"There are boxes... everywhere."
All day long they worked. From six when Emily was awaken by the sound of another person groaning and then a shift in the bed. Tell seven in the afternoon where the same person's groaning that woke her up tell now when that person's groaning is now keeping her up.
Most of the boxes are hers. That was their agreement. Since Hotch has Jack, and they both know kids need a solid environment, they decided for Hotch's place. Yet somehow he has boxes everywhere.
Hotch stirs in his sleep, making a noise that will surely be the build up of a nightmare. She lifts herself in to her side and rubs his ribs softly.
The first time she ever came into his apartment she noticed immediately how all of anything Jack would need was out and ready for use but Hotch's things stayed boxed.
His suits hang in neat rows in his closet, and now hers do too; making it their closet.
There's another groan and then a whimper," Foyett."
The man never seems to have lost his grip on him. She hates it because she too knows that Doyle never lost his on her. She can imagine what he's dreaming about. He never tells her though. Never tells her if she's guessed correctly. She tells him.
Sometimes she can see the memories hit him.
She can feel them because she knows them.
"Aaron," she whispers pulling his left hand to her hip to stop him from thrashing out. "Aaron."
"Hmph."
She reaches up with her free hand and pulls him to her. Trying to comfort him with her body.
As a teenager no one ever told you that the people you love the most hurt you the most. They forgot to mention the part that his silence would sting like a thousand knives. His pain would be worse than torture. His joy would be the best happiness.
Then again maybe it's because you can't express that feeling.
"It's okay," as he's pulled away from Foyett and his knife he's instead thrown into Emily. Into soft lavender and brunette hair.
"Emily?" He has no recollection of the of the nightmare but he does know it wasn't good.
She doesn't say anything but does rake her nails up his back. She rubs circles into his back and he can't do much more than me lured into the calm facade that she brings.
She thinks back to those boxes. What they mean.
Foyett changed them all in ways and Hotch took the biggest hit, as figured.
They check their locks twice. Never put their families' names down. Always check twice before settling down in their houses.
They lost more than just Haley that year. They lost Jack's innocence. They lost a part of Hotch.
Doyle wasn't much better. She still feels overwhelmingly guilty about that. Yet, would she be right here in this bed, curled up with him, if he hadn't come after her?
Would they have realized what they were missing out on?
"I like knowing that you'll be here every night," he mumbles feeling sleep pulling at his loose t-shirt.
She keeps up her circular movement and kisses his forehead. "I do to."
She won't have to sleep alone anymore. She won't have to worry if he's okay in his apartment. If she's okay in her's.
They're safe here.
Together.
That was a little short but I did update my other story, UnderCover Love, which is my excuse for this one taking so long.
I think as soon as this is over I'm gonna bounce between the new story and Under Cover Love...
I'll let everyone know when it's up!
-S.H.
