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The third night in a row Emily woke up crying his name; JJ pointed her toward the door.
“You need to talk to him.” She said.
“About what?”
“You're having nightmares.”
“And you don’t think he has enough on his plate?” Emily asked. “What does he care about my nightmares? He doesn’t need my problems.”
“That’s ridiculous. Obviously this is something that affects you deeply; Hotch needs to know about it.”
“Don’t profile me, JJ.”
“I'm not doing that. You have to know how concerned I am about you. This is the third night in row you’ve woken up crying in a cold sweat. How long has this been happening?”
“I don't know.” Emily shrugged.
“Emily…”
“I don’t even know what I'm dreaming about. I'm sorry I woke you but you should go back to sleep. I'm fine.”
“You are not fine,” JJ said. “Neither is he as a matter of fact and its starting to affect you both outside the boundaries of sleep.”
“I'm fine.” Emily repeated in a tone that said the conversation was over.
“Bullshit.”
“JJ, I just need to get some sleep.” Emily flipped her sweat drenched pillow and lay down again. It was nearly two in the morning; she feared there would be no more sleep tonight. Surely JJ would stay up all night just to see if she would.
This case needed her full attention, which was becoming more difficult with the lack of sleep. There wasn’t enough coffee in the world…there wasn’t since the nightmares started. Emily thought she was finally moving on from them until they got the case in Spartanburg, South Carolina. Women were being stabbed, slaughtered, and at first sight of the grisly crime scene photos, the nightmares came back. They reminded Emily of George Foyet, of what he did to Hotch, of what he did to her in her dreams.
She’d been slashed, shot, and even worse. Sometimes she screamed out for Hotch but he couldn’t help because he was hurt too. He had to watch what Foyet did to her, every single time. There were dreams when Emily watched him die. In others his battered body was the last thing she saw before the light extinguished from her eyes. No matter what, they could never save each other and Foyet won. Who wouldn’t wake up screaming from that?
“Goddammit!” Emily got up from bed altogether.
JJ watched her rifle through the messenger bag on the dresser. She came out with a sterling silver cigarette case and a lighter. The whole team knew that Emily had her one clove a day habit. JJ watched it become something more over the past months. It was actually the cloves that were her first indication that something was wrong.
“Go back to sleep, JJ; you can still salvage some of this night.”
“So can you.” JJ’s tone was hopeful even if she knew the situation was hopeless.
“Maybe after I get some air…its stifling in here.”
The air was blasting; JJ was actually thinking about turning the thermostat up. She felt so bad for Emily. She seemed to be crawling out of her own skin. There was nothing she could do; her friend wouldn’t let her come near her. Morgan had tried as well and Emily shut down quickly. JJ didn’t want to let it go tonight but there was no choice. Emily was carrying enough weight.
One more blow and surely she’d crumble to the ground. If she woke up one more night screaming then JJ would go to Hotch herself. They were a team, a family, and had to look out for each other. She would deal with the consequences later. Emily’s mental well being was more important than her silent treatment. Reluctantly, JJ slipped back under the blanket and closed her eyes.
Emily went out onto the balcony. South Carolina was stifling tonight. There weren't too many young women keeping their windows open even in this weather. There was a maniac out there and he was stalking the tranquil streets of Spartanburg. He was a rapist, who when he was done terrorizing his victims he would stab and slash them nearly beyond recognition.
Emily Prentiss had a strong stomach…she’d seen a lot in her time at the BAU. The first time she saw these crime scene photos, she had to excuse herself. Hotch managed to get her alone on the plane, though she avoided him, to ask if she was alright. She lied, saying she was fine.
That first night on the road the nightmares came back. This time she was one of the victims and Foyet was the Unsub. What he did to her still shook Emily. It was more intense than ever; she felt it hours later in the light of sweltering day.
Now she was afraid to sleep. This case needed her attention…she didn’t need this right now. She also didn’t need JJ tattling to Hotch. Her heart was in the right place, they were supposed to look out for each other, but now was the worse time. Sighing, Emily lit her clove. Deeply inhaling the cherry vanilla poison, she leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes.
“Prentiss?”
“Jesus!” She sat up abruptly, clutching her chest. An attempt to breathe led to a coughing fit. Hotch sat down next to her, gently hitting her back. When it subsided she got up and moved away from him.
“You scared the hell out of me.” She spoke in a low tone.
“I didn’t mean to. I thought you'd fallen asleep with a cigarette in your hand.”
“I hadn’t.”
“I see that now.”
An awkward silence fell over them after that. Emily leaned on the railing, staring out at the night. It was such a beautiful city…Emily always had a soft spot for the American South. Knowing he was out there, hunting, maybe even slashing someone right now, made her stomach turn. The murders started at least six weeks apart and had progressed to barely a week. The Unsub was devolving and the BAU had very little to go on. He would make a mistake soon but how many women would have to meet their end for that to happen.
“We’re going to catch him.” Hotch said, reading her thoughts and breaking the silence.
“How many women will die before we do?”
“I can't answer that.”
“The question was rhetorical, Hotch.”
