hi everyone keeps asking for all of my fics to be in one (1) single place and so🧍🏻♀️ here they are besties💗💘💓💞💕💖
sour series - a collection of hotchniss fic based around olivia rodrigo’s album sour - all requests:) completed.
in my veins - hotchniss fic - emily is involved in a car accident, hotch is worried she might not make it. sad vibes. tw / blood, car accident, major character deaths, mentions of drugs, mention of suicide, mention of depression&grief. four parts w alternative ending for those who may find the ending triggering :) (also moreid) ao3
anything but love/open season but make it : spicy - hotchniss - emily and morgan are the ones kidnapped in open season, cue worried hotch, protective morgan and past/young hotchniss . (to be continued in part of an . unfinished series lol)
you look happier- unrequited hotchniss and moreid. emily and spencer watch the men they move on without them. tw/ sad :)
hardwired to be with you - hotchniss - hotch spends his birthday surrounded by his family after he and emily retire. pure?? happiness, one could say.
all through the night - hotch is in a building hit by a dirty bomb and gets radiation poisoning. (established hotchniss - season 4 anthrax episode re write
burn for you - hotchniss 1800 AU
voicemail - hit and run - emily’s plane goes down. she leaves hotch a voicemail.
it’s not perfect, it’s better - emily and aarons one year wedding anniversary doesn’t go as planned, but maybe it was better.
when i cheated it did - during hotch and haley’s separation, he has a thing with Emily. Haley pulls him up about it when he comes to her about the divorce papers and one confession later, he lands right back at emilys door once again.
the call - emily gets hurt. hotch can’t get her go.
you are everything - They kill Doyle on the scene. There’s no need for the lies and for paris. Emily and Aaron finally talk after weeks of confusion. Established relationship.
promise me - hotch leaves emily after he’s attacked, she refuses to back down without a fight.
hold me while you wait - emily goes to hotch after two weeks of being unable to sleep after doyle
the flu - emily gets the flu. that’s it.
you’ll be safe in these arms of mine - emily gets taken by their recent unsub, someone they named the three day killer. they know they have three days to find her, aaron refuses to let them get to four.
can’t be alone anymore - he sent his family away to keep them safe. would have sent her away as well if it was an option. but it wasn’t. no one has seen him for days. he really shouldn’t be going to her apartment. but he has no one else. and he needs her.
bruises - young hotchniss. aaron cleans up emily’s injures after yet another fight with her boyfriend.
It’s you - hotch and emily start seeing each other during his separation with haley. when haley wants to try again six months later he accepts, his wish to be a family unit for his son a bigger priority than anything else. three months later things just aren’t the same, and haley gives him an ultimatum. - 
no wedding, one funeral - Emily and Aaron are getting married. It’s supposed to be the happiest day of her life. However, an Irish man with a vendetta has other plans.
in progress. sort of ?
doctor au - unnamed. emily = doctor and hotch’s gf and then he gets stabbed :/ uh oh
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#r fic recs - aka all of my favourites ever written ever in life that i will hold close to my soul for the rest of eternity💞
-
powerhouse trio - aka my favourite ultimate vip one of a kind will read forever and never forget fics 💖💓💕✋🏻 list below
we see no end - https://archiveofourown.org/works/26008354/chapters/63235624 by @/jetaime-jespere
a casual arrangement - https://archiveofourown.org/works/26300413 by @/sweetsecretskeptinside
sunday - https://archiveofourown.org/works/32511118 by @/eprcntiss
always thinking about (four years later) emily being with sean and aaron being in love with her but then emily and sean are engaged and so he tells her he loves her but she doesn’t love him she loves sean and my god i still feel sick to my stomach over this will someone just please fucking write it before i rip my hair out and jump in front of a moving train
always thinking about (four years later) emily being with sean and aaron being in love with her but then emily and sean are engaged and so he tells her he loves her but she doesn’t love him she loves sean and my god i still feel sick to my stomach over this will someone just please fucking write it before i rip my hair out and jump in front of a moving train
will someone just please do this one thing for me and i promise ill be a good girl and i’ll stop behaving the way i am and i’ll go to confession just PLEASE
always thinking about (four years later) emily being with sean and aaron being in love with her but then emily and sean are engaged and so he tells her he loves her but she doesn’t love him she loves sean and my god i still feel sick to my stomach over this will someone just please fucking write it before i rip my hair out and jump in front of a moving train
Emily and Aaron's day keeps going from bad to worse.
And to think, when she woke up that morning her biggest fear was that the team would find out about their relationship.
-x-
Hi friends!!
This fic is a birthday gift for my bestie @aubreyprc! Thank you for continuing to be the most chaotic person I know and for being responsible for a fair number of my hangovers this year. Love you for being the maddest woman in this whole town xoxo
This fic is loosely based on a Bone's episode, and has one of your favourite tropes - a secret relationship, peril and a lot of drama- so I hope you enjoy <3
-x-
Words: 5.2k (I...got really carried away with this one)
Warnings: Canon typical violence
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
Emily secures her earrings into place as she walks into the kitchen, a smile washing across her face as the smell of coffee and toast meets her. Aaron has his back to her, focusing on her toaster so he makes sure the bread is cooked exactly to her liking, so she walks over and wraps her arms around him from behind. He sinks into her embrace, clearly having heard her coming, the way her high heels had clicked against the hardwood floor giving her away.
“Good morning,” he says, turning to press a kiss to her forehead.
“Morning,” she replies, her hand slinking down his back as she shifts to stand next to him, taking the opportunity to stamp a kiss against his lips, “You didn’t have to make me breakfast.”
He raises an eyebrow at her and smiles, “You say that every morning,” he says, kissing her briefly before he presses the button that releases the toast, “And like I say every morning,” he says, turning so he wraps his arms around her, his hands low on her back, “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?”
She smiles, her tongue pressing against the back of her teeth as she looks up at him through her lashes. She hums as she leans in to kiss him again, “Excellent point.”
They’d been together for almost a year, the 11 months that had passed since their first date had been the happiest of her life. Since her return from Paris, he’d been the one person who’d expected the least out of her. Everyone else seemed to want her to slip back into her old life, to be the person she’s sure died on that cold hard floor in Boston, and she’d tried. She’d tried so hard to ignore how strange everything felt, how the fear that it could all be torn away from her again was ever present, living under her skin and making her itch in a way that never seemed to shift. Aaron simply wanted her to be honest with him, to tell her when she was having a bad day, a request she now knew came from a place of understanding, their pasts now similar in a way that made her ache.
She now liked to think, love making her softer than it ever had, that everything they’d been through had led them to this. To the relationship that she knew was it. Every first she had experienced with him also a last for her. A last first kiss, a last first night staying over, a last first I love you. She wanted everything with him. A house they could both call home. Marriage. A couple of kids who would be younger siblings for Jack.
The only problem was no one else knew about them.
The secrecy had been practical at first. She’d been home for just over six months when they got together, and they’d been hesitant to rock the boat, to further crack the unsteady foundation the team was slowly building under themselves at the time. Their relationship had grown around the secrecy, making it feel all the more precious because it was just theirs. Only Jack and Jessica knew and Emily knew it couldn’t last forever, that if they wanted to move forward, like she knew they both wanted to, they’d have to let the others in.
She didn’t remember the last time that they’d spent a night apart. They most most of their time at his place, something about the homely comfort of it, Jack’s belongings strewn everywhere, made her feel safe, but they occasionally stayed at hers. Even Sergio lived at Aaron’s now, his favourite place to sleep was at the end of Jack’s bed, the little boy and the cat fast friends in a way that made her chest bloom with love.
