Her Mother's Daughter - Hotchniss

chapter four: tear in my heart

"You fell asleep in my / Car I drove the whole time / But that's okay / I'll just avoid the holes so you sleep fine"

-

The team had been up for days straight, none of them getting any sleep, on a local elementary school bus abduction following the murder of the driver. At last, the children were all home safe, the unsubs in custody, and the team could go home. Everyone else went home at the first chance, but Emily stayed to finished her report. She went into Hotch's office and handed it to him. He gave her a single nod.

"Prentiss," he said, his mind half-awake, "Who else is here?"

"Just us," she said. She rubbed her eyes. "I was gonna go home once I finished the report, so I think I'm gonna get going." It made perfect sense in her head, no redundancies or awkwardness, but she'd been awake for 99 hours.

"Prentiss." She turned and raised her eyebrows in a display attention. "You're practically falling asleep where you're standing. You probably shouldn't drive, darling." A drained smile responded to the name. "I'll probably be here a bit longer, you can sleep on the couch until we leave." He pointed to the couch in his office.

"You sure?"

"Absolutely."

"I'll be fine to go home, Hotch. Bridget's at school anyway,"

"What day is it?"

"Monday," she chuckled. "I only know 'cause she was complaining about having to go back to school today. Last week was break,"

"Ah." He nodded. "You still shouldn't drive. Let me take you home." He grabbed his suit jacket and stood in front of Emily.

"But my car,"

"I'll drive you in the morning, my love." He kissed the top of her head, and she put her head to his chest. It made him smile. Emily had a tendency to do that to him.

—

He walked her up to her apartment. "Stay?" she asked. "Bridge won't be home till eight-thirty 'cause of school, then she has hockey practice; Jack's at school, and Jessica's there at your house, right?" Hotch nodded. "We'll just sleep a few hours. I want to lay next to you for once."

How was he supposed to say no?

He had his arm around her shoulders, and she was leaning her head against his shoulder. Again he kissed her head, and carried her up to bed. She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. He set her down in her bed and went to take off her shoes, but she'd already done it herself at the door. "Here, darling, take your coat off, you don't wanna sleep in your jacket." She hummed agreement, already falling asleep. He took her coat and put it on a chair in her bedroom. He took off his own shoes and set them by the bedroom door. He was about to get in bed when she opened her eyes a slit and smiled to herself.

"Darling, take your coat and tie off, you don't wanna sleep in your coat and tie." He chuckled and did so, removing his belt as well. "Good job," she praised, no longer lucid. Hotch smiled and climbed in her bed, pulling the covers over himself. "Mm. Mm! I don't like this," she said.

"What, honey?" Emily took off her button-up, bra, and slacks, put on a t-shirt and sweatpants, and got back in bed. "Uncomfortable?" She nodded. "Better now?" Another nod. Emily dug her head into his chest again. He unbuttoned his own shirt and took it off, leaving just his undershirt. "There we go, now, darling. Get your sleep, you've been working so hard, you did such a good job, my love..."

After several hours, Emily was shaken awake by her nightmare, falling suddenly. She pulled herself out of his arms and he was awake with her. "Emily, what's wrong?" She swung her legs over the side of the bed to face away from him and she put her head in her hands, her elbows rested on her knees. Hotch tentatively put his hand on her back. When she didn't stop him, he kept it there and rubbed her back to comfort her. "I'm here. What's going on?"

"Nothing. I'm fine,"

"Tell me the truth, Emily." She sighed.

"I'm okay. Stop." He nodded even though she couldn't see.

"At least lay back down. You need your sleep." Emily let out another sigh, laid back down — facing away from Hotch — and he took her in his arms again. She let herself fall asleep, safe with him wrapped around her.

For sixteen years, Emily had devoted herself to two things: her daughter and her career. Never dating. At last, she was finding someone to love her for more than a night of meaningless sex, which she hadn't even had since Bridget was born. He was a father, too, so he understood the importance of being a parent and the precedence a child takes. His love pushed Emily's boundaries in all the right places, never shattering her. It was part of why she felt so strongly about him.

Aaron saw Emily's badass, cold, intelligent exterior, which, to some degree, was not just a masquerade; he saw, too, though, her sparks of pain and her weak spots, where she hated the light to shine. He would be her sun, making them come out in the gentle glowing warmth of love and introspection rather than the cold, harsh, piercing white light of scrutiny. In turn, she was his relief from the pained pressures of his life, giving him someone who would care, not judge or hate or yell. His softness he only had for Jack was perfectly molded to fit Emily, too.

They're complete people on their own, but together they complement each other.