Chapter Text
Emily Prentiss had never felt pain like this. Granted, she's felt her fair share of physical pain. She had a history of getting herself in sticky situations that left her slightly worse for the wear. But, this time, she wasn't just facing physical pain. The emotional turmoil was enough to drive the most level-headed people insane. This wasn't an ordinary case.
Before joining the BAU, Emily was deep undercover. She doesn't like to talk about her time with Ian Doyle, but the boy she tried to save always held a soft spot in her heart. She wasn't the type of person to be careless, especially not after she'd seen the things that came with her job description, but when she received a letter from Declan, she didn't think twice before contacting him. That's how she ended up here.
"Good morning, Lauren. Or should I say Emily? Sorry. Tough habit to break," the blond man said with a sickening grin. Emily had been tied up in a room she didn't recognize for almost 72 hours.
"Let me go, Declan. I promise I can make things okay for you. I'm sorry for how things have panned out for you so far. I could've done something. No, I should've done something. I'm sorry. I–"
"You're damn right you should've done something. You left an innocent boy in the hands of the weakest bitch on earth. You should've known she wasn't a match for Dad." Declan was starting to get angry. He had revealed that shortly after Emily had left him in the hands of Louise, Doyle found them. Louise was dead, and Doyle was free to raise Declan as the soldier he always wanted him to be. Years of manipulation had resulted in successfully turning the boy into just another ruthless unsub.
With another kick to her already battered ribs, Declan left the room once again. She could only hope he wouldn't return for some time. Although she was terrified, the pure exhaustion overwhelmed her as she succumbed to the sudden urge to sleep. She dreamed of what she once believed to be better times.
"I love you, Emily. No matter what happens, I need you to know that." Aaron Hotchner had shown up at her doorstep in the middle of the night after a long day of trying to hunt down Foyet. With no luck, he realized he needed to take Jack and Haley into Witness Protection. It wasn't an easy decision, but he knew it was the only way to ensure his family's safety. Divorced or not, he needed to make sure Haley stayed alive to be there for Jack. After telling Emily about the plan, they ended up in bed. They knew that this could be their last chance for a good memory. There were a lot of risks they were taking, and neither could promise a bright outcome.
"Aaron, don't treat this like a goodbye. We'll find him, we'll put him away, and when you come back, I'll say those same words back to you. But, Aaron, we have to trust it'll all be okay in the end." Knowing several of those promises were products of wishful thinking, Hotch wiped the silent tears from her face and hugged her a little tighter.
"I will come back to you, Emily. Nothing can change that. Especially not that bastard."
"I want to believe you're right, but, please, don't make promises you can't keep. Let's just cherish the time we have. " She put on a forced smile and snuggled back down into the comfort of his embrace. Sighing, he realized she was right. He rolled them to where he was able to hover over her and kissed her, trying to convey more passion than he had ever packed into a kiss. Sharing his thoughts about how long it could be until they saw each other again, she kissed him back with fervor. Forever without him was seeming too real.
Emily woke up with a start and realized she had been crying. Declan had reentered the room with a knife. Terrified for her safety, Emily dissociated. She had to get her mind off of the pain. Why hasn't he killed me yet? She thought as he meticulously sliced open parts of her abdomen. She knew he'd mend the wounds in a few hours to keep her from reaching the pleasantness of death.
With tears in her eyes, she thought about recent events. J.J. had asked her if she had a tampon. It had to be because of stress. She was thrown into the job of acting unit chief. It was a lot of work. Her body was adjusting to the new workload. Her period would arrive in no time.
"I can't be, Jayje." Emily denies her friend's suggestion. Damn, she hates profilers.
"Em, just please take a t–"
"Jennifer, drop it!" Emily cuts her off with a tone of anger and coldness that J.J. had never heard from her best friend.
"Okay. Let me know when you're ready to get your head out of your ass and start facing facts because you can't hide away in his office and ignore reality forever. We've had this conversation before, and I'm done playing nice. In the meantime, think about what this means, and no alcohol or caffeine." J.J. sees the shock on Emily's face. She lets out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding for weeks, gives her a tight smile, and walks out of the office.
She remembers her first sonogram when she was 10 weeks along. She couldn't stop thinking 'he'll come back.' She remembers the first time she heard her baby's heartbeat. She couldn't stop thinking 'we'll find him.' She cried every night for the first few weeks until it slowly lessened in frequency. By the time she was 40 weeks along, she was convinced everything would be okay.
When the doctor handed Emily her daughter, the previous thought was reinforced. "Have you thought about a name yet, Emily?" Rossi asked, watching the new mother-daughter pair with a twinge of sadness for the missing piece of the picture. They still hadn't found Foyet, so Hotchner was still in protective custody. No one knew where he was, let alone how to contact him about the new addition to his family.
"Emilia Grace Hotchner-Prentiss," Emily replies with tears threatening to spill over. "Lia for short." Everyone hears the unspoken significance about the chosen last name. That's the moment when they knew they all had to be there for Emily in the coming weeks, months, and maybe years. She'd need help, and she wasn't going to ask for it.
When she realized Declan had stopped cutting and had started tending to her wounds, she was once again overcome with sadness. She wanted to go home to her daughter. No, she needed to go home to her daughter. And she had to stop thinking about Hotch. It wasn't helping.
"Declan, why are you doing this? None of this makes sense. I know you think I abandoned you, and maybe I did, but I have a daughter. She's sixteen. I need to get home to her, Dec."
Without responding, Declan exits the room, not to return until it was time to feed her.