They’d stayed at hers last night, mostly for practical reasons. She had to go to court to be a witness for the prosecution for two separate cases that had happened to fall on the docket on the same day, so she’d needed to get clothes she usually wouldn’t wear to work. Juries seemed to warm to her a little more if she wore skirts or dresses, something about the lack of sharp edges from her usual suits that made her more likeable. It drove her crazy, and infuriated her that they were more likely to listen to her if she dressed in a certain way, but being aware of it was one of the benefits of her profession.
It also didn’t hurt that Aaron could never tear his eyes from her legs whenever she wore a dress, his gaze skipping from her ankle to up past her knee, only to linger on the material that hid what he knew lingered beneath.
She smiles at him as she pulls away from him and pours them a coffee each, her skin burning from where she can feel him staring at her. She turns to look at him and raises an eyebrow, her smile widening when she clears her throat and he jumps slightly, his cheeks going red when he realises he’s been caught.
“Seen something you like?” She asks, feigning innocence as his eyes meet hers. He shakes his head and steps towards her, his hand skimming her waist as he takes one of the cups of coffee.
“When I’m looking at you?” He says, looking her up and down again, his stomach flipping at the sight of her seemingly endless legs, on the high heels she only broke out for court and date nights, before he meets her eyes again, “Always.”
She presses her lips together to capture a laugh but she fails, shaking her head at him, “Correct answer, honey.”
He kisses her cheek and steps away, “Come on, we need to get you fed so you can survive court.”
Emily grumbles as she sits at the breakfast bar and he slides a plate of toast towards her, “Let’s just hope I don’t die of boredom.”
___
He always hated it when she wasn’t in the office.
He loved to look out of the window and see her at her desk, her presence enough to soothe any stress or tension the job could cause him on any given day. Sometimes she’d notice him looking down at her and her eyes would meet his, a sparkle in her smile that he knew was just for him and his son. Other times she’d be stuck in her work, concentrating on paperwork or teasing Derek or Spencer, flashes of who she’d been before Ian had torn through their lives peeking through. He’d loved her then and he loved her now, and he knew he’d love every version of her that would exist in their future together.
He checks his phone, waiting for Emily to text him to say she was out of her morning session in court, and he sighs as he places it back down when he has no messages from her. He’s about to pick up his pen to continue with his paperwork when there’s a firm knock on his door, a panicked Derek pushing it open before he can tell him to come in.
“Hotch,” he breathes out, his grip on the door so tight Aaron is sure he could tear it from its hinges, “There’s been a shooting at the courthouse.”
It takes a moment for pieces to slip into place, for him to realise the implication. The realisation forces him to his feet, his hands clasped at his side as he tries to control himself, knowing his girlfriend wouldn’t thank him for revealing their relationship this way.
“Have we heard from Pren-”
He’s cut off by the ringing of his phone and he grabs it, relief flooding through him when he sees Emily’s name on the screen, a picture of her and Jack his contact photo for her. He answers quickly, his eyes meeting Derek’s as he speaks.
“Emily, we just heard about the shooting,” he says, hoping Derek doesn’t pick up on the slip-up of using her first name, “What’s happening?”
Any relief Aaron feels is destroyed the moment a stranger responds instead of the woman he loves.
___
She hears him before she sees him.
He’s loud as he demands to see her, clearly flashing his badge to get past the cordons that had been put in place. She forces a smile on her face as he comes into view, rounding the back of the ambulance she was sitting in with purpose. Her heart aches when she sees how stressed he is, barely concealed fear and panic clear in his eyes, in the tension in his shoulder.
“Em.”
“I’m fine, honey,” she says, reaching out and grasping his hand as he climbs into the audience, barely glancing at the paramedic who had been treating her.
“Fine?” He exclaims, his eyebrows furrowing, “You’re in the back of an ambulance, there was someone here with a gun-”
She cups his face, cutting him off before he can spiral in a way that only she and Jack could draw out of him, “Aaron. I’m fine. I just rolled my ankle, thats all,” she says, nodding towards her now bare feet, her wrapped ankle and her heels neatly next to each other on the floor next to her, “Turns out that those stupid heels I have to wear to court aren’t the thing to dodge bullets in.” He sinks in on himself, her attempt at humour doing nothing to calm him down, and she sighs, “I’m sorry, that was a stupid thing to say.”
“No,” he says, squeezing her hand tighter, “No you’re never stupid I was just…I was worried that’s all. Especially when I got a call from you and it wasn’t you who answered.”
“Well,” she says, flicking her gaze to the paramedic, taking some joy out of how he looks away, clearly intimidated by her, “Well I did say I was okay to call you myself, but there are apparently protocols.”
Aaron smiles softly, her dislike of procedure something that made him fall impossibly more in love with her every time it made itself known. His smile slips away as he thinks about what had happened here today, how he could have lost her in slightly different circumstances.
“Do…do you think they were aiming for you?” He asks, knowing he’d trust her judgement above all else no matter how she responds. She was trained in this kind of thing well above even him, a level of skill that hadn’t ever made any sense to him until he learnt about her time at Interpol.
The way her face falls, the way she presses her lips together, is all the answer he needs.
“Yes,” she replies, squeezing his hand, “I think they were.”
He nods and pulls her into a hug, holding her tightly as he kisses the side of her head, “The rest of the team are back at the office trying to get to the bottom of it. It’s likely connected to one of the cases you were here for today so Garcia is looking into associates for both of the defendants,” he says, “I’m going to take you home so you can rest.”
She rolls her eyes, “Aaron-”
“We’re going back to mine,” he says, leaving no room for argument, “And then the others can update me from there.”
She wants to argue with him, wants to insist that they go back to the office and figure out what is going on, but she can’t bring herself to. Not when he was looking at her like she could break in two, his grip on her bordering on too tight for the first time since they’d got together.
“Okay,” she says, cupping his cheek again as she relents, “Okay, but we need to go back to mine first.”
“Em-”
“Just to pick up some shoes,” she assures him,” her thumb running back and forth on his cheek, “I only have boots at yours, I think I’ll be regulated to sneakers for a couple of weeks.”
He nods, leaning forward to press his forehead against hers, “Okay,” he closes his eyes and swallows thickly, “I love you.”
She smiles and moves her hand to the back of his head, tangling her fingers in his hair. She ignores how she can feel the paramedic looking at them, his curious gaze on her back.
“I love you too,” she replies, kissing him quickly before she pulls back to look at him, “Let’s go home.”
She lets him fuss over her.
He hands her a pair of his socks that he keeps in his go bag so she has something on her feet, the thought of putting her heels back on enough to make her grimace. When they get back to her place he wraps his arm tightly around her waist, guiding her to the living room and helping her onto the couch. She grasps onto his jacket and pulls him down to join her, resting her head on his shoulder as she traps him in place.
“Sit here with me for a minute,” she insists, curling around him, his arm hugged to her chest. She can feel the stiffness in his embrace, how tense he is. He was usually relaxed when it was just the two of them or when they were with Jack, an ease to his frame she hadn’t known he was capable of until she started spending time with him out of work. She presses a kiss to his shoulder, “Are you okay?”
A laugh catches in his chest and he shakes his head, “You were the one who got hurt,” he replies, “I’m fine.”
She hums, deciding to let it go for now. She knew him almost better than she knew herself. He needed to work things out by himself, a hangover from years of having to do so. She was the same way, and slowly but surely they were getting better at not needing to turn inwards before they each other help.
“Have you heard from the team yet?” She asks, running her hand up and down his arm.
He nods, “They are interviewing both Grisham and Haig,” he says, blowing out a breath, shaking his head at the mention of the men they’d once hunted that she’d been due to give evidence against today, “And their families. We are leaning more towards Haig at the moment, Grisham’s MO was always explosives, if whoever is trying to stop you wanted to make a point that’s what they’d do.”
She nods in agreement, “Well, I don’t fancy getting blown up so is it weird I’m grateful?”
