Hotchniss One-Shots

care

The day had been long, the kind of case that demanded every ounce of focus, but Aaron couldn't help noticing the little things. Emily's usual sharpness was there, yes, but her movements had been slightly slower, a hand occasionally brushing over her stomach, a tight line around her eyes she tried to mask with a quick smile.

No one else seemed to notice. Rossi was engrossed in interviewing witnesses, Garcia was deep in her database, and Reid was... well, Reid was always in his own head. But Aaron had seen Emily wince when bending to pick up a folder, heard the quiet sigh she tried to smother when standing too long.

He had watched, his concern growing, but he hadn't spoken—not in front of the team. Emily was fiercely independent; he knew she'd brush it off if he asked. Still, he made a mental note: once the team dispersed, he would check on her. He would make sure she was okay, even if she didn't want to admit it.

By the time they returned to the hotel, Emily excused herself quietly, claiming she wanted to review files before bed. Aaron lingered in the hallway, waiting a moment, then gently knocked on her door.

"Emily?" His voice was soft, deliberate.

"I'm fine," she called back, but it lacked conviction.

The doorknob turned slightly, and he stepped inside before she could protest. His eyes immediately softened when he saw her on the bed, hunched over slightly, one hand pressed to her lower abdomen.

"You're not fine," he said, the edge of command replaced with concern.

"I said I'm fine," she repeated, but her voice cracked slightly.

Aaron crossed the room, crouching in front of her. "Emily, you're hurting," he said gently, one hand hovering near her arm. She flinched, not out of fear but because no one else was supposed to see her like this.

"It's... nothing," she whispered, attempting a laugh that came out tight.

He shook his head, placing a steady hand on her shoulder. "It's not nothing. You don't have to pretend with me."

Emily let out a shaky breath. "I don't want anyone else on the team to know. They'd make it worse."

"I won't tell them," he said firmly. "I just want to make sure you're okay."

He guided her to lie back against the pillows, his hands steady as he brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. The warmth radiating from him made her muscles loosen slightly, the tension easing.

"You're warm," he murmured, pressing his palm gently against her lower back. "Let me help."

Emily leaned into him, feeling safe in a way she rarely allowed herself. Her hand rested over his, holding on, grounding herself in his presence.

"You don't have to be brave right now," he whispered, tilting his head so his forehead nearly touched hers. "Let me take care of you, even for a little while."

Her lips curved into a small, grateful smile. "You always know how to show up at exactly the right moment," she murmured.

He allowed himself the briefest of smiles before leaning down, brushing a tender kiss to her temple. "Always," he said.

Aaron stayed by her side for a moment, letting her settle into the pillows. "I'll be right back," he murmured, standing and moving toward the small kitchenette area of her room. Within a few minutes, he returned carrying a mug of steaming herbal tea and a small heating pad.

"Here," he said softly, handing her the cup. "It'll help a little with the cramps."

Emily accepted it, her fingers brushing his as she took it. "You didn't have to," she whispered, though the warmth of the tea and his attention made her chest ache in a different way.

"I did," he said simply. There was no argument in his voice, only certainty. "You've been hiding this all day. I noticed. And... I want to help."

She let out a quiet laugh, bittersweet, and lifted the heating pad. "You've been watching me all day?"

"I... noticed," he admitted, settling on the edge of the bed next to her. "You don't have to pretend with me, Emily. Not now. Not ever."

She leaned against him slightly, letting herself rest her head near his shoulder. The pain didn't vanish completely, but with Aaron there, the steady warmth and calm strength he exuded made it easier to bear.

"Thank you," she murmured, wrapping her hands lightly around the heating pad. "For... caring. For noticing."

He placed a hand over hers, thumb brushing gently over the back of her hand. "Always," he whispered. His voice was quiet, intimate, almost reverent. "You don't have to go through this alone."

For a long moment, they just sat there, the silence between them soft and comfortable. No cases, no chaos, no team—just the quiet intimacy of two people who trusted each other completely.

Emily tilted her head, looking up at him. "You're always so... calm," she said softly, teasing in her tone despite the discomfort.

Aaron allowed himself a small, rare smile. "Someone has to be," he said, his voice low. "And someone has to take care of you."

Her lips twitched into a smile, small but genuine. "I guess I'm lucky, then."

"You are," he said, leaning just slightly closer. The subtle movement was almost imperceptible, but Emily felt it, and her heart gave a small, unexpected leap.

For the rest of the night, Aaron stayed. He fetched her more tea, adjusted the heating pad when it shifted, and stayed close enough that she could feel the steady warmth of him beside her. They spoke little, not needing words—the quiet companionship was enough.

And when sleep finally began to pull her under, Emily realized something: she could face anything, even the worst cramps, as long as Aaron was quietly, steadfastly... there.