She took one last puff of the clove and put it out. Emily didn’t know if it was making her feel sick to her stomach or if it was something else entirely.
“What's wrong, Prentiss?”
“Women are dying…isn’t that enough?” She countered.
“That’s never pleasant but it’s always been the job. This is something else.”
“I don’t know what you're talking about.”
“You're hyper vigilant and can barely look at the crime scene photos. You're freebasing coffee and smoking way over your one clove a day. You're restless, snappish, quiet, and angry. Something is wrong.”
“No.” Emily shook her head. She’d gotten so used to denying it; the lies were second nature now.
“The past few months have been hard on the entire team, I know that.” Hotch went on. “You especially have taken some hard blows. It’s not always easy to…”
“Don’t.” She held up her hand. “Don’t give me the damn speech about bouncing back, OK Hotch. You were stabbed nine times and came back to work after 30 days. You nearly lost your whole family and returned even quicker. Should I even talk about being blown up by terrorists and insisting on flying afterwards? I'm fine.”
“How long have you been having the nightmares?” He asked, ignoring her analysis of him. He knew how he did things, which is exactly why he knew how Emily did things. They were so alike that it was scary. Morgan and Rossi always joked about it, poked fun, but it was truer than the Unit Chief even wanted to admit to himself.
“I fucking hate profilers.” She grumbled.
“Answer me, Emily. How long have you been having the nightmares?”
It wasn’t often he used her first name. There was an air of formality with the whole team; part of Hotch needed to keep his distance. Only Rossi and Garcia’s first names were interchangeable with their last. Dave, because he’d known him forever, and Penelope because she was Penelope. Hotch knew he was more formal with Prentiss than anyone else.
It wasn’t just because she was the newest member of the team. He didn’t count Dave, they worked together before. It wasn’t because Strauss tried to use her as a mole and it took some time for the Unit Chief to warm up to and trust her. Most of the reason couldn’t properly be put into words. Hotch knew the answer in his guts but articulation of the gut was never an easy venture.
Emily seemed to work in silent agreement of their peace accord. She almost always kept her professional distance while excelling at being a Supervisory Special Agent. That all changed the night Hotch knocked on her door. He still couldn’t explain why he’d done that. It was the first sledge hammer blow to the wall they built between them.
It had been crumbling ever since. Not completely destroyed, it was cracked enough for them to reach through and touch each other. Now Hotch just had to figure out how. They’d done it before but never for long.
“I'm fine Hotch.”
She wasn’t fine; she was dead on her feet. Unable to stand any longer, Emily sank into the chair beside him. She ran her fingers through her thick, raven hair and sighed.
“I'm here to listen.” He said. “I'm here to help. You're not alone, Emily, we’re a team. We’re like a chain link fence and when one of the links is broken it leaves the whole structure vulnerable.”
“Well forgive me for weakening the whole team. From now on I’ll just keep my silly problems to myself.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.” Hotch put his hand on her shoulder. He expected her anger. “Please Emily, just tell me about the dreams.”
“I have a lot of them.” She finally admitted. Emily felt the dam breaking and the water was about to rush through. She had to stop it but had no idea how.
“Just tell me about one.”
“I walk into your apartment that afternoon and I see the pool of blood. My heart is pumping, my adrenaline rushing; I know you're hurt and I know who did it. I hear a moan so I creep toward the bedroom, the door is ajar. I push it open and you're lying there on the bed, covered in blood. I cry out, try to rush to you, but before I can even move, he’s on me. After that everything is in slow motion…” Emily struggled to breathe. It was happening right now, right in front of her.
Hotch squeezed her shoulder but it didn’t help. When she closed her eyes, tears fell and she damned them. She damned the whole thing. “He hits me hard with the gun and I see stars. I feel it when he starts to cut me up. I look at you, we’re looking at each other, but we can't reach each other. You’re crying and even though I tell you to be strong, I'm crying for you too and that fucking maniac is laughing the whole time. I just pray that you die before I do so you won't see what he does to me. Oh God, I'm sorry.”
“You're sorry? Emily, you have nothing to be sorry for. I mean that.”
“JJ said I woke up screaming your name tonight. I don’t remember the dream; there are so many now that I can't keep track. I just want them to stop…I'm going to lose my mind. I am so deathly afraid of losing my mind.”
“He didn’t kill me.” Hotch said softly. “He never had any intent of doing that, not even at the end. It would’ve been too easy for me; he wanted me to suffer. He wanted the people who loved me to suffer.”
“I just want to hold onto you, Hotch. I want to protect you and I know that I can't but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to.” Emily looked at him. “I'm sorry if that’s out of line, I just don’t give a damn anymore.”
“It’s not out of line if…” Hotch stopped.
He did mean to keep her at a distance but surely it wasn’t for the reasons that Emily believed. Not that he had ever been clear on anything where Emily Prentiss was concerned. He hadn’t been clear with her or himself. He couldn’t tell her what he was thinking and feeling right now. His heart ached; he wanted to hold onto her as well. He wanted to slay the dragon that kept her trapped in the tower of her nightmares.