He chuckles, his real laugh that never fails to make her heart soar, and he shakes his head at her, “I understand what you mean, so if it’s weird what does that say about us both,” he kisses her temple, “Want something to drink before we head to mine?”
“I think there’s some Diet Coke in there,” she replies and he smiles and stands up, his hand firm on her thigh.
“There is,” he says as he walks towards her kitchen, “I got some when I did your grocery shopping last week.”
She moans in delight as she turns to look at him, her smile wide as he places his hand on the fridge door, “I knew I love you for a reas-”
She’s cut off as he pulls the fridge door open and he’s thrown backwards, the explosion that tears through her kitchen seemingly happening in slow motion as he hits the ground with force. The sprinklers almost immediately are triggered, soaking her kitchen with water as she jumps up off the couch.
“Aaron?”
He doesn’t respond, his silence only pushing her closer to him, somehow avoiding standing on any the debris that had once been her kitchen counter as she runs over to him, the pain in her ankle not even registering. She lands on her knees by his side and touches him, ignoring the shake in her hands as she turns him just enough to see his face.
She shakes him and he doesn’t flinch, making panic fill up her chest, making it hard to breathe.
“Aaron?”
____
She’s barely been at the hospital for an hour when the team arrive, their presence both a comfort and a curse, forcing her to transition into a concerned colleague from a concerned girlfriend.
“Emily,” Penelope says, sitting down next to her and wrapping her arm around her shoulders, “Are you okay?”
She nods, clearing her throat as she looks at her friends, “Yeah, I was in the living room, Aaron…Hotch took the blast.”
“What was Hotch doing at yours anyway?” Dave asks her, his hands in his pockets where he stands in front of her.
“He dropped me home,” she says, looking up at Dave, purposely ignoring the almost smug smile on his face, “He opened the fridge to get me a drink. You know what he’s like,” she says, her focus returning to her hands, “He’s a gentleman through and through.”
JJ nods, “That’s true enough,” she says, “We’ve shifted our focus onto Grisham because of the explosion.”
“How’s Hotch doing? What about his hearing?”
She blows out a breath at Spencer’s question. It had been her first concern too, something she’d mentioned to the doctors when they’d arrived by ambulance. “They said they’d test it, but he did wake up in the ER and he could hear me.”
It felt ridiculous that one of her first thoughts if he did lose his hearing was that he’d never hear her say she loved him again, or hear the voices of their future children. It was easier to worry about that, about things that may never come to pass, instead of the fact someone could have killed him in their pursuit if killing her.
“Family of Aaron Hotchner,” A doctor says as he enters the room, cutting off any further conversation.
“I’m his medical proxy,” Emily answers as she stands up, aware of the team all looking at each other curiously out of the corner of her eye, “Is he okay?”
“He’s got several cracked ribs, a broken collarbone, and a concussion. He’ll be in a lot of pain for a while, but he’s okay.”
The relief is palpable, her hand on her chest, “Can I see him?”
The doctor nods, “Of course, I’ll have someone come find you to take you to him in a moment.”
“Thank you so much,” she replies, blowing out a steady breath as she turns back to the team, unsurprised by the different levels of curiosity painted across their faces.
“You’re Hotch’s proxy?” Derek asks, his arms crossed over his chest.
“He’s mine too,” she explains, “We switched it a little while back, so if something happens Jessica and Jack wouldn’t be worried before they need to be.” The half-lie rolls off of her tongue with ease, but she doesn’t have the energy to figure out if they believe her or not.
Thankfully she isn’t left with enough time to worry about it when a nurse walks into the room to escort her to Aaron’s room. She limps all the down the hallway, the pain in her ankle returning now her adrenaline was disappearing. She thanks the nurse as she steps into Aaron’s room, and she barely hides a gasp when she sees him.
He was covered in bruises, the worst of them peeking out from under this hospital gown and the immobiliser that was holding his arm to his chest to stabilise his collarbone. He had cuts on his face, the largest of which was above his left eyebrow, and his right cheek was bruised.
“Surely I can’t look that bad,” he quips, and he smiles at her when their eyes meet. She sighs, unsure how they went so quickly from her making jokes about an injury to make him feel better to the other way around. She wanted nothing more than to go back to that morning, to pull him back into bed and cancel their plans for the day. He sighs and lifts his good hand as high as he can, the pain in his ribs meaning he can barely lift it from the bed, “Come here, sweetheart.”
She walks across the room and sits on the edge of the bed and she wraps both of her hands around his, “I hate today.”
He chuckles and squeezes her hand, “It’s not exactly on my top five list either,” he says, watching how she keeps her gaze on their joint hands, “Are you okay?”
She laughs dryly, and shakes her head as she looks up at him. She presses her lips together as tears press at the back of her eyes, “I think it was you who said ‘I’m fine it’s you who got hurt’ only a couple of hours ago.”
He sighs, “Em…”
She releases one of her hands from around his and wipes a stray tear from her cheek, “You got hurt because of me.”
“I got hurt because someone is trying to get a serial killer out of being tried for his crimes,” he says, smiling softly at her, “It’s not your fault,”
She wishes she could believe him, that the guilt that was churning in her belly would go away, but instead, she nods and wipes another tear from her cheek, “The team are looking at Grisham in more detail because of the explosion,” she says, “And my kitchen is a mess.”
Aaron nods, “I don’t want you by yourself tonight,” he says, already sensing her argument, “I mean it, Em. Otherwise, I’ll check myself out of here against medical advice and make sure you aren’t alone.”
He knows he’s playing dirty, that he’s using her love and concern for him against her, but it works, she relents by nodding.
“Okay,” she says, leaning down to kiss him, “I doubt Derek would have let me go anywhere alone tonight anyway,” she pushes his hair off of his forehead, “Want me to stay until you fall asleep?”
“Always,” he replies, trying to sit up for a kiss but failing. She smiles and leans down to kiss him, “Since your kitchen has been blown up,” he says as she pulls back, his breath skipping across her skin in a way she’d worried she’d never feel again, “Maybe you should just officially move in with me.”
She smiles and kisses him once more before she pulls back, “We’ll talk about it once you can sit up straight by yourself, okay?” She says, even though she knows her answer could only ever be yes.
“Okay,” he replies, leaning back against his pillow, his smile turning sleepy from all the medication in his system, “Love you.”
“You too,” she replies. She stays until he’s fallen asleep, careful when she stands up from the bed so as not to disturb him. She presses a kiss to his forehead before she steps away and leaves the room. She gives herself a moment to lean on the wall, her palm against her forehead as she blows out a breath. “Fuck this has been a long day.” She steps away from the wall as she decides to find the team, ready to leave the hospital for the evening, already mentally counting down the hours until she can come and see Aaron again.
“Agent Prentiss?”
She turns to look at a man in scrubs just to her left. There was something about his face that was familiar, but she couldn’t place it, sure he must have been one of the many nurses they’d encountered in the ER when they arrived, “Yes?”
“There’s just a few more pieces of paperwork I need you to sign.”
She nods, letting him guide her away from the hallway, towards a more isolated part of the hospital floor. It’s only when she realises they are alone she starts to question it, her usually quick mental reflexes dulled by everything that had happened since she’d woken up that morning.
“Where are we-”
She’s cut off as a hand goes over her mouth, and a needle goes into her neck. She tries to call out for help, but her head starts to swim and her eyes drift shut, plunging her into darkness.
___
She wakes up quickly, startled as she tries to remember falling asleep. Her arms ache and she looks up to see her hands are cuffed together and hooked over a metal bar above her head, she tries to pull at them, to loosen the shackles but she fails. She tries to push down the panic that being handcuffed stirs in her belly, and she shakes her head in an attempt to physically try and rid her brain of the comparison to when Ian had held her captive.
