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The word surgery always sparked panic in her blood. The fact that it’s an outpatient procedure doesn’t ease any of her anxieties, so she chews on her lip and twists her rings around, trying not to tear her cuticles to blood as she waits for Aaron to come out of his cholecystectomy.
“Family of Aaron Hotchner?” A voice rings out.
Emily’s head snaps up. She gets to her feet, the nervous pitter patter of her heart calming slightly when the doctor gives her a reassuring smile.
“Yes,” she clears her dry throat. “Is he okay?” Her nail catches on the skin of her thumb.
The doctor smiles softly. “He’s all done and ready for you to take home.”
Air rushes back into her lungs. “Oh thank fuck,” Emily mutters, blindly following him to the recovery room.
“The surgery went well,” he says, “we didn’t encounter any issues with his scar tissue like we expected.”
Another brick lifts off of Emily’s shoulders. Her relief is enough to make her blur out the blinding lights of the hospital, the overly sterile walls and the scent of antiseptic. Finally the doctor stops in front of a door, but before Emily can lunge in, he starts talking again.
“He shouldn’t be eating any high fat foods for at least a week, and make sure to get him on lots of fluids for the next 24 hours. He also shouldn’t be performing any strenuous activities—biking, jogging, the like. No lifting anything heavy either, for at least a month.”
Emily scoffs at that. The doctor doesn’t hear her.
“Walks are good, just nothing too long, maybe a half hour or so. For the incisions—”
“Oh, don’t worry, we know how to take care of those,” Emily smiles wryly. The doctor’s brows raise and he nods haltingly, clearing his throat before continuing.
“There’s a chance he might’ve taken well to the anesthesia, but if he did it’ll fade in a few hours. A nurse will be in to check his vitals and then you’re all set.”
“Thank you, doctor.” Emily smiles at him, grateful if a little rushed, her hand already on the handle and opening the door before he even leaves.
Her eyes drift to Aaron as the door slams shut behind her. He stirs a little at the sound, brows furrowing but his eyes still shut. Emily walks over to the chair next to his bed and sits down, finally letting out a breath as his lashes flutter.
The white hospital gown washes him out—the sight is more familiar than she’d like—but his chest rises and falls evenly.
She takes his hand in hers. It’s a little cold so she covers her fingers over his, threads them through his own and hears the clink of their rings together.
Emily rubs her thumb over the back of his hand, slowly warming his skin with her own as he starts waking up. It takes a few minutes before he starts shifting awake, coming to with a groan.
She squeezes his fingers as his eyes flutter open blearily. Aaron flinches from the bright lights and turns his head, meeting Emily’s gaze as she rests her chin on the handle of his bed.
“Hey handsome,” she whispers, untangling their fingers to brush the messy hair away from his forehead. “How are you feeling?”
The soft bangs slip against her skin and flop back into his face. Emily smiles and moves to push them behind his ear, but Aaron frowns and moves his head further into the pillow.
“No, I’m married,” he mumbles, shying away from her touch. “I have a wife.” He tries to glare at her, but it has little effect with the way his eyes are dazed, his movements uncoordinated and his voice raspy.
The doctor’s words come back to her suddenly—he might’ve taken well to the anesthesia.
Emily bites back a smile and drops her hand from his hair. She grabs a water bottle from her purse, uncaps it and holds it to his lips. “Oh yeah? What’s your wife’s name, sweetheart?” She asks gently, her voice soft and low.
Aaron frowns at her as he drinks. The expression is so unguarded, so deeply genuine that Emily can’t contain her grin this time. He pushes the bottle away clumsily, a few drops spilling down his chin and onto his hospital gown.
“Tha’s what I call her. She’s m’sweetheart.” He slurs, squinting at her. “You…” He waves his finger in her face. Emily catches it and places his hand back in the bed. “You kinda look like her. Pretty. She has dark eyes like that,” Aaron sighs.
Emily bites her lip. Pretty, huh? “What’s her name?” She asks, fully intending to take advantage of the—rare—situation.
“Em,” he says promptly, his lips turning up in a loopy smile. Dimples dig into his cheeks, deep as she’s ever seen them.
“She’s my Em.” Aaron mumbles. He digs his head into his pillow, messing up his hair further as he looks up at her with glazed eyes. “We’re married and she’s m’wife. Do you have a wife?” His brows raise into his hairline.
Emily chuckles. “No, baby. I have an amazing husband who’s high off his ass right now,” she reaches a hand out and threads her fingers through his hair.
Aaron leans into her touch, instinctive, his lashes fluttering shut when she scratches her nails along his scalp. He lets out a deep groan-sigh before his eyes snap back open again. His honey brown eyes meet Emily’s and she smiles at him, taking his other hand in hers and kissing his knuckles.
“Why’r you touching me if you have a husband?” Aaron frowns deeply, a wrinkle forming between his brows as she twists his ring around. Emily slips her hand out of his hair and presses her thumb to his frown.
“Because he’s you.” She tells him.
Aaron’s eyes widen. His pupils are blown wide, though she’s not sure if that’s because of the drugs or the news. “Nu-uh,” he shakes his head, his hair flopping with the vigorous movement.
“I’d remember it if we were married.” He says confidently. “I couldn’ marry someone as pretty as you.”
Emily’s lips curve upward. “Why’s that?” She whispers.
Aaron looks at her like she’s crazy; as if the answer is glaringly obvious. “’Cause y’d distract me alll the time.” He says, his tone clearly saying duh. “I’d never get anythin’ done. I’m Uni’ Chief, you know,” he tells her solemnly, “I have a very important job.”
“I know you do,” Emily scrunches her nose at him. “It’s how we met, honey. In that god awful office of yours.” She says lightly.