They were on a case…the apprehension of this monster was priority number one. Everything had to be second when Hotch was working. Since he was always working there was little time for anything else. The other tiny bits of himself, the pieces George Foyet tried to slice away, those belonged to his son. Hotch had so little left and knew Prentiss was running on empty. As scary as the thought was, perhaps if they combined their powers they could get through this.
He’d been trying not to think about her since that night he came back from Milwaukee. Before he even walked through the front door of an empty house Hotch knew the whole world had changed. Haley was gone and she made it clear she wasn’t coming back. She couldn’t live that life anymore. Haley was gone and Emily was still at his side.
Emily, who sacrificed everything she dreamed to protect him and Gideon. Emily, who could always get to his thoughts even when he thought he closed all the windows and doors. Emily, who found him in the hospital and refused to leave his side all night. She told him that he wasn’t alone but it seemed as if she was. That thought broke Hotch’s heart. Haley was gone for real this time, taken from this world by a maniac hell bent on revenge.
Hotch refused to lose Emily to Foyet too. He moved his hand from her shoulder, moving it over hers resting on her knee. His fingers slid easily through hers and he locked them together. A sound came from Emily’s throat, maybe it was a gasp he wasn’t sure. Hotch only knew that he heard it.
“I have nightmares too.” He said. “Some nights I'm terrified to sleep, I know you're close and I want to come to you. I'm not sure if it’s for the right reasons.”
“What the hell are the right reasons?” Emily asked. She was still staring out into the night. She didn’t want to look at Hotch, was afraid how she would react. She held onto him though. Right now nothing would make her let go.
“I've spent so many years trying not to feel what I feel that I don’t even know anymore. I just know that the idea of you…you need to sleep Emily. This case may get harder; I need your head in the game. You're one of my best profilers and I need you.”
“I know.” She replied through clenched teeth. It was always about the goddamn case. He didn’t care about her, just the work. “I can do my job, Hotch.”
“You don’t think I know that? I just don’t want anything happening to you out there because you're exhausted.”
Emily nodded but didn’t say anything. It was tough but she’d get through it. She always got through it. She would rearrange the boxes in her mind; restack, reassemble, and reload. This was a process Emily Prentiss was well acquainted with.
“When I returned to the BAU after my leave of absence I put in a request for a two-week leave for my team. We need it. We’re always on the go; taking the toughest cases. Erin Strauss granted the request.”
“She really must be trying to get into heaven.” Emily replied with a smirk. “You think I can ask her for a car.”
“She knows we work hard, whether we butt heads or not. Our work and our success rate in the field can't be denied. Neither can our fatigue. When this case is over, we’re all taking some much-deserved time off. It’s not as if we haven’t racked up the vacation time. I think Rossi still has some from his first stint in the BAU.”
“I wouldn’t even know what to do with time off, Hotch.”
“You'll come to British Columbia with Jack and I.”
“I'm sorry?” Now Emily looked at him. She looked at Hotch, looked down at their joined hands, and back at him. He couldn’t have said what she thought he said.
“We’ll just run away. Its not forever, just for a couple of weeks. My stepfather has a cabin near Whistler and its beautiful there. It’s right on the water. You need space to breathe and think. It won't solve the world’s problems but its something. Jack has already packed his bags. We all need to get away.”
“And you want me to come with you?” She was still wrapping her mind around what he was asking.
“Yes.” Hotch nodded.
“I have to admit hearing the words run away with me never sounded so tempting.”
“Then say yes, Emily.”
She wanted to, more than anything. They'd been here before though, hadn’t they? Hotch would open the door just a little, like after that three day weekend she spent with him after he lost his protection detail to budget cuts. Emily would peer in and the door would slam in her face. She was tired of nursing the wounds. Now was definitely not the time to take another beating.
“I’ll think about it.” She replied.
“Yeah, of course.” Hotch couldn’t hide the disappointment in his voice.
That was better than no but not by much. Of course he had some nerve thinking she was just going to jump on it. Emily had every right to be cautious…he had given and taken away so much in the past. That was when he managed to pay attention to her at all.
He wanted to make it up to her. He didn’t quite know how and didn’t want this to be a case of him owing her anything. It was more than that, it always had been. He needed to get her away from this to make her see; to make himself see.
“I need to get some sleep.” Emily stood up. She held onto his hand for a bit longer before her fingers slowly slipped away. “Morning will be here faster than any of us want. I hope another crime scene isn’t waiting for us.”
“We’re going to figure this out.” Hotch stood as well. “He can't hide from us for much longer. Tomorrow we jump back in with both feet. Goodnight, Emily.”
“Goodnight.”
Before she could walk away, Hotch pulled her into a hug. Feeling his body against hers sent the last of her resolve and their brick wall crumbling. They were holding on now…both silently vowing not to let go. With no more words passing between them, they went to Hotch’s room. If they fell into their dreams together perhaps the monsters wouldn’t come. If they did, two were always better in battle than one. Together, Hotch and Prentiss were surely unstoppable, dreaming and awake.