“You’re not going to get out of them.”
She turns her head, the movement making her neck ache from the strain in her arms, and is only partially surprised to find the man who she now knew had been impersonating a member of hospital staff.
“You should let me go,” she says calmly, “I’m a federal agent, you’ll be in a lot of trouble for this.”
He chuckles as he steps towards her, pulling a gun from the waistband of his pants, “You’re very confident for someone who has a gun pointed at them.”
“My team will find you,” she says, proud of herself for the steadiness of her voice, how it doesn’t shake.
He shrugs, “I think they are likely distracted by the other case you were due to talk about today,” he smirks, “The explosion was the perfect decoy.”
It clicks in her head, why she’d found his face familiar when he approached her at the hospital. He was the brother of Haig, the man she’d spoken against as part of the prosecution’s case that morning. He’d been one of the few people sitting behind Haig in the gallery, his eyes fixed on Emily the entire time she spoke.
“You’re Haig’s brother,” she says, and he clenches his teeth.
“His name is Josh.”
She nods and swallows thickly. He was unravelling in front of her, clearly not having thought any of this through beyond hurting her.
“How did you know about Grisham?” she asks and he laughs at her.
“I used to work for the DA’s office. They laid me off when my brother was arrested. When you arrested him. I still have contacts there who let me know about the other cases.”
“What’s your name?” She asks, trying to calm him down, the shake of his hand making nerves roll through her.
“Stuart.”
“Stuart, this isn’t going to help him,” she says, trying to reason with him, the ache in her arms and shoulders turning into pain that burned through her upper body, “This is only going to make things worse.”
Stuart steps towards her again, his finger over the trigger, “If you don’t talk again tomorrow he won’t go down.”
“That isn’t true,” she says, sucking in a breath as he steps even closer, the barrel of his gun against her abdomen, “Even if I’m not there, someone else will be called as an expert witness.”
“Who? He sneers, his breath smelling of whiskey and smoke as it washes over her, “Your boyfriend who almost had his face blown off?”
The door behind them bursts open and Stuart turns, his gun raised and pointed towards it, but he doesn’t have a chance to pull the trigger. A gunshot echoes throughout the room and he falls to the ground, his gun clattering across the metal floor. Emily blows out a breath and looks up, a sound she can’t name catching in her chest as her eyes meet her boyfriend’s.
The team was behind him, their guns raised, Derek clearly the one who had fired the shot that had taken out Stuart.
“Aaron,” she breathes out as he walks towards her, clearly in agony with every step he takes towards her. He’s wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, one she’s sure belongs to Derek, and his arm is strapped to his chest under it, “You’re meant to be in hospital.”
“Like I’d stay there once I found out you were missing,” he says, his eyes flicking up to her cuffed hands.
He knows he doesn’t have the strength to raise his one good hand to unhook her arms that way, so he ducks under the cuffs and into the circle of her arms, He stands up straight and her arms shift from where she’d been hooked to over his shoulders, and he lowers them both to the ground.
“Are you okay?”
“Are you okay?”
They speak simultaneously and then they both laugh, which pulls a wince out of Aaron.
“How about we agree we don’t ask that question until at least the end of the day?” She says, and he nods, resting his forehead against hers as he tries to get his breath back.
“Sounds good to me,” he replies, stamping a kiss against hers.
“How did you figure it out?” She asks and a throat clears from behind them, and she suddenly remembers the team is there too.
“We watched the CCTV the minute we realised you were missing, Bella,” Dave says, walking over and undoing her cuffs before pocketing his key again. She lets the cuffs fall free and unwraps her arms from around Aaron’s neck but she doesn’t move away, “It didn’t take too long to put together.”
“And you let him check himself out of the hospital?” She asks, her face incredulous as she purposely ignores how Aaron protests next to her.
“Have you ever tried to argue with him, Princess?” Derek asks, his hands on his hips, “We can’t all get away with it like you do.”
She groans as he winks knowingly at her and she looks back at her boyfriend and leans in to talk to him, “I think we’re busted.”
He smiles at her, “Sweetheart, I think we were the moment your fridge exploded in my face.”
“Oh please,” JJ says, rolling her eyes at her friends, “We figured it out the moment Hotch ran out of the bullpen like a bat out of hell this morning when he found out about the shooting.”
She looks up at her friends with her eyebrow raised in challenge, “Look, we’ll answer all your questions later,” she says, her hand linked with Aarons, “But can you give us a minute?”
They all nod and Emily is grateful that they know when to push and when not to, and she smiles at Aaron when they back up enough to give them privacy. She leans in and stamps a kiss against his cheek.
“Thank you for coming to save me,” she says, pushing some of his hair from his face, her fingers tracing over one of the cuts on his forehead.
“Anytime, sweetheart,” he replies, “Although if we could avoid making a habit out of it when one of my arms is out of action I’d appreciate it.”
She laughs and presses her forehead against his, “Deal.” She closes her eyes and gives herself a moment to breathe him in, the scent of him lingering under the smell of disinfectant and blood.
“Em?”
“Yes, honey,” she says as she pulls back to look at him.
“I could really do with going back to the hospital now.”
I got my days mixed up because my brain is full of cold but SGW will be tomorrow (Sunday) because tonight I am posting a birthday fic for the one and only @aubreyprc 🥰
would you ever think about writing something where hotch is cheating on haley with emily?
oh my sweet summer child let me introduce you to
illicit affairs
there's 23 chapters of the cheating trope x but I must warn you that it's incomplete and im unsure when I'm coming back to it as of yet (although I do intend to)
@aubreyprc wrote one of my favourite hotchniss cheating fics, if you're looking! it's a one shot that did everything I wanted illicit affairs to do.
Hey. welcome back! Here’s something I’d love your take on!
Hotch realises he’s in love with Emily when it’s clear she’s started seeing someone else. He ignores his feelings, more than anything he wants her happy. But when there’s a ring on her finger he can’t hold it in anymore.
Will he tell her before it’s too late? and if so, what does she say?
Half of me wants to ask for a happy ending, but I truly would love to see/read how you would destroy all of us with this, I’m sure you could!
wtf dude 😀😀😀 that sounds . like the most painful thing ever why would you say that to me
I just read favourite crime and you need to know that you did everything I'm trying to do in illicit affairs in one chapter. it's beautiful and heart wrenching and is one of my favourite hotchniss stories I've ever read. I think im a sucker for pain because the fics where they stay unhappy are always my favourite? you're a great writer, thank you for that fic
💕💖💓💞💖💖💞💞💞💓💓💓💕💘 i promise i haven’t been ignoring this i literally haven’t opened my inbox in MONTHS but THIS IS SO FUCKING💕💖💕💞💓💓 i am sobbing and throwing up. thank u sm girlie i love you now and forever
lol remember that time i told you all about a hotchniss fic based on season 1 meredith and derek and then never posted it that was so wild of me actually i don’t even know where it is now
sometimes i think about how August, Betty and James (from tswift) are Emily, Haley and Aaron and i cry. then i laugh because that’s a very big sign of mental illness. then i cry again.
someone just liked this and i just thought i should share that i still think about this more than i should almost two years later. i’ve had a whole trip to delu delu and back and they’re still rotting in my brain
The action of hurting or harming someone in return for an injury or wrong suffered at their hands.
She'd been comfortable and safe for so long that she'd allowed herself how to forget how it felt to be afraid.
A sequel to The Way Home
-x-
Well, it took longer to get this out than I hoped, but better late than never! I love The Way Home and I am loving writing this version of them.
A quick shout out to @aubreyprc who, no matter how much she screams at me over the next several weeks for this fic, was involved in planting this very firmly in my head when we were in Blackpool for the weekend last year.
