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Emily knows something is wrong the moment her phone rings.
It’s late. She’s getting ready for bed, halfway through her skincare routine, wearing a pair of pyjama pants and an old t-shirt of Aaron’s, when she hears her cell phone in the bedroom. She frowns, furrowing her brow when she checks the time on her watch.
Aaron never called this late when he was away on a case, not without texting first to make sure she was still awake, even if he was still on the same coast like he was now. It was a habit he’d picked up shortly after she left the BAU for Interpol’s DC office, the first case he’d worked without her by his side. He was in California, and in his desire to talk to her, driven by missing her as much as he did, he forgot about the 3-hour time difference and scared the crap out of her when he called at gone midnight in DC.
The sound of her phone ringing makes her shoulders straighten, her back pulled in tight by a corset of pre-emptive grief and panic, something only made worse when she runs into the bedroom to grab her phone and sees JJ’s name flashing on the screen. She knew about JJ and Aaron’s arrangement, how they’d agreed he’d call Will if something was wrong, and she’d call Emily, and it makes her lungs cramp, the ability to breathe stolen from her for a second before she presses the screen to accept the call.
“JJ,” she breathes out, “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”
JJ sighs, and Emily can hear the bustle of the hospital in the background, the beeps of machines and chatter from the people around her friend. She can all but smell the antiseptic, too many memories hitting her all at once of being in a hospital as her life, or the life of someone she cared about, hanging in the balance, “Emily…”
“Just tell me,” she says, sitting on the edge of the bed, Aaron’s side of the bed, “Please don’t…” she clears her throat, “Just tell me.”
“Hotch was shot,” JJ says, and Emily closes her eyes, one hand holding the phone to her ear, the other grasping the comforter he’d helped her change the cover on just days ago, “He’s in surgery.”
“Is it…how bad is it?”
JJ swallows thickly, “Bad enough,” she replies, the sympathy in her voice a knife to Emily’s chest, the sharp edge of it catching on the heart Aaron had helped her fix, “The hospital asked if they should call you, but I said I would. They’ll be in touch if they need you to make any decisions.”
“I need to get there. It should only take four hours to get to New York at this time of night,” Emily says, standing up, wedging her phone between her ear and her shoulder, clenching her fists so her hands won’t shake because she doesn’t have time to fall apart, not yet. She pauses, frozen in place as she reaches the closet, “Jack…” she drifts off, guilt flooding her lungs for forgetting about the little boy asleep just down the hall, “Jack’s asleep, I can’t just leave,” she covers her face with her hand, presses tears she can’t shed yet back into her eyes as she blows out a shaky breath, “What should I do, JJ? Should I wake him up and get him in the car? Should I let him sleep and leave in the morning? I…I don’t know what to do.”
It’s the first time since she became an integral part of the Hotchners’ lives that she feels like she’s being pulled in two directions. Aaron needed her; he was hurt and in surgery, and she needed to get to his side, but Jack needed her, too. Needed someone to be his steady ground as he walked down a path he’d walked before.
“Stay there,” JJ says, her voice too kind, “Come in the morning, but let him sleep for now,” she says, “I’d tell you to get some sleep too, but I know it’s pointless.”
Emily chuckles, the sound catching in her throat, snagging on the anticapory grief that had taken residence there, something she knew wouldn’t shift until he was okay, until she saw him with her own eyes, “Call me with updates?”
“Of course.”
Emily nods even though her friend can’t see her, and she wipes her cheek, pushing away the one tear that had fallen without her permission, “We’re buying a house, JJ. We picked out the flooring two days ago.”
She doesn’t know why she says it, why she’s even thought it, but it’s a future that had seemed so certain just a few days ago. A picture she’d painted in her mind, the colours vivid and bright now fading away, bleeding through the canvas she thinks she should have known better than to trust.
“I know, Em,” JJ says, “I’ll let you know when he’s out of surgery.”
“Thank you,” she replies, blowing out a shaky breath, “Make sure he isn’t alone when he wakes up, okay? He’ll never admit it, but he’s hated hospitals since Foyet and…if I can’t be there,” she clears her throat, “I’ll be there as soon as I can when Jack wakes up, but make sure he isn’t alone.”
“I’ll sit with him, I promise,” she assures her, “I’ll call as soon as I have an update.”
“Thank you.”
“He’d do the same for me.”
Emily sits on the bed, her phone in her hand for the rest of the night, one of Aaron’s pillows hugged against her chest, her eyes fixed on a stream of light that slowly sneaks in through the curtains as another day starts. A new dawn she wasn’t sure she wanted to see.
___
By the time she and Jack leave for the hospital in New York, Aaron is awake. She’d spoken to him just before they set off, and Jack had too, his eyes shining as she snuggled against Emily as he spoke to his father over the phone.
Emily knew they’d both feel better once they saw him, so she’d called work and Jack’s school and told them as much as they needed to know, so they knew neither of them would be there for a few days. She packs their bags, and one for Aaron too, and bundles them into the car, oddly grateful that she wouldn’t be facing the drive alone. Jack is quiet, subdued as he stares out the window as the New York skyline slowly starts to come into view.
“You okay, Jack?” She asks, casting a glance at him in the rearview mirror, “If you need to stop to use the bathroom or get something to eat, we can.”
