Work Text:
Emily’s fingers twitch between Aaron’s as she starts waking up.
He gently places his other hand on top of hers, warming her cold skin as her eyes flutter open. She winces at the bright lights, a low groan escaping her as she turns her head and meets his eyes.
“Hi,” Aaron smiles, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand as her lashes flutter. Emily tugs at her left hand, and, finding it occupied, lifts her right to rub at her eyes.
“Salut.” She mumbles, her voice scratchy but familiar; the rasp in the back of her throat first thing in the morning. She drops her hand and her bloodshot eyes meet Aaron’s, “Puis-je avoir de l’eau s’il-te-plaît?”
This really shouldn’t have been so surprising. Aaron lets go of her hand and leans forward to softly brush her bangs out of her eyes. “English, please, sweetheart,” he murmurs, sweeping the messy hair over her brows. Emily pouts and he smiles, saving the mental image for later. “What do you want, Em? Tell me.”
Her brows knot together. She swallows and stares off into the distance, channeling all her energy into thinking. Her lips purse and she frowns, cocking her head.
Four seconds later she turns to him, finally back from her trance. “Water.” She rasps.
Aaron grabs the water bottle from the table next to her bed. He opens it and keeps his hand under hers, guiding the bottle to her lips with her fingers on top of his. With a few gulps, her grogginess disappears, a familiar light returning to her eyes as she pushes the bottle away, her lips replenished to a rosy pink.
“How are you feeling?” Aaron asks, dropping the bottle back on the table.
“Itchy.” She complains. “Can I have m’clothes back?”
“After the nurse checks your vitals.” Aaron tells her. Emily frowns, though whether her disapproval is aimed at him or the gown—or the nurse—he doesn’t know.
“Am I only wearin’ underwear under this?” She grabs the material of her hospital gown and pulls at the neckline, sticking her head in and glaring down at her body.
“I’m afraid so,” Aaron laughs softly, his brows raising at her antics. The doctor has warned him of this, but Aaron thought she’d be in the clear; she’d been exposed to anesthesia more times than any of them can count, in their line of work. But even she’s not immune.
The French should’ve been his first sign.
“It’s itchin’ my boobs.” Emily says bluntly. She tugs further at the gown and drags it away from her body. It pools halfway down her chest, exposing the swells of her breasts.
“They do tend to do that,” Aaron chokes back another laugh, trying his best to sound reasonable. He leans forward and adjusts the wilting hospital gown, bringing it back over Emily’s shoulders.
“Hey.” She juts her lip out in a petulant pout. Aaron can’t help but think she looks remarkably like a pre-tantrum Olivia.
“Just for a little longer, sweetheart,” he consoles, thinking it’s not wise for her décolletage to be out when the nurse should arrive at any minute, “I got you that sweater of mine to wear after we can get you out of this.”
Her eyes light up. Emily smiles, dimples popping out in her cheeks as she bites her lip between her teeth. “The orange one?” She asks hopefully.
“The one and only.” Aaron says.
She grins wider. “That one doesn’ itch my boobs,” she slurs happily, apparently satisfied.
“It doesn’t itch mine, either,” Aaron tells her solemnly, fighting the urge to smile when she breaks out in giggles. The sound is sweet, carefree, something he only gets to hear when she’s under the influence, and he bottles it up to save for later.
“Y’don’t have any!” She slaps her hand over his mouth, as if to stop any more blasphemy from escaping. Emily’s eyes drop from his and she gasps when she catches sight of her rings.
“¡Dios mío!” She slaps her other hand over her own mouth. “’m married?” Her voice is muffled through her palm, her eyes comically wide as she looks up at him again.
Aaron grins. He takes her hand off his mouth and runs his thumb over the cool metal of her rings. “To yours truly.” He confirms.
“When did tha’ happen?” She asks, her voice breathless with awe.
“July 8, 2014.” Aaron answers immediately. “Dave’s backyard. We ate cake for breakfast the next morning, remember?” His voice is soft as he tucks some of her wild hair behind her ear.