I do have some ideas for a series of one shots between The Way Home and this fic. Just a series of moments in the 16 years between them meeting in college and the start of this sequel. Let me know if you'd be interested!
Chapters will be posted every Friday.
-x-
Words: 3.1k
A full list of warnings can be found on the Series Master List.
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
Fall 2007 - Arlington, VA
Emily wakes up to the feeling of small hands pressing into her cheeks and the comforting scent of her daughter's shampoo surrounding her.
“Daddy says it’s time to wake up, Mama,” Eleanor says, her attempts at whispering somehow louder than her usual voice. She opens her eyes and looks at her little girl, who smiles widely at her, “Morning!”
“Good morning, Ellie,” she replies, her voice rough with sleep, and she looks briefly at her husband's side of the bed and is unsurprised to find it empty, the sheets cold to the touch indicating that he’d been up for a while. He’d always been a morning person, even back when they were in college, and it was something he had passed on to their five-year-old who was already dressed and ready for school, her hair in perfect braids that Aaron had clearly paid close attention to. “You look pretty.”
The little girl beams, her smile getting impossibly wider, “Like Mommy.”
Emily chuckles, knowing that was absolutely not the case right now. That she likely had remnants of yesterday's mascara smudged under her eyes, never quite coming all the way off no matter how many steps there were in her skincare routine, and her hair would be a mess.
“Thank you, sweet girl,” she says, sitting up just enough to pull Eleanor into her arms, something that the little girl needs no encouragement for. It had become part of their morning routine all the way back when Eleanor was a tiny dot of a thing, content to be in her mother’s embrace for a while before the day began. Emily knows thats why Aaron would always send their daughter up to wake her up just a few minutes before her alarm went off, so they could start the day in a way they both loved.
It was strange to think that Eleanor was now the age Jack had been when Emily first met him. She hoped that the years would go slower this time around, that it wouldn’t feel like she blinked and then had a teenager going off to college, but time had always been a thief and she knew it always would be. The vague fear that Eleanor would be her only chance at motherhood always lingered in the back of her mind. The losses she’d had before she had her little girl were enough to make her anxious just at the prospect of getting pregnant again, but they were trying. Both she and Aaron keen to have one more child.
She pulls her daughter closer just at the thought of it, excitement and anxiety bubbling in her stomach in equal measure, and she smiles as Eleanor wraps both of her hands around one of hers before she starts to trace one of her fingers up and down the scar on Emily’s forearm. The now thin silver line stretched from her wrist to halfway to her elbow. It was the only physical scar she had from that time, the only reminder etched onto her skin. She always found herself oddly grateful for it, a physical manifestation of the worst time of her life, because it was proof it happened.
Something she needed when the mental scars, which she knew would never fully heal, reared their ugly heads. She hated that every time her throat was sore she could feel Ian’s hand wrapped around it. That whenever the first sign of a cold would enter their home, Eleanor coughing as she came home from school, she knew it was only a matter of time until she’d feel the familiar scratchiness. The nightmares would follow shortly afterwards, they always did, and she’d wake up to Aaron talking her through it, knowing from experience that if he touched her before she was fully awake and aware of her surroundings he’d only add to the torture her subconscious had lined up for her. A grim showreel of things she wishes she could forget.
The hardest thing to grabble with was that she couldn’t wish she had never met Ian, because without him she never would have moved and met Aaron. It felt like a cruel twist of fate, a joke of sorts from the universe that had no punchline, that the very worst thing that had ever happened to her had led her to the best.
The alarm on her nightstand rings out, and she reaches to turn it off before pressing a kiss to Eleanor’s forehead, “Ok honey, you go downstairs and tell Daddy I’ll be there in a minute.”
Eleanor nods before she scrambles off the bed, talking over her shoulder as she goes, “Love you, Mommy.”
“Love you too, Ellie,” she replies, smiling as she watches her daughter run down the hallway, her footsteps slowing as she reaches the stairs. Emily stretches her arms over her head as she climbs out of bed, sighing as she rubs at her eyes before she leaves the room, ready to go downstairs and join her family.
She yawns as she walks into the kitchen, distracted by the thought of work and everything she needed to get done that day, and she almost walks straight into Aaron. He stops her just in time, his hands on her shoulders as he holds her in place, a wry smile on his face.
“What is it with you and always walking into me?” He asks, his tired eyes sparkling with love for her as he leans down to kiss her cheek.
She rolls her eyes at him but can’t help but smile as she remembers the first time they met. How she’d walked straight into him, distracted by moving to a new town and the things she’d never quite been able to escape. He always brought it up, exaggerating how they met for all of their friends, false claims that she’d literally knocked him over, the first impression so strong he’d had no choice but to fall in love with her.
“Any excuse to get caught by you,” she quips, winking at him as he kisses her cheek before he lets her go, “Do you have a busy day today?”
Ever since he’d successfully prosecuted George Foyet a year ago he’d become one of the Attorney General’s favourite prosecutors and was now often given the most high-profile cases in DC. It was everything he’d trained for, those long nights in law school when she’d switch between helping him study and distracting him to give him a well-earned break, paying off. There were rumours the Attorney General was training him up to eventually replace him.
“No court, thankfully,” he replies, turning to the kitchen counter where Eleanor was sitting to finish pouring the milk into her cereal, “But a lot of casework to look over,” he puts their daughter’s cereal in front of her and then turns back to Emily, “You?”
“Just a lot of meetings,” she says, grimacing as she thinks of her day. There were times when she missed being more actively involved in social work, but mostly she was grateful for what she did now. Working closely with government officials to help create policies to protect the most vulnerable in society. It was a change she made when she had Eleanor, something that allowed her to spend more time with her family. “But I’ll be able to pick up this one from school,” she says, playing with one of Eleanor’s braids, “How about you sweet girl? Busy day at Kindergarten?”
Eleanor shrugs and continues eating her cereal. Aaron chuckles and kisses his wife’s temple before moving past her to make coffee.
“You go get ready, sweetheart,” he says, smiling at his wife, “I’ll get your breakfast sorted.” She nods and turns to head back upstairs, ready for the day ahead of her.
When she looked back on that morning in the coming weeks, she was grateful for it, for the last taste of normalcy before their lives were turned upside down.
___
“A spokesperson for Red Onion State Prison has confirmed that the riot is now under control-”
Emily switches the tv channel from the news, something Aaron liked to watch when he couldn’t sleep, to a cartoon for Eleanor.
“Right, sweet girl,” she says, kissing the top of her daughter's head as the little girl settles on the couch, “Mommy has to do a little bit more work, ok? And then when Daddy gets home we’ll have dinner.”
Eleanor nods, her focus on the tv already and Emily kisses her head once more before she heads towards the dining room. She sits at the table, about to read over some paperwork, when she hears the doorbell ringing. She stands up and shakes her head at the thundering footsteps from her daughter, who seemed to always create a lot of noise despite being small, running down the hallway. She reaches the front door seconds before Eleanor and raises her eyebrow at her.
“Eleanor Brooke Hotchner, what have we said about you answering the door?” She says, grateful that she’s able to hide her amusement at her daughter's enthusiasm. Eleanor was such a happy little girl, always excited to see the people she loves, and Emily couldn’t help but wonder what she herself could have been like if Elizabeth had been a little more like the mother Emily always strove to be.
Eleanor looks up at her, her eyes wide in a way that Aaron always said she got from her, “Not to do it because it could be anybody.”
“Exactly,” Emily says, squeezing her shoulder, “We’ve got to be safe, right?”
“But Mommy it’s not just anybody it’s Aunt Haley, I saw her car,” Eleanor exclaims, almost bouncing back and forth on her feet with excitement at the prospect of seeing her favourite person outside of her direct family.
