

[section-chief-prentiss]

Emily : To be honest, I deserve compensation for not being the menace to society that I could be. I'm skipping on a lot of fun here.

Hotch :

Hotch : You're holding back ??