He shakes his head again, firmly in denial as his lips twist downward. “Don’ mess with me,” he frowns. It has about a fourth of the power of a proper Hotch glare.
Emily huffs out a soft laugh. “I’m not messing with you, Aaron.” She gently grabs his left hand and holds it up next to hers. Their rings shine side by side.
“See?” She tells him as he touches her engagement ring. “We’re matching.”
He’s silent for a few seconds, contemplating. He touches his ring and hers, fingers smoothing over the platinum, before he turns to her again. “I’d remember if we were married, though,” his lips jut out in an honest to god pout.
Emily can’t help but laugh, too loud and bright, the tension of almost two hours in the waiting room promptly melting off her shoulders.
“You’ll remember soon, baby, I promise,” she soothes, just barely holding in the urge to kiss his pouted lips. God, she wishes she could snap a picture.
Aaron sighs dreamily, smiling as he reaches for her fingers. “D’you always call me that?”
“What?” Emily tilts her head, a knowing glint in her eyes. “Baby?” She asks.
Aaron flushes. He nods slowly, red crawling up his jaw.
Emily hums. “Only sometimes. You pretend not to like it, but I know you do, sweetheart,” she coos, cupping his face and gently tracing her thumb over his cheekbone. His skin flames beneath her touch.
His cheeks turn a deeper red. “You call me lotsa things,” he mumbles.
Emily grins. “That’s ’cause I love you so much,” she murmurs, leaning over the handle of the bed and kissing his cheek. A medicinal scent lingers on his skin but she ignores it, peppering his cheek with kisses.
“I love you so much and I’m so glad this is fucking over,” she sighs into his skin, pressing her love—and relief—into his dimples.
She feels Aaron melt into the bed, his hand sliding on top of hers as she continues murmuring nonsense, glad to have her highly drugged husband back after hours that passed by slow as honey.
A knock on the door forces her away from him.
A nurse walks in and smiles at them brightly, her eyes kind. “Hi, Mr. Hotchner,” she chirps. “I’m just here to check your vitals and then you’ll be free to go.”
Aaron is surprisingly compliant as the nurse takes his blood pressure, measures his breathing and heart rate. Emily thinks it has something to do with the way he’s shamelessly ogling her. His gaze is hot on her skin as he completely ignores the nurse poking and prodding at him. Meeting his eyes, Emily arches her brow.
Aaron grins.
She sighs.
“Are you feeling any pain, Mr. Hotchner?” The nurse asks when she’s done. His attention goes back to her, lazy and reluctant.
“No,” he mumbles, frowning down at his gown, scratching at the bandages beneath it, “jus’ itchy.”
Emily grabs his hand and forces it away from the wounds, loosely linking their fingers together.
The nurse nods. “That’s perfectly normal. Keep the wound dressing on for today and you can take it off tomorrow, alright? Showering is fine, no hot baths, though.” She turns to Emily, “If he’s in any pain, paracetamol should cover it, but if it continues after that, you should bring him back here.”
“Okay,” Emily nods, hoping she doesn’t sound too eager at the thought of finally leaving. “Thank you so much.” She smiles at her.
The nurse smiles back. “Of course. Have a great day.” She says, slipping back into the hall before Emily can respond.
She sighs as she turns back to Aaron, her smile spreading when she catches him staring at her unabashedly. Again. His eyes drop to her lips and his cheeks tint pink.
She would kill for a camera right now.
Emily grins. “Come on, let’s get you dressed so we can go home. I’m sure the kids have turned the house upside down on JJ.” She untangles their fingers and stands up, holding out her palms to help him up.
Aaron’s mouth drops open, his eyes widening in wonder.
“I have babies with you?” He breathes. A lopsided smile makes its way onto his lips, digging his dimples deep into his cheeks. He beams at her and takes her hands, letting her pull him up to the side of the bed.
It’s Emily’s turn to flush. “You’ll be having more of them if you keep that up,” she mutters.
Aaron grins, his hands going to her waist, stopping her from bending over and grabbing his change of clothes.
“Do they all have your pretty eyes?” He tilts his head up to look at her, his fingers grabbing at her shirt. Her eyes meet his and he sighs dreamily, “Fuck, thy’r so pretty.”
Emily’s body heats. She threads her fingers into his hair and bends down to kiss him. Aaron responds immediately, his lips a little chapped against hers, his hands tightening on her waist; he may momentarily forget marrying her, but he’ll never forget this.
“I hate to disappoint you,” Emily whispers, pressing her lips to the tip of his nose, “but they’ve got my nose.”
Aaron immediately frowns, this time his brows drawing together harshly. “Tha’s ridiculous,” he scolds as best he could. “Your nose is fucking cute.”
Emily laughs brightly, warmth spreading through her body. She kisses the top of his head. “Not as fucking cute as you are right now.” She resists the urge to ruffle his hair and moves out of his hold to grab his clothes.
Aaron smiles at her back as she takes out a shirt and sweatpants from a bag next to the chair. “’Mily?” He mumbles.
Her heart warms at the way he says her name, soft and slurred and like she’s never heard it before; his voice hushed, his usually careful syllables crashing into each other.
“Yeah, honey?”
Aaron grins. “I remember marryin’ you. We ate cake for breakfast the next morning. An’ I had to pay for insurance ’cause we broke the bed—”
“Okay,” Emily laughs, her cheeks heating at the memory. She undoes the tie holding his gown together, slipping it down his chest and bunching up his shirt before guiding his arm through it.
“Let’s hope you’ll remember your airtight filter next,” she teases, stretching out the collar of his shirt to help him poke his head through it. He grins at her when his head is finally free, soft hair all messed up and falling into his eyes.
Though she knows she’ll miss this side of him.