Emily shakes her head, and smiles, “Well, I guess we’d better let her in then, huh?” She turns and opens the door, smiling at her friend as she comes into view, her arms loaded with Pyrex dishes, “Hi Haley, sorry about that.”
“It’s ok,” she chuckles, the sparkle in her eyes letting her know she’s heard their conversation from outside, she looks down at Eleanor who smiles and rushes to Haley, wrapping her arms tight around her, “Well hello to you too, El.”
“Let Aunt Haley in the door at least, Ellie,” Emily says, reaching to take the food Haley had brought for them from her hands, “I’ll take these,” she says gratefully, “You know, you really don’t have to cook for us.”
“Well someone has to,” Haley replies, wrapping her arms around Eleanor and guiding her into the house, closing the door behind her, “Neither you nor Aaron can cook anything apart from boxed Mac and Cheese,” she quips, following Emily into the kitchen, Eleanor still wrapped around her, “Besides, it took my mind off of things.”
Emily pauses just before she puts the casseroles down and she turns to look at her friend. There was tension in her shoulders and a sense of sadness in her eyes, her smile a little tighter than usual, and Emily sighs.
“Ellie,” she says, turning her attention to her daughter, “Why don’t you go play for a little bit and then find all those drawings you did at school for Aunt Haley? I know she’d love to see them.”
“You did drawings for me?” Haley says, looking down at Ellie, her voice full of enthusiasm that was only partially exaggerated, “I’m excited to see them.”
“Ok!” Eleanor says, dislodging herself from Haley and running out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her bedroom. As soon as she is out of earshot, Emily leans against the kitchen counter and looks at Haley.
“Is this a glass of wine conversation or a coffee conversation?” She asks, and Haley chuckles humourlessly, sitting on one of the stools at the counter.
“Rick moved out today.”
Emily groans sympathetically, “Wine it is,” she says, placing her hand over her friends before she turns to the fridge, “What happened?”
Haley had met Rick several years ago at a work conference, and they’d hit it off. At first, Aaron had been unsure about the relationship, worried about his son spending so much time with someone he barely knew, and Emily had been the one to point out he’d moved on to her. That Haley had accepted someone else in her son’s life even if the road to where they were now was rocky at the start. Their friendship was forged the day Haley saved her from Ian. A case of being in the right place at the right time that led to where they were now - Emily and Aaron’s daughter calling the woman he once would have married ‘aunt.’
More recently, especially since Jack had left for college the year before, Haley’s relationship with Rick had seemed to slowly unravel. Ever since Haley was twenty her entire life had been about her son and doing the best for him that she could, and all of a sudden she had time to do what she wanted. It’s when the differences between her and the man she’d been with for 6 years started to show. She wanted to get married, but he didn’t. He wanted a kid, and she didn’t want to start all over again.
“We just…didn’t want the same things,” Haley says, smiling gratefully when Emily passes her a glass of wine, “He kept talking about kids and I’ve been so clear from the start that I didn’t want any more. I guess he thought I’d change my mind.”
“I’m sorry Haley,” she says, sitting next to her, “I know you love him.”
“Yeah,” she chokes out, “I do,” she shakes her head at herself and has a sip of wine, “I’m sure he’ll move on. Find someone a bit younger to have a family with, I seem to be a good practise long term girlfriend” she looks at Emily, and clears her throat, “Sorry, no offence.”
Emily smiles, “None taken.”
It was easy to forget sometimes that Haley and Aaron had ever been together. She wondered if it was because she’d never seen it. She’d come into their lives after they had already broken up. There were no romantic feelings between the two of them, but Emily knew that Aaron loved Haley as a friend and the mother of his son.
“Anyway, I came here to distract myself,” Haley says, “How are you?”
Emily blows out a breath, “Ok, I guess,” she replies, shrugging, “Work is pretty steady at the moment. Aaron is doing really well with his work.” Haley smiles at her indulgently, her eyebrow raised, “Are you really asking me about the baby thing?”
“Yes,” she answers immediately, her eyes sparkling, “I don’t want a baby of my own but I want to spoil another one of yours.”
Emily shakes her head, “Well, we are trying,” she says, “And if…” she swallows thickly, a tight smile spreading over her face, “If it happens you will be the first to know. Apart from Aaron of course.”
Haley reaches out and places her hand on Emily’s arm, “It will happen. I’m sure of it.”
Emily chuckles, “Well I’m glad someone is.”
A door flys open upstairs, and the time Eleanor had allowed them as she played had clearly come to an end.
“I found the drawings!”
Emily and Haley exchange a soft smile and then Emily shouts towards the stairs, “Come and show us, sweetie.”
___
Aaron picks up his briefcase and rolls his neck as he prepares to leave his office, excited to get home to his wife and daughter.
He’s barely made it into the hallway, still standing in the doorway of his office, when one of the assistant attorneys approaches him, a grim look on his face.
“Grant,” Aaron groans, “Please don’t tell me it’s a new case. Surely it can wait until morning. I’d quite like to get home.”
“No,” Grant says, shaking his head, “Nothing like that. Have you heard about what happened at Red Onion State?”
Aaron nods, “Yes, there was a riot. It’s being reported that it’s all under control now.”
“It is,” Grant replies, clearly choosing his words carefully, clearing his throat, “But…two prisoners escaped. Cell mates. The prison guards believe that the riot was started so they could get out.”
Aaron feels a pit form in his stomach and his chest gets tighter, a sense of foreboding that he can’t describe washing over him.
“Why are you telling me this? Is it someone I put away?”
Grant nods, “It’s George Foyet.”
Aaron sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose before looking back at the other man, “He escaped custody before his trial, he knows what he’s doing,” he shakes his head, “I assume they’ve followed the usual procedures.”
“State troopers are checking all vehicles in the surrounding area and every cop has an up-to-date photo of him, we’ll capture him.”
“Ok, thank you,” Aaron says, “I appreciate the heads up, at least I can tell my wife before it ends up on the news.”
George Foyet had made some pretty distinct threats towards Aaron when they were in court, and had twice had to be removed from the courtroom by order of the judge. When he told Emily about it she’d worried. Concerned that on the off chance Foyet did get found not guilty, he’d come after Aaron.
“Of course,” Grant says, and he turns to leave, but Aaron stops him.
“Who was the other prisoner? His cellmate?” Aaron asks out of curiosity, sure that whoever it was wouldn’t compare to the danger that George Foyet would pose to the general public.
“Oh,” Grant says, “Some guy who got put away for attempting to murder his ex-girlfriend,” he adds, shaking his head, “He tried to choke her to death in the middle of the street.”
Aaron feels everything slow down around him, his throat going dry as he tries to swallow against the fear that climbs up it, the taste of it bitter against his tongue.
He hoped he was wrong. That his instincts that were kicking in were incorrect. He couldn’t tell her this. Couldn’t tell his wife that the man who had caused her such pain, who still managed to sneak his way into her subconscious and haunt her in her dreams even after all this time, had escaped. It couldn’t be him.
It couldn’t be him.
“What’s his name?” He demands, his fists tight by his side and his jaw tense.
“Uh, I’d have to look again, he’s not-”
It couldn’t be him.
“His name, Anderson.”
Grant flinches at the use of his surname, at the way Aaron spits it out like its poison, “It’s Irish. Donavon? No. Doyle. His name is Ian Doyle.”
what the fuck is wrong with you how could you do this (i say like i didn’t come up with this in the middle of revolution in blackpool as i drank cocktails while you suffered the worst hangover you ever had)
funny you say that like i haven’t been insane for the last week and planted two of the most sickening ideas ever and you simply said ✨no✨ .. write them you coward
The action of hurting or harming someone in return for an injury or wrong suffered at their hands.
She'd been comfortable and safe for so long that she'd allowed herself how to forget how it felt to be afraid.