He shakes his head, “No, I’m okay,” he says, tightening his hold on the stuffed dog in his arms, “I just want to see Daddy.”
Emily nods, “Me too, kiddo,” she says, “We’ll have to be careful with him, he’ll be sore.”
Jack hums, “Emily?”
“Yes, sweetie,” she replies, casting another glance in the rearview mirror at him, concern simmering low in her gut, sitting on top of everything else she was already feeling, at the worry on his face, “You can ask me anything, you know that.”
“If…if Daddy dies, will I still get to live with you at the house?”
Whatever she thought he was going to ask, it wasn’t that, and she hates it’s something he has thought about, something he knows to think about. It was a thought that had crossed her mind at some point in the night as she tried to figure out how to tell Jack that his one remaining parent was in the hospital. She thought about the worst case scenario, a world in which Aaron would die and she’d be left with an empty house they’d bought together. She had no rights over Jack, not legally. It was something they’d spoken about in passing, something they said they’d organise with their lawyer once the house sale was finalised, but if she lost him now, she’d lose them both, and the thought alone was enough to make the world slip away from under her feet,
She tightens her grip on the steering wheel. “He’s not going to die, Jack,” she says, trying to change the conversation’s direction. “You spoke to him earlier, he’s okay.”
“This time,” Jack says, “But this isn’t the first time he’s been hurt. What if it happens again? If he dies, I don’t want to live with someone else. I want to live with you.”
She pulls the car over, grateful she’s somewhere where she can, and she parks up, turning in her seat to look at him properly. She reaches out and places her hand on his knee, squeezing in a way she hopes is comforting.
“We’ll make sure it’s all sorted,” She says, smiling softly, “If…” she clears her throat to remove the shake in it, “If anything does happen, nothing is going to come between you and me, okay?” She says, and he nods, “It’s you and me, kid, forever.”
“I love you, Emily.”
“I love you too, Jack,” she says, squeezing his knee again, “Now, shall we go see him? Tell him off for worrying us so much?”
He beams at the thought of being able to tell Aaron off, and it pulls a chuckle out of her, and she turns back to face the front of the car, blowing out a slow breath before she turns the engine back on. They don’t stop at the hotel she’d booked in the middle of the night when they arrive, instead choosing to head straight for the hospital. Jack holds her hand tightly as they walk through the hallways until they find the room they’d been directed to.
When they walk in, Aaron is awake, although clearly in pain, and talking to JJ, who stands from the seat near his bed the moment the door opens.
“Daddy!” Jack exclaims as he runs over, clambering onto the bed.
“Remember what I said, Jack,” Emily says, purposely staying back for a moment so Jack and Aaron could have a moment together, “Be careful.”
Jack nods and hugs Aaron, making sure he’s achingly gentle before he pulls back, his eyebrows furrowing, “You worried us.”
“Sorry, buddy. I’ll try not to do it again,” Aaron huffs out a laugh and then winces, casting a glance at Emily, seeing the exhaustion in her eyes and the way she was barely holding herself together, “Can you do something for me?” He asks, and Jack nods, “Can you go with Aunt JJ to the cafeteria and get Emily a cup of tea?”
He throws JJ a look, a moment passing between the two of them that makes Emily think they’d discussed this before they arrived, and JJ offers her hand out to the little boy, who takes it.
“Come on,” she encourages, helping him down off the bed, “I was there earlier, and they had some amazing looking cookies.”
JJ squeezes Emily’s shoulder on the way past, throwing her a wink, and then it’s just Emily and Aaron left in the room. She stands frozen in place by the door, and Aaron smiles at her, his gaze a little hazier than usual, something brought on by painkillers and the pain they were taking the edge off.
“Sweetheart,” he says, offering a hand out to her, “Come here.”
She blows out a shaky breath and walks over, sitting on the edge of the bed, wrapping her hand around his, “You scared the shit out of me. That was the longest night of my life.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, squeezing her hand, “Next time, I’ll try and get shot a little closer to home.”
She chokes on a laugh and shakes her head at him, leaning in to kiss him, an edge of desperation to it that he can taste before she pulls back just enough to press her face into his neck. She breathes him in, focuses on the warmth of his skin, the beat of his pulse. The fact that he was still here with her.
“You smell like hospital.” She says, her breath shuddering from her chest into his. He hums and kisses the top of her head.
“And you smell like home.” He replies, and she pulls away to look at him, “I am sorry,” he says, reaching up to push some of her hair from her face, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she says, grabbing his hand and linking their fingers together, kissing his knuckles as she drags their hands to his lips, “We need to do the guardianship paperwork for Jack soon,” she says, kissing his knuckles again, “He asked me…he asked if you died what would happen to him, and right now I don’t have an answer for him that I like.”
Aaron nods and encourages her closer, pulling her in because he didn’t have the strength to sit up yet, “I’ll call the lawyer as soon as we’re home.”
“Thank you.”
He shakes his head, “No, thank you. For loving me and my son. Our son.”
She smiles at him, and leans in to kiss him, a little less desperation in it this time, and then she leans her forehead against his, “You never have to thank me for loving the two of you, Aaron. It’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”