Emily shakes her head and looks down at her hand. She touches the diamonds of her ring, her lips stretching into a grin, “You gave me a pretty ring.”
“It was the least I could do.” Aaron says earnestly.
Emily giggles again, her cheeks tinting pink. She rests her elbow on the railing of her bed and sets her chin in her palm, her eyes scanning him up and down.
“Anybody ever tell you you’re hot?” She grins, cheshire-wide and lopsided, her dimples flashing.
Aaron laughs. He takes her hand and kisses her knuckles. Emily flushes bright red as he looks up at her, linking his fingers through hers. “You tell me all the time.”
Not in so many words, but still.
Emily nods, “I know what I’m talkin’ about.” She says sagely, the color still high on her cheeks. With the meek strength of their two-year-old daughter, she tugs his arm—and consequently him—closer to her. “What else do I tell you, Aaron?”
Her attempted sultry voice fails miserably. With her slurry words, blown out pupils, and tangled mess of hair, she rather looks like the sleepy version of his wife who cusses him out when he tries to wake her in the mornings.
Aaron chews on the inside of his cheek, holding back another laugh. “You tell me I’m a sap.” He offers.
Emily’s brows furrow. “Why’d I do that?”
Aaron gives an exaggerated shrug. “Because apparently I love you too much. Can you believe that?” He murmurs, hooking a gentle finger under her chin. “As if such a thing is possible.” His nose gently bumps against hers.
Emily’s breath hitches. Her mouth draws into a pink ‘o’ as Aaron’s thumb skims across her jaw.
“So,” she inhales sharply, her eyes steadily growing wider, “if y’re my husband, that means you can kiss me. Right?”
Aaron smiles. “Right,” he agrees.
Emily places her thumb on his lip. Her gaze follows her finger as she traces it over his mouth, his warm breaths hitting her skin. “Kiss me, then.” She whispers.
Aaron’s only too happy to oblige. He leans further over the handles of her bed and gently takes her cheek in his palm, smiling a little at her saucer-wide eyes before kissing her.
She’s slow to respond, a little messy as she clutches his shirt, but her lips feel like they always do; like home. When Aaron leans back, her pupils are blown so wide, all he can see is a thin ring of brown in a sea of black.
“Y’re good at that.” Emily breathes. Her bangs are knocked askew, messily hanging over her dark eyes.
Aaron grins. “I’ve had a lot of practice. You’re very good at telling me what you like and what you don’t like,” he muses, brushing the bangs away from her eyes. She needs to cut them soon, he thinks absently.
“I like you.” She says decidedly.
“You have no idea how happy I am to hear that.” Aaron murmurs. He drops a kiss on her cold forehead. “Admittedly, I did have my doubts. But then you agreed to marry me and I figured you’d have to like me to do that, right?” His tone is teasing, his lips curved, but there are no wrinkles in the corners of her eyes, no dimples in his cheeks.
Emily’s brows furrow. “D’you always have doubts like that?” She tilts her head, peering at him intently.
Even high off her ass, she still sees right through him.
Aaron huffs out a humorless laugh. “Sometimes. Sometimes it’s hard to believe you’d want anything to do with me,” he admits quietly.
Emily scrunches her nose, “Well, I don’ do anythin’ I don’t wanna do. So if I married ya, I did it for good reason.” Her tone is firm, even as her voice slurs. A smile ghosts across Aaron’s lips as she loosely tangles her fingers with his.
“I bet the sex is good.”
That makes him laugh; a deep belly laugh that makes his dimples dig deep into his cheeks and his eyes wrinkle at the corners. The sound is warm and wonderful, filling the corners of the desolate hospital room.
Emily gasps. “I made you laugh!” Her eyes are wide with delight, shimmering like stars in the unending night sky. “Ya don’t laugh all that often, Hotch.”
“Aaron,” he corrects gently. The large hospital gown slips off Emily’s shoulder as she shrugs and he leans forward to fix it, his fingers gentle as he covers her pale skin again. “And I always laugh with you.” He can’t help himself from pressing a small kiss to her lips.
