Written kwa Ilovetvalot.
In a Heartbeat
In a heartbeat, life as wewe know it can be ripped away from you. In a heartbeat, everything can change, leaving wewe shaken and questioning everything wewe ever knew. In a heartbeat, the life wewe had can come crashing to an abrupt halt, irrevocably altering everything wewe see.
That’s how fast it happened to him. Aaron Hotchner.
In a heartbeat.
Now, the only time he ever felt anything comparable to normal was with her. This dark beauty that had been slowly, steadily working him towards his recovery. She wouldn’t give up. Wouldn’t surrender him to the tide of his own misery. She steadfastly refused to walk away, no matter how many times he told her to go. He’d begged, pled, screamed and threatened. All to no avail. Every single day, she came back for zaidi of his abuse. And for the life of him, he couldn’t comprehend what she saw worth saving.
He brought danger to those he touched. Incomprehensible danger. He’d seen his tormenter’s handy work. Hell, he’d felt it. Each time that cold steel had plunged into his body, he’d felt it. But, that wasn’t even the true violation. No, not even close. That had happened when the bastard…that George Foyet…had found a path into Hotch’s psyche, finding his worst fear and exploiting it to his full advantage. The idea that his son would never be safe…his only crime to be born to the wrong father…had slowly eaten away at an already decaying soul.
But she was determined not to let the feast continue. His Emily.
Sometimes he wondered if her sheer determination would kill her au him. It was a quality that up until now, he’d always admired. Now, it was the only thing keeping him from losing his mind…and he wasn’t sure if he loved au hated her for that.
Glancing at the clock on the wall, he knew she’d be here soon. Today would be a good siku kwa her standards. He’d managed to actually force himself into the kuoga and clean clothes before she’d arrived. It would make her happy. And, just lately, seeing her smile had become one of the very few things that gave him pleasure of any kind anymore.
As if his mind could conjure her physical presence, Hotch jerked as he heard a key scratching in the lock. sekunde later, he watched as Emily dragged herself through his door. Her normally purposeful step absent, instead she seemed to sag slightly as she trudged into the small foyer, closing the door behind her with a muffled slam.
“Emily?” he questioned as she turned and he met her weary eyes. Pushing himself off the kitanda slowly, his wounds still reminding him that sudden movements weren’t advisable, he walked toward her, following her into the kitchen.
“What do wewe feel like tonight, Hotch?” she asked, dumping her bag on a jikoni chair as she turned to pull open a jikoni cabinet, not meeting his eyes.
Okay, something was off…there’d been no greeting…no smile. Nothing. Just utter weariness and desolation in her tone as she’d asked her sole swali of the evening.
“Emily, what’s wrong?” Hotch frowned, noting her stiff movements as she pulled spaghetti, tambi noodles from his jikoni cabinet.
“Nothing,” Emily shook her head, reaching for a hanging sufuria over the stove and filling it with water at the sink. “How was your day?” she asked softly.
“My siku was the same as it has been for the last three weeks. Right now, I’m zaidi concerned about your day, Emily,” Hotch alisema evenly, weighing his words as he watched her stiffly lower the pot to the stove’s burner.
Closing her eyes as she felt Hotch’s strong hand cover hers, moving the pot off the burner, she heard him reach around her to click off the stove.
“Supper will wait, Emily,” Hotch alisema from behind her. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“It was just a long day,” she alisema shortly. There was no way she was going to burden this man with something that would seem trivial to him now. Not that death was a trivial thing, but when your child was on the line, the death of three women might pale in comparison.
“Cut it out, Emily,” Hotch alisema deeply from behind her. Spinning her gently around to look in her dark eyes, he leaned forward. “I’m not going to drop it so wewe might as well save yourself some time here.”
“You’re on medical leave,” Emily retorted. “You should be resting.”
“This, coming from the woman that’s spent three weeks trying to get me OFF the couch,” Hotch retorted with a roll of his eyes. “Start talking, Prentiss,” he ordered, his tone implacable.
