Love until it hurts. Real love is always painful and hurts; then it is real and pure.

Mother Theresa

*~*

"BEEP, BEEP, BEEP—BEEP, BEEP, BEEP—BEE-"

"Gahhh." Emily Prentiss groaned, after being rudely awakened by her alarm clock. She did what she did every morning; hit the snooze but and went back to sleep.

She rolled over and tried to grasp the last little bits of an ending dream. Someone tall, dark and handsome reaching for her. She was reaching back up to him; a person's face she didn't quite recognize. They're fingers almost touching....

"BEEP, BEEP, B—"

"Okay, Okay!" She cried, forcing herself up and turning the damn thing off. She never felt rested anymore. Emily stretched her arms to the side, wincing as her muscles protested the treatment. They were still incredibly sore from getting hit by a truck. Although worse damage could have been done, she contemplated. She had no lasting damage other than a concussion and sore body. She could have been Bunting...

Emily shook her head sharply to erase those thoughts. They would do her no good. She really couldn't have done anything to save him. Schrader had made sure of that.

Forcing those thoughts out of her mind again she concentrated on getting dressed. Perhaps her body would feel better after a nice jog. Just a nice and easy jog around Capitol Hill. Then a hot shower. Then coffee. Screw that, she'd drink her coffee on her jog.

Emily threw her hair up in a messy ponytail grabbed her sneakers and hit the pavement. She started off slow, working her body back into its natural rhythm. Running was when she did her best thinking. And since the accident she had been too sore to even think of attempting. But today her body was holding up. Good, she thought. Now she could put this whole mess behind her.

Instead of beating herself up about Bunting, she turned back to the wisps of the dream she had, had. She had always dreamed of a mysterious someone just within her reach. Sometimes his face was clear, pictured as John, or Mark Cooper, or anyone of the numerous guys she had 'fallen' in love with. In between men it reverted back to this strange gorgeous someone, whom she felt was familiar. Lately this dream had been cropping more and more instead of nightmares. And she wasn't complaining. She just wanted to know who she was dreaming about. It must be someone she had seen before....

"Oh well." She said to herself, shrugging it off as irrelevant. She'd meet her someone special someday. Hopefully someday soon. She was almost forty after all. Not that it mattered. But she felt as though she was ready to settle down. Possibly get married. Or not. She didn't need to be married, contrary to her mother's ideals.

Emily knew not to push her body too hard and ended her run earlier then she would have liked. It was still early morning, plenty of time to have a long hot shower and catch up on some news. She bounced up her stairs, feeling more invigorated and happy then normal and striped off all her sweaty clothes.

She busied herself in her bathroom, letting the shower really steam up and brushed her teeth. She was looking forward going back into work today. Hotch and Morgan had made the smooth transition of trading places once again, and things were getting back to normal. Normal for her. She doubted Hotch's life would be normal ever again. Not after losing a his highschool sweetheart and being left alone with a four year old. Emily did not envy him in anyway. Her respect shot up through the roof, and she made every offer to help him out. It was the least she could do. He was family; and she knew he would be there if she ever needed him. They had each other's backs.

She stepped in the shower and let the hot water smooth her back muscles. She was glad the team was back together in their proper places. Not that she had minded Morgan being the team leader. He did well, and would do well thereafter. But the team hadn't been the same.

"Oops." She said out loud after missing half her hand while she was trying to coax shampoo out of its bottle. She had always been terrible clumsy.

It happened so fast she didn't even have time to grab a hold of the curtain to break some of her fall. Her foot twisted out from under her, her body fell backwards and she crumpled to the bottom of the floor. Her head smacked the wall with so much force it knocked her unconscious.

*~*

The first thing Emily felt was water in her mouth. Her first thought was that she was drowning! She instinctively flailed her arms and legs out only to be gripped with such relentless pain that she thought she was dying. Through the pain she realized she could just spit the water out and she wasn't actually drowning.

She opened her eyes to see herself lying on the tub floor, skin very red from the incredibly hot water raining down on her. What had happened? The most logical explanation was that she had slipped and fell. No shit Sherlock, she thought, grimacing. Her entire body was on fire. Everywhere from her head to her feet.

Emily coughed out some more water. Thank god she had fallen face up instead of face down or she could have actually drowned. Even coughing sent sharp pains through her torso. What have I broken now? She mused. Just when things were getting good too. Emily moved her one good arm to lift herself up. No, no, no....she cried her head when it was too painful. She tried assessing her situation.

She already knew her left shoulder was dislocated. She couldn't use that arm at all. And she probably had another concussion from the pounding headache. Her neck seemed fine but stiff. Her right arm she used to shut off the shower head and turn off the water. Possible broken rib or ribs? She thought. Her chest ached tremendously. Her legs seemed to be sore but in working condition. And she had a twisted, possibly sprained, possibly broken ankle. She couldn't tell as it was already swollen and bruised. Her chest was bruised. Damn, her body was bruised.

She did the only she could do at the moment. Curse. Her voice was in perfect working order except for the occasional 'ahh!' or 'oowww'.

Emily tried raising herself again. It was still very painful, but she managed to sit up. Now what she needed was her cellphone. To call for help. But her body