It was meant to be chaste, a soft brush of their mouths, but Emily slides her hand into the short hair at the nape of his neck and keeps him close to her. Her nose bumps into his and Aaron smiles as they break apart, Emily’s eyes comically wide.
“Can we do that lots?” She whispers.
The childish innocence in her eyes tugs at his heart, as if she doesn’t know they’ve kissed countless times, the press of his lips against hers one of the only places he finds solace.
“We can do that as many times as you want.” Aaron reassures.
Emily beams at him and leans forward eagerly. Her lips have just touched his when someone knocks on the door. A nurse walks in without waiting for an answer, her smile warm.
“Hi Mrs. Hotchner, I’m just here to check your vitals. Have you been feeling okay?” She shuts the door behind her and approaches the bed.
Emily pouts and crosses her arms. “I was kissin’ my hot husband.” She says, as seriously as she’s ever said anything.
“I’m very sorry for interrupting,” the nurse grins as Aaron’s cheeks turn an alarming shade of red, “but after I check your vitals, you’ll be all free to go and kiss him as much as you like. Doesn’t that sound nice?” She soothes as she unravels her stethoscope from around her neck.
Scowling, Emily nods reluctantly. Aaron moves back to settle properly into his chair and she grabs his hand, frowning deeper. “Reste près de moi.”
Aaron’s own frown snaps her out of it. “I don’t—”
“Stay close,” she murmurs.
Understanding dawns on his face. “I’m right here, Em.” He squeezes her hand tightly. Settling on the edge of his chair, he keeps his hand in hers and lightly distracts her as the nurse does her job.
After taking her bag of medication and having the nurse repeat her instructions twice, Aaron finally frees Emily from her itchy torment and brings out her change of clothes. He lays out the loungewear she’d insisted on and holds out his hands to help her to the edge of the bed. She lets him help her up, however when he takes her—his, really—sweatshirt, she snatches it out of his hands.
Aaron frowns. “Em, let me.”
Emily certainly hadn’t forgotten her stubbornness. “I’m a capable woman.” She says, reaching her arms back to untie the knot holding her gown together. She moves too abruptly; Emily hisses as the movement pulls on her stitches.
“Careful.” Aaron murmurs. He reaches for the sweater and blows out a breath when Emily holds it away from him.
“I can do it, Aaron,” she pouts as she shoves the hospital gown away. Her movements are slow as she unfolds the sweater and guides her hand into it, but Aaron steps back reluctantly and watches. He arches his brows as she raises her arms to get the sweater over her head, the movement pulling on her stitches again.
“Emily,” Aaron sighs when she winces. “Let me help, baby.”
“’m okay,” she persists, setting her arms down and painstakingly bunching up the sleeve of her sweater, “don’ need helpin’.”
It certainly didn’t look like it. Emily winces again and Aaron steps closer, placing a hand on her elbow. “If you let me help you, we’ll get home faster. And I know the kids miss you.” He’s playing dirty, but she stills, letting him guide her arm through the sleeve as she looks up at him.
“Kids?” Emily murmurs, her eyes growing unfocused. Her hand escapes out of the sleeve and she snaps her fingers, “Jacky and Livvy and Eli!” She beams.
Aaron smiles. “Yeah. You don’t want them to wait longer than they have already, do you?” His voice is gentle as he coaxes her other arm through the sleeve. Emily shakes her head and complies after that, letting Aaron help her head through the collar and guide her sweatpants up her legs.
She sways when she stands and Aaron wraps a firm arm around her waist as they walk out of the hospital, knowing that a wheelchair was absolutely out of the question. To her credit, Emily takes small steps with her fingers twisted in his shirt, anchoring herself to him as they head back to the car.
In the car, she speaks a steady slur of Spanglish and cuddles Aaron’s free arm, resting her cheek on his bicep as he drives. Her eyes have just started to grow heavy when Aaron pulls into their driveway, and the familiar sight of home is enough to make her blink away the exhaustion.