From his posture, Emily didn’t need any special profiling skills to easily read his intention to take root in front of her until she confided in him.
“Did wewe guys catch a case?” Hotch asked, trying to prod her into talking as he watched the indecision flash in her dark eyes. “Christ, Emily, I’m not gonna break if wewe talk to me about work,” he sighed.
“Consultation gone wrong,” Emily finally blurted.
“Okay,” he drawled, guiding her to a jikoni chair. “Now, sit down and tell me how wrong,” he urged.
“Remember the profaili I gathered for that strangler on Boston University’s campus?” she asked quietly, staring at her hands as she heard the central heat kick on inside the small apartment.
“Yeah, wewe sent it up the week before…before…,” Hotch stumbled. Licking his lips, he cleared his throat and straightened his spine as he said, “Before Foyet’s attack.”
Hating the struggle in his eyes, Emily shook her head and started to rise. “We don’t need to talk about this.”
Grabbing her arm, Hotch shook his head. “Hey, I got my words out. Keep going. I did,” he dared.
Blowing out a deep breath, Emily let him pull her down back into her chair. “They blew it off, Hotch. Totally disregarded it. It didn’t come from wewe au Rossi, so…”
“They ignored your warning,” Hotch stated with a resigned quietness.
“Three zaidi dead women,” Emily nodded. “They called us back today…Rossi read them the riot act, but…” Emily tried to say as her throat tightened.
“But three innocent women died because of someone else’s stupidity,” Hotch sighed, almost tangibly feeling her pain.
“Yes,” Emily whispered. “And some days…I don’t know why I keep going back for more,” she said, her words echoing in the quiet kitchen.
“YOU did your job, Emily. wewe can’t make someone else listen if they don’t want to hear,” Hotch consoled, reaching across the meza, jedwali to take her hand in his. How many times had she done just that for him over the last several weeks? Taken his hand in hers and willed the world to stop causing him pain.
“There are days when that hardly feels like enough,” Emily confessed, staring down at their joined hands.
“If it was all wewe could do, then it was enough,” Hotch told her quietly.
“You might remember those words and say them back to yourself every now and again,” Emily replied, smiling gently at him as her eyes met his.
“I’ll try if wewe will,” Hotch bargained softly, tightening his fingers around her hand.
Emily nodded as Hotch opened his mouth, abruptly closing it again a scant moment later. “What were wewe going to say?” she asked, tilting her head as she looked at his perplexed face.
“I need to say something to you…but what I’ve got to say, I haven’t alisema very often…not nearly enough, at any rate.”
“Well, now you’ve peaked my curiosity,” Emily grinned encouragingly.
Licking his lips, he nodded. “I need to thank you. For everything you’ve done. Everything wewe ARE doing,” he alisema hoarsely, uncomfortable under her penetrating stare. “You didn’t have to do any of this for me, but wewe did. wewe do. Every day, wewe come here and wewe try to make it better for me, no matter how I act. wewe ignore the rage and fury and keep coming. But, I have to ask. Why, Emily?”
“Because you’re worth it,” she alisema simply. “And no matter what wewe do au how wewe act, wewe aren’t going to convince me otherwise,” Emily replied, her words resolute and final.
“Really?” Hotch asked, raising one brow.
“Really,” Emily returned.
“Then it seems that wewe and I have reached an impasse, doesn’t it?” he asked evenly. “The swali becomes who will fold first.”
“I never fold, Hotch. I play right through the pain. wewe ought to have learned that about me kwa now,” Emily alisema calmly, leaning mbele in her seat.
“I think, I might learn to like losing to you, Prentiss,” Hotch replied thoughtfully.
“And I think I’ll take those words as a definite win, Agent Hotchner,” Emily winked, content that if nothing else, this siku had brought this man back one step closer to her. And like most life changing events, it happened in a heartbeat.
In a Heartbeat
In a heartbeat, life as wewe know it can be ripped away from you. In a heartbeat, everything can change, leaving wewe shaken and questioning everything wewe ever knew. In a heartbeat, the life wewe had can come crashing to an abrupt halt, irrevocably altering everything wewe see.
That’s how fast it happened to him. Aaron Hotchner.
In a heartbeat.
Now, the only time he ever felt anything comparable to normal was with her. This dark beauty that had been slowly, steadily working him towards his recovery. She wouldn’t give up. Wouldn’t surrender him to the tide of his own misery. She steadfastly refused to walk away, no matter how many times he told her to go. He’d begged, pled, screamed and threatened. All to no avail. Every single day, she came back for zaidi of his abuse. And for the life of him, he couldn’t comprehend what she saw worth saving.
He brought danger to those he touched. Incomprehensible danger. He’d seen his tormenter’s handy work. Hell, he’d felt it. Each time that cold steel had plunged into his body, he’d felt it. But, that wasn’t even the true violation. No, not even close. That had happened when the bastard…that George Foyet…had found a path into Hotch’s psyche, finding his worst fear and exploiting it to his full advantage. The idea that his son would never be safe…his only crime to be born to the wrong father…had slowly eaten away at an already decaying soul.
But she was determined not to let the feast continue. His Emily.
Sometimes he wondered if her sheer determination would kill her au him. It was a quality that up until now, he’d always admired. Now, it was the only thing keeping him from losing his mind…and he wasn’t sure if he loved au hated her for that.
Glancing at the clock on the wall, he knew she’d be here soon. Today would be a good siku kwa her standards. He’d managed to actually force himself into the kuoga and clean clothes before she’d arrived. It would make her happy. And, just lately, seeing her smile had become one of the very few things that gave him pleasure of any kind anymore.
As if his mind could conjure her physical presence, Hotch jerked as he heard a key scratching in the lock. sekunde later, he watched as Emily dragged herself through his door. Her normally purposeful step absent, instead she seemed to sag slightly as she trudged into the small foyer, closing the door behind her with a muffled slam.
“Emily?” he questioned as she turned and he met her weary eyes. Pushing himself off the kitanda slowly, his wounds still reminding him that sudden movements weren’t advisable, he walked toward her, following her into the kitchen.
“What do wewe feel like tonight, Hotch?” she asked, dumping her bag on a jikoni chair as she turned to pull open a jikoni cabinet, not meeting his eyes.
Okay, something was off…there’d been no greeting…no smile. Nothing. Just utter weariness and desolation in her tone as she’d asked her sole swali of the evening.
“Emily, what’s wrong?” Hotch frowned, noting her stiff movements as she pulled spaghetti, tambi noodles from his jikoni cabinet.
“Nothing,” Emily shook her head, reaching for a hanging sufuria over the stove and filling it with water at the sink. “How was your day?” she asked softly.
“My siku was the same as it has been for the last three weeks. Right now, I’m zaidi concerned about your day, Emily,” Hotch alisema evenly, weighing his words as he watched her stiffly lower the pot to the stove’s burner.
Closing her eyes as she felt Hotch’s strong hand cover hers, moving the pot off the burner, she heard him reach around her to click off the stove.
“Supper will wait, Emily,” Hotch alisema from behind her. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“It was just a long day,” she alisema shortly. There was no way she was going to burden this man with something that would seem trivial to him now. Not that death was a trivial thing, but when your child was on the line, the death of three women might pale in comparison.
“Cut it out, Emily,” Hotch alisema deeply from behind her. Spinning her gently around to look in her dark eyes, he leaned forward. “I’m not going to drop it so wewe might as well save yourself some time here.”
“You’re on medical leave,” Emily retorted. “You should be resting.”
“This, coming from the woman that’s spent three weeks trying to get me OFF the couch,” Hotch retorted with a roll of his eyes. “Start talking, Prentiss,” he ordered, his tone implacable.
From his posture, Emily didn’t need any special profiling skills to easily read his intention to take root in front of her until she confided in him.
“Did wewe guys catch a case?” Hotch asked, trying to prod her into talking as he watched the indecision flash in her dark eyes. “Christ, Emily, I’m not gonna break if wewe talk to me about work,” he sighed.
“Consultation gone wrong,” Emily finally blurted.
“Okay,” he drawled, guiding her to a jikoni chair. “Now, sit down and tell me how wrong,” he urged.
“Remember the profaili I gathered for that strangler on Boston University’s campus?” she asked quietly, staring at her hands as she heard the central heat kick on inside the small apartment.
“Yeah, wewe sent it up the week before…before…,” Hotch stumbled. Licking his lips, he cleared his throat and straightened his spine as he said, “Before Foyet’s attack.”
Hating the struggle in his eyes, Emily shook her head and started to rise. “We don’t need to talk about this.”
Grabbing her arm, Hotch shook his head. “Hey, I got my words out. Keep going. I did,” he dared.
Blowing out a deep breath, Emily let him pull her down back into her chair. “They blew it off, Hotch. Totally disregarded it. It didn’t come from wewe au Rossi, so…”
“They ignored your warning,” Hotch stated with a resigned quietness.
“Three zaidi dead women,” Emily nodded. “They called us back today…Rossi read them the riot act, but…” Emily tried to say as her throat tightened.
“But three innocent women died because of someone else’s stupidity,” Hotch sighed, almost tangibly feeling her pain.
“Yes,” Emily whispered. “And some days…I don’t know why I keep going back for more,” she said, her words echoing in the quiet kitchen.
“YOU did your job, Emily. wewe can’t make someone else listen if they don’t want to hear,” Hotch consoled, reaching across the meza, jedwali to take her hand in his. How many times had she done just that for him over the last several weeks? Taken his hand in hers and willed the world to stop causing him pain.
“There are days when that hardly feels like enough,” Emily confessed, staring down at their joined hands.
“If it was all wewe could do, then it was enough,” Hotch told her quietly.
“You might remember those words and say them back to yourself every now and again,” Emily replied, smiling gently at him as her eyes met his.
“I’ll try if wewe will,” Hotch bargained softly, tightening his fingers around her hand.
Emily nodded as Hotch opened his mouth, abruptly closing it again a scant moment later. “What were wewe going to say?” she asked, tilting her head as she looked at his perplexed face.
“I need to say something to you…but what I’ve got to say, I haven’t alisema very often…not nearly enough, at any rate.”
“Well, now you’ve peaked my curiosity,” Emily grinned encouragingly.
Licking his lips, he nodded. “I need to thank you. For everything you’ve done. Everything wewe ARE doing,” he alisema hoarsely, uncomfortable under her penetrating stare. “You didn’t have to do any of this for me, but wewe did. wewe do. Every day, wewe come here and wewe try to make it better for me, no matter how I act. wewe ignore the rage and fury and keep coming. But, I have to ask. Why, Emily?”
“Because you’re worth it,” she alisema simply. “And no matter what wewe do au how wewe act, wewe aren’t going to convince me otherwise,” Emily replied, her words resolute and final.
“Really?” Hotch asked, raising one brow.
“Really,” Emily returned.
“Then it seems that wewe and I have reached an impasse, doesn’t it?” he asked evenly. “The swali becomes who will fold first.”
“I never fold, Hotch. I play right through the pain. wewe ought to have learned that about me kwa now,” Emily alisema calmly, leaning mbele in her seat.
“I think, I might learn to like losing to you, Prentiss,” Hotch replied thoughtfully.
“And I think I’ll take those words as a definite win, Agent Hotchner,” Emily winked, content that if nothing else, this siku had brought this man back one step closer to her. And like most life changing events, it happened in a heartbeat.