two years before

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He had no choice but wait; wait until someone would walk up to him and talk to him. There was no clock on any of the walls, and he still wasn't able to think clearly, so he had no idea for how long he had already been standing there. It felt like hours had already passed.

From time to time, Morgan or JJ would speak up, but he wouldn't reply. He wasn't able to and he also didn't want to. The rest of the team was waiting in the anteroom, but Hotch couldn't bother less about them. All he could think about was her.

The fact that she hadn't worn her vest made him feel sick in the stomach. Why hadn't she worn her vest? They had promised each other years ago, and it had been her wish to do so; so why the hell hadn't she worn it?

Tears continued to stream down his cheeks, the urge to throw up growing ever stronger.

Two years ago:

"God, I'm going to die", Emily groaned after she had thrown up heavily once more. Hotch flushed the toilet and rested one hand on her shoulder. "I'm never going to drink again!"

He smirked, knowing that she would rethink this declaration as soon as hangover would pass.

"I suppose it's been a long night then?", he asked.

When she had returned from her night out with JJ and Penelope, he had already been asleep. He had planned on staying awake until she arrived home, but around 2 am, his eyelids had become very heavy and he had fallen asleep with a book on his chest.

"Too long", his wife groaned, resting her forehead on her arm.

"Come on, let's get you back to bed", Hotch smiled. "I'll bring you a bucket in case you need to throw up again."

"Gross", Emily muttered, but let him help her getting up.

Aaron couldn't help but smirk about her, the way she still couldn't quite measure the amount of alcohol her body was able to take, even in her mid-thirties. She had always been a huge fan of drinking and going to bars, unlike him, but the hangover which followed always made her regret that.

After he had pulled out some comfortable clothes for her - a jogger and a T-Shirt that actually belonged to him - he watched her change with slight amusement.

Her make-up was smeared across her face, her eyes surrounded by a black color, of what he believed used to be her mascara. She hadn't bothered to change her clothes or to take off her make-up when she had returned home the previous night; she had just fallen into bed.

"I should take a shower", she mumbled as she slipped his shirt over head, his scent giving her the chills, even though she still felt like she was going to throw up any minute again.

"Later", Hotch replied. "I think you should get some sleep, first."

"Probably", Emily yawned and crawled beneath the blanket. "Will you lie with me?"

"I'm just going to get that bucket", he chuckled. "And then I'll be right there."

When he returned about a minute later, she had already fallen asleep. Hotch smiled to himself as he placed the bucket next to her side of the bed, taking in the image in front of him.

The last time he had seen her like this; in his clothes with ruined make-up, had been after their wedding. They had managed to finally get married about two months ago, at Rossi's mansion, with just their closest friends. It had been perfect, and just the way they had wanted it.

He still remembered how they had woken up together the next day, the first time as husband and wife, both of them terribly hung over, but the happiest ever. Emily had looked exactly like she was doing in that moment, and even though he really hoped that she would feel better soon, he couldn't help but smile at the memory.

Slowly, trying not to wake her, he climbed into their bed. Almost immediately, Emily turned around and crawled closer to him, rest her head on his chest.

"I love you", she muttered, half-asleep.

"I love you, too", Hotch smiled and wrapped his left arm around her back, slowly caressing it. He soon felt how her breath evened out more and more as she drifted off to sleep.

He knew that she wasn't a huge fan of it, but he couldn't help but watch her as she slept. He told her way too less, but every time he looked at her, he realized that she was the only thing that made him love his life. Before he had met her, he had always felt like he was just existing, without any real purpose apart from working.

When he had been younger, at high-school, he had not exactly been the kind of person people wanted to talk to, as he was brutally honest and his introverted behavior often led others to believe that he was really unfriendly.

And he had been fine with it, he had had two close friends, and for a short period of time even dated this girl called Haley. However, he had never really felt like his life was of great importance and he had never really valued it.

Looking back, he deeply regretted that. Emily had shown him that time had to be valued, as every one would run out of it at some point, and no matter when this case would happen, in the end, it would have never been enough.

There had been a time where had obsessively thought about what would happen to him after his time ran out, after death, but Emily had told him more than once that he should stop obsessing over things he would never be able to answer.

"Don't think about the past and the future that much", she had smiled softly. "There is so much going on in the presence that we should appreciate before it's gone."

Oh, how right she had been. Looking back, Hotch knew that he had valued every second with her - but had he valued it enough? Can you even value something enough?

7 years - HotchnissWhere stories live. Discover now