Aaron keeps his arm around her shoulders as they walk to the house. She leans her head against his shoulder as he turns the key in the lock, but once he pushes the door open and the chaos of two energetic toddlers spills out to greet them, she perks up instantly.
Emily tries to pull out of his grip and Aaron holds her tighter as he shuts the door. “Slowly, Em,” he moves his arm to her waist as she scrunches her face in displeasure, “you heard what the nurse said.”
“She was sayin’ bullshit,” Emily mumbles.
Her face lights up when they finally enter the living room, her smile wide despite the mess. Olivia and Elliot are drowning in a sea of blankets, their heads pressed against each other’s, and Jack has his head cushioned on a pillow as he attacks his Nintendo, completely uninterested in the cartoon playing on TV.
“Babies!” Emily gasps.
Her loud voice grabs their attention, directing it away from the TV and to her loopy smile. She grins as Olivia and Elliot jump up from the couch, their faces lighting up.
“Mama!”
They barrel towards her in a blur of wild hair and tiny flailing limbs, but Aaron bends down and scoops them up before they crash into her legs.
“Hey guys,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to each soft cheek, “remember we said to be careful with Mommy?”
“They don’ needta be.” Emily’s fingers dig into his bicep as she leans against him to peer at the twins. “Hi,” she grins, reaching a hand out to steady Olivia when she almost spills out of Aaron’s arms, right into Emily’s.
Aaron tightens his grip on the wriggly toddlers. He can feel Emily gathering his sleeve between her fingers, her grip tight as she stops herself from leaning against him. Peering between the excitedly babbling toddlers, he catches sight of Jack, still immersed in his game.
“Jack, help your mom to the couch please.”
Emily blows a raspberry, waving her hand exaggeratedly as Jack approaches. “He’s silly. I don’t need helpin’.”
“You’re talking a little funny,” Jack comments as he gently wraps his arms around her waist. Emily presses a kiss to his forehead and hums. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks worriedly.
“’m fine, baby. They jus’ gave me the good stuff,” she giggles as Jack helps her take small steps to the couch. Aaron follows behind them, the kids in his arms only slightly calmed down as he sits down next to Emily and Jack on the couch.
He finally lets go of them and they scramble out of his lap and into Emily’s, babbling excitedly to her about Auntie Penny and Peppa Pig.
“Careful with Mommy,” Aaron warns. He carefully watches her face for any sign of discomfort as they cuddle into her sides. Emily shifts them away from her stomach and wraps her arms around their small bodies.
“Hi babes. You’re so cute,” she croons happily, pressing her nose against Olivia’s. The little girl giggles as Emily kisses her cheek repeatedly. “Y’re definitely my kids.” She grins and ruffles Elliot’s hair.
Turning her head, Emily’s hazy eyes meet Jack’s. “Hi Jacky.” She sighs, pressing her finger to the tip of his nose, “Y’re hella cute, too.” She murmurs, grinning when Elliot parrots her words back, down to her still heavy slur.
“Hella cute.” He says happily.
Emily laughs; Aaron sighs.
“You’re back!” Penelope walks out of the kitchen, three plates of sliced fruit carried precariously in her hands. “How’s my little gumdrop?” She asks, her eyes scanning her friend worriedly as she sets the plates down on the coffee table.
“Hi, Pen,” Emily giggles, then grimaces. “Ow,” she pouts, wrapping an arm around her stomach, “startin’ to hurt.”
She turns to Aaron with her lip jutted, her eyes pleading. “Can ya kiss it better?”
Jack audibly rolls his eyes. Penelope holds back a squeak. The twins are blissfully unbothered as Aaron smiles and leans over them to whisper in her ear, “I think the drugs will be more effective, sweetheart.”
He gives her the pills they gave him at the hospital, but she claims the pain doesn’t go away until he brings two fingers to his lips and lightly presses them on her abdomen, her bandages lumpy beneath his sweatshirt.
Secretly, Aaron wishes this side of her could last forever.