A sequel to The Way Home
-x-
Well, it took longer to get this out than I hoped, but better late than never! I love The Way Home and I am loving writing this version of them.
A quick shout out to @aubreyprc who, no matter how much she screams at me over the next several weeks for this fic, was involved in planting this very firmly in my head when we were in Blackpool for the weekend last year.
I do have some ideas for a series of one shots between The Way Home and this fic. Just a series of moments in the 16 years between them meeting in college and the start of this sequel. Let me know if you'd be interested!
Chapters will be posted every Friday.
-x-
Words: 3.1k
A full list of warnings can be found on the Series Master List.
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
Fall 2007 - Arlington, VA
Emily wakes up to the feeling of small hands pressing into her cheeks and the comforting scent of her daughter's shampoo surrounding her.
“Daddy says it’s time to wake up, Mama,” Eleanor says, her attempts at whispering somehow louder than her usual voice. She opens her eyes and looks at her little girl, who smiles widely at her, “Morning!”
“Good morning, Ellie,” she replies, her voice rough with sleep, and she looks briefly at her husband's side of the bed and is unsurprised to find it empty, the sheets cold to the touch indicating that he’d been up for a while. He’d always been a morning person, even back when they were in college, and it was something he had passed on to their five-year-old who was already dressed and ready for school, her hair in perfect braids that Aaron had clearly paid close attention to. “You look pretty.”
The little girl beams, her smile getting impossibly wider, “Like Mommy.”
Emily chuckles, knowing that was absolutely not the case right now. That she likely had remnants of yesterday's mascara smudged under her eyes, never quite coming all the way off no matter how many steps there were in her skincare routine, and her hair would be a mess.
“Thank you, sweet girl,” she says, sitting up just enough to pull Eleanor into her arms, something that the little girl needs no encouragement for. It had become part of their morning routine all the way back when Eleanor was a tiny dot of a thing, content to be in her mother’s embrace for a while before the day began. Emily knows thats why Aaron would always send their daughter up to wake her up just a few minutes before her alarm went off, so they could start the day in a way they both loved.
It was strange to think that Eleanor was now the age Jack had been when Emily first met him. She hoped that the years would go slower this time around, that it wouldn’t feel like she blinked and then had a teenager going off to college, but time had always been a thief and she knew it always would be. The vague fear that Eleanor would be her only chance at motherhood always lingered in the back of her mind. The losses she’d had before she had her little girl were enough to make her anxious just at the prospect of getting pregnant again, but they were trying. Both she and Aaron keen to have one more child.
She pulls her daughter closer just at the thought of it, excitement and anxiety bubbling in her stomach in equal measure, and she smiles as Eleanor wraps both of her hands around one of hers before she starts to trace one of her fingers up and down the scar on Emily’s forearm. The now thin silver line stretched from her wrist to halfway to her elbow. It was the only physical scar she had from that time, the only reminder etched onto her skin. She always found herself oddly grateful for it, a physical manifestation of the worst time of her life, because it was proof it happened.
Something she needed when the mental scars, which she knew would never fully heal, reared their ugly heads. She hated that every time her throat was sore she could feel Ian’s hand wrapped around it. That whenever the first sign of a cold would enter their home, Eleanor coughing as she came home from school, she knew it was only a matter of time until she’d feel the familiar scratchiness. The nightmares would follow shortly afterwards, they always did, and she’d wake up to Aaron talking her through it, knowing from experience that if he touched her before she was fully awake and aware of her surroundings he’d only add to the torture her subconscious had lined up for her. A grim showreel of things she wishes she could forget.
The hardest thing to grabble with was that she couldn’t wish she had never met Ian, because without him she never would have moved and met Aaron. It felt like a cruel twist of fate, a joke of sorts from the universe that had no punchline, that the very worst thing that had ever happened to her had led her to the best.
The alarm on her nightstand rings out, and she reaches to turn it off before pressing a kiss to Eleanor’s forehead, “Ok honey, you go downstairs and tell Daddy I’ll be there in a minute.”
Eleanor nods before she scrambles off the bed, talking over her shoulder as she goes, “Love you, Mommy.”
“Love you too, Ellie,” she replies, smiling as she watches her daughter run down the hallway, her footsteps slowing as she reaches the stairs. Emily stretches her arms over her head as she climbs out of bed, sighing as she rubs at her eyes before she leaves the room, ready to go downstairs and join her family.
She yawns as she walks into the kitchen, distracted by the thought of work and everything she needed to get done that day, and she almost walks straight into Aaron. He stops her just in time, his hands on her shoulders as he holds her in place, a wry smile on his face.
“What is it with you and always walking into me?” He asks, his tired eyes sparkling with love for her as he leans down to kiss her cheek.
She rolls her eyes at him but can’t help but smile as she remembers the first time they met. How she’d walked straight into him, distracted by moving to a new town and the things she’d never quite been able to escape. He always brought it up, exaggerating how they met for all of their friends, false claims that she’d literally knocked him over, the first impression so strong he’d had no choice but to fall in love with her.
“Any excuse to get caught by you,” she quips, winking at him as he kisses her cheek before he lets her go, “Do you have a busy day today?”
Ever since he’d successfully prosecuted George Foyet a year ago he’d become one of the Attorney General’s favourite prosecutors and was now often given the most high-profile cases in DC. It was everything he’d trained for, those long nights in law school when she’d switch between helping him study and distracting him to give him a well-earned break, paying off. There were rumours the Attorney General was training him up to eventually replace him.
“No court, thankfully,” he replies, turning to the kitchen counter where Eleanor was sitting to finish pouring the milk into her cereal, “But a lot of casework to look over,” he puts their daughter’s cereal in front of her and then turns back to Emily, “You?”
“Just a lot of meetings,” she says, grimacing as she thinks of her day. There were times when she missed being more actively involved in social work, but mostly she was grateful for what she did now. Working closely with government officials to help create policies to protect the most vulnerable in society. It was a change she made when she had Eleanor, something that allowed her to spend more time with her family. “But I’ll be able to pick up this one from school,” she says, playing with one of Eleanor’s braids, “How about you sweet girl? Busy day at Kindergarten?”
Eleanor shrugs and continues eating her cereal. Aaron chuckles and kisses his wife’s temple before moving past her to make coffee.
“You go get ready, sweetheart,” he says, smiling at his wife, “I’ll get your breakfast sorted.” She nods and turns to head back upstairs, ready for the day ahead of her.
When she looked back on that morning in the coming weeks, she was grateful for it, for the last taste of normalcy before their lives were turned upside down.
___
“A spokesperson for Red Onion State Prison has confirmed that the riot is now under control-”
Emily switches the tv channel from the news, something Aaron liked to watch when he couldn’t sleep, to a cartoon for Eleanor.
“Right, sweet girl,” she says, kissing the top of her daughter's head as the little girl settles on the couch, “Mommy has to do a little bit more work, ok? And then when Daddy gets home we’ll have dinner.”
Eleanor nods, her focus on the tv already and Emily kisses her head once more before she heads towards the dining room. She sits at the table, about to read over some paperwork, when she hears the doorbell ringing. She stands up and shakes her head at the thundering footsteps from her daughter, who seemed to always create a lot of noise despite being small, running down the hallway. She reaches the front door seconds before Eleanor and raises her eyebrow at her.
“Eleanor Brooke Hotchner, what have we said about you answering the door?” She says, grateful that she’s able to hide her amusement at her daughter's enthusiasm. Eleanor was such a happy little girl, always excited to see the people she loves, and Emily couldn’t help but wonder what she herself could have been like if Elizabeth had been a little more like the mother Emily always strove to be.
Eleanor looks up at her, her eyes wide in a way that Aaron always said she got from her, “Not to do it because it could be anybody.”
“Exactly,” Emily says, squeezing her shoulder, “We’ve got to be safe, right?”
“But Mommy it’s not just anybody it’s Aunt Haley, I saw her car,” Eleanor exclaims, almost bouncing back and forth on her feet with excitement at the prospect of seeing her favourite person outside of her direct family.
Emily shakes her head, and smiles, “Well, I guess we’d better let her in then, huh?” She turns and opens the door, smiling at her friend as she comes into view, her arms loaded with Pyrex dishes, “Hi Haley, sorry about that.”
“It’s ok,” she chuckles, the sparkle in her eyes letting her know she’s heard their conversation from outside, she looks down at Eleanor who smiles and rushes to Haley, wrapping her arms tight around her, “Well hello to you too, El.”
“Let Aunt Haley in the door at least, Ellie,” Emily says, reaching to take the food Haley had brought for them from her hands, “I’ll take these,” she says gratefully, “You know, you really don’t have to cook for us.”
“Well someone has to,” Haley replies, wrapping her arms around Eleanor and guiding her into the house, closing the door behind her, “Neither you nor Aaron can cook anything apart from boxed Mac and Cheese,” she quips, following Emily into the kitchen, Eleanor still wrapped around her, “Besides, it took my mind off of things.”
Emily pauses just before she puts the casseroles down and she turns to look at her friend. There was tension in her shoulders and a sense of sadness in her eyes, her smile a little tighter than usual, and Emily sighs.
“Ellie,” she says, turning her attention to her daughter, “Why don’t you go play for a little bit and then find all those drawings you did at school for Aunt Haley? I know she’d love to see them.”
“You did drawings for me?” Haley says, looking down at Ellie, her voice full of enthusiasm that was only partially exaggerated, “I’m excited to see them.”
“Ok!” Eleanor says, dislodging herself from Haley and running out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her bedroom. As soon as she is out of earshot, Emily leans against the kitchen counter and looks at Haley.
“Is this a glass of wine conversation or a coffee conversation?” She asks, and Haley chuckles humourlessly, sitting on one of the stools at the counter.
“Rick moved out today.”
Emily groans sympathetically, “Wine it is,” she says, placing her hand over her friends before she turns to the fridge, “What happened?”
Haley had met Rick several years ago at a work conference, and they’d hit it off. At first, Aaron had been unsure about the relationship, worried about his son spending so much time with someone he barely knew, and Emily had been the one to point out he’d moved on to her. That Haley had accepted someone else in her son’s life even if the road to where they were now was rocky at the start. Their friendship was forged the day Haley saved her from Ian. A case of being in the right place at the right time that led to where they were now - Emily and Aaron’s daughter calling the woman he once would have married ‘aunt.’
More recently, especially since Jack had left for college the year before, Haley’s relationship with Rick had seemed to slowly unravel. Ever since Haley was twenty her entire life had been about her son and doing the best for him that she could, and all of a sudden she had time to do what she wanted. It’s when the differences between her and the man she’d been with for 6 years started to show. She wanted to get married, but he didn’t. He wanted a kid, and she didn’t want to start all over again.
“We just…didn’t want the same things,” Haley says, smiling gratefully when Emily passes her a glass of wine, “He kept talking about kids and I’ve been so clear from the start that I didn’t want any more. I guess he thought I’d change my mind.”
“I’m sorry Haley,” she says, sitting next to her, “I know you love him.”
“Yeah,” she chokes out, “I do,” she shakes her head at herself and has a sip of wine, “I’m sure he’ll move on. Find someone a bit younger to have a family with, I seem to be a good practise long term girlfriend” she looks at Emily, and clears her throat, “Sorry, no offence.”
Emily smiles, “None taken.”
It was easy to forget sometimes that Haley and Aaron had ever been together. She wondered if it was because she’d never seen it. She’d come into their lives after they had already broken up. There were no romantic feelings between the two of them, but Emily knew that Aaron loved Haley as a friend and the mother of his son.
“Anyway, I came here to distract myself,” Haley says, “How are you?”
Emily blows out a breath, “Ok, I guess,” she replies, shrugging, “Work is pretty steady at the moment. Aaron is doing really well with his work.” Haley smiles at her indulgently, her eyebrow raised, “Are you really asking me about the baby thing?”
“Yes,” she answers immediately, her eyes sparkling, “I don’t want a baby of my own but I want to spoil another one of yours.”
Emily shakes her head, “Well, we are trying,” she says, “And if…” she swallows thickly, a tight smile spreading over her face, “If it happens you will be the first to know. Apart from Aaron of course.”
Haley reaches out and places her hand on Emily’s arm, “It will happen. I’m sure of it.”
Emily chuckles, “Well I’m glad someone is.”
A door flys open upstairs, and the time Eleanor had allowed them as she played had clearly come to an end.
“I found the drawings!”
Emily and Haley exchange a soft smile and then Emily shouts towards the stairs, “Come and show us, sweetie.”
___
Aaron picks up his briefcase and rolls his neck as he prepares to leave his office, excited to get home to his wife and daughter.
He’s barely made it into the hallway, still standing in the doorway of his office, when one of the assistant attorneys approaches him, a grim look on his face.
“Grant,” Aaron groans, “Please don’t tell me it’s a new case. Surely it can wait until morning. I’d quite like to get home.”
“No,” Grant says, shaking his head, “Nothing like that. Have you heard about what happened at Red Onion State?”
Aaron nods, “Yes, there was a riot. It’s being reported that it’s all under control now.”
“It is,” Grant replies, clearly choosing his words carefully, clearing his throat, “But…two prisoners escaped. Cell mates. The prison guards believe that the riot was started so they could get out.”
Aaron feels a pit form in his stomach and his chest gets tighter, a sense of foreboding that he can’t describe washing over him.
“Why are you telling me this? Is it someone I put away?”
Grant nods, “It’s George Foyet.”
Aaron sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose before looking back at the other man, “He escaped custody before his trial, he knows what he’s doing,” he shakes his head, “I assume they’ve followed the usual procedures.”
“State troopers are checking all vehicles in the surrounding area and every cop has an up-to-date photo of him, we’ll capture him.”
“Ok, thank you,” Aaron says, “I appreciate the heads up, at least I can tell my wife before it ends up on the news.”
George Foyet had made some pretty distinct threats towards Aaron when they were in court, and had twice had to be removed from the courtroom by order of the judge. When he told Emily about it she’d worried. Concerned that on the off chance Foyet did get found not guilty, he’d come after Aaron.
“Of course,” Grant says, and he turns to leave, but Aaron stops him.
“Who was the other prisoner? His cellmate?” Aaron asks out of curiosity, sure that whoever it was wouldn’t compare to the danger that George Foyet would pose to the general public.
“Oh,” Grant says, “Some guy who got put away for attempting to murder his ex-girlfriend,” he adds, shaking his head, “He tried to choke her to death in the middle of the street.”
Aaron feels everything slow down around him, his throat going dry as he tries to swallow against the fear that climbs up it, the taste of it bitter against his tongue.
He hoped he was wrong. That his instincts that were kicking in were incorrect. He couldn’t tell her this. Couldn’t tell his wife that the man who had caused her such pain, who still managed to sneak his way into her subconscious and haunt her in her dreams even after all this time, had escaped. It couldn’t be him.
It couldn’t be him.
“What’s his name?” He demands, his fists tight by his side and his jaw tense.
“Uh, I’d have to look again, he’s not-”
It couldn’t be him.
“His name, Anderson.”
Grant flinches at the use of his surname, at the way Aaron spits it out like its poison, “It’s Irish. Donavon? No. Doyle. His name is Ian Doyle.”
what the fuck is wrong with you how could you do this (i say like i didn’t come up with this in the middle of revolution in blackpool as i drank cocktails while you suffered the worst hangover you ever had)
