Hotch and Emily

"Slowly Losing it"

Emily has been home for two weeks.

Hotch walks into the dim lighted room where Emily stays. Emily sits on the bed, curled in a ball. She hugs onto her knees, so there is no space between her breasts and thighs.
She has been wearing the same grey oversized T-shirt for the last 4 days. The bruises on her body haven't faded off just yet. She stares deeply into the wall, as if it can fulfill the vacant feeling that lives inside the pit of her stomach.
Hotch looks at her with the same worried expression he has worn for weeks. His eyes sink inside his head, and his eyebrows furrow downwards. His lips tense up a little, and he breaks a small sweat on the top left of his forehead. Hotch hates seeing Emily like this. Just three weeks ago Emily was smiling and giggling at their small baby Abigail. He let's his mind take off to a much happier place. He remembers when he asked Emily if she wanted chips or cookies and she yelled "Cookies!" and snatched them out of his hands with overwhelming joy. She was much like a child then; all happy and bubbly. He loved it when she was like that. He smiles knowing he was the one that took her to that place of happiness. Then his mind enters a much darker place, a memory he didn't want to relive. He remembers when they were in the hospital waiting for the news on what happened to their baby. Emily was telling him that she doesn't want to hang onto false hope. That if anything happened, she will turn into something that she can't even imagine. Just someone who is filled with hatred and emptiness. Hotch's eyes tear, noticing that Emily knew herself way to well. She is now the person she described three weeks ago. Hotch shakes the painful memories out of his head and focuses on reality. The 'now'. He stares at the motionless Emily on the bed. He slowly walks up to her and places a hand on her shoulder. "Baby, Reid came by again asking for you."
Emily doesn't respond.
Hotch pauses a moment, hopeful for an answer. Even if it were just a few words, it would at least tell him that she's ok. That she's not completely broken. Unfortunately Emily stays quite.
"I told him you needed rest."
Emily just stares at the wall, ignoring Hotch.
"Baby. You can't keep shutting them out. They need to know that your ok." Hotch says with sincerity.
Emily thinks about this for a second. She takes her eyes off the wall and darts them to the floor. She knows it's not fair to the team. She hates hurting them. She looks out the window, trying to get a glimpse of the sky. It looks like a hue of blackness with little white dots keeping the outside from turning pitch black. She then looks at the bed and manages to say two words. "I'm tired." She says as she lies down, sinking into her comforters. The blankets and sheets swallow her whole. Hotch just looks down at his feet and sighs. He's happy she spoke. She hasn't opened her mouth for the last two weeks. Only to eat. She hasn't eaten much either. She sometimes nibbles on a few salad leaves or a peice of steak. Never a whole meal. It's definitely affecting her ability to function. She lost almost twenty pounds, making her look even more underweight than when she got out of captivity.
Hotch removes his shirt and lies on the bed beside Emily. He tugs her in close, making sure she feels safe in his arms. She responds this time, by wrapping her thin arms around his waist. Hotch slowly strokes her hair while she rests her head on his muscular chest. Her eyes tear up. She hasn't felt this way since Abby died. She almost forgot what his touch felt like. She let's a tear slowly roll down her cheak. It drips onto Hotch's naked chest. She then realizes, even though she's dying inside, she needs to at least act like she's ok. For them. She drifts off to sleep, in the arms of her one true love.
XXX
The early morning sunlight burns Emily's shut eyes. She slowly opens them. She looks up at Hotch, who has his arms held loosely around her waist. She then looks at the alarm clock. It's neon colored lights form the numbers '7:35'. Emily hasn't woken up this early in a long time. She usually wakes up around three in the evening, ever since the incident. She slowly lifts Hotch's heavy arms off of her waists and gently moves them to the soft matress. She stands up off of the bed, stretching her scrawny arms up above her head. She still feels the aching desire for Abby's giggles and small wines. She digs in her drawers for some sweats to wear. She slides them over her underwear. Looking down at her shirt, she decides to leave the old thing on. She pulls on some tennies and shoots for the door. She needs some fresh air. Maybe that will help her cope.
Just as she reaches for the door nob, she hears an all too familiar voice. "Baby? Where are you going so early?" Hotch asks with his groggy, tired voice.
"Out. I need air. I will be back in an hour or so." Emily says in a hushed voice, still facing the door.
"I will come with you then." Hotch says.
"No. Please. I think I need some time alone." Emily responds in a much quieter voice than before.
"Ok honey. You ok?" The tall man asks.
"Yeah." Emily lies. "I'm fine." She leans up on her tippy toes and gives him a small peck on the lips, quickly turning away after. She hated lying to Hotch, but she hated seeing him hurt for her even more. "I will be back before breakfest." With that Emily was out the door.
The cold air hits her skin hard. She inhales deeply, to get fresh oxygen into her lungs. She needed to get out of that house. She didn't want to breakdown there. Not in front of Hotch. He has already seen her break down in a sielent way, but not this way. All she wants to do is die. Maybe if she ended it herself, it would all go by quicker. She can't get herself to do it though, she still loves Hotch and the team. They need her, and she isn't selfish. The smell of cigarette smoke and Marijuana cuts her off from her thoughts. When she looks up, she is in a more poor neighborhood. Where has she walked to? Emily glances at her watch. It reads '8:45 am'. What? Emily thought she had just left her house. She has no idea where she is, but she thinks she can find her way back. This large white man approaches her. His muscular body towers over her. He must see the pain in her eyes because the question he asks her is terrifying. "You want a score?"
Emily knew what he meant. He wanted to sell her drugs. No way! Her mind screams. Her aching heart tells her something different. She needs to feel something again. She heard it works. The man continued on. "Marijuana, amphetamines, coke, you name it, I sell it."
Emily feels like she should show him her badge, to get him off of her back. Then she remembers she's not on duty. She hasn't been at work in three weeks. She can't seem to answer his question. Does some part of her want to take the drugs?
She reaches for her purse and shuffles through it, finding her wallet. She looks into the large man's eyes and asks, "How much coke can I buy with $150?"

A/N
I'm sorry I made her buy drugs... Anyways I hope you guys aren't too upset with me. Tell me what you think about this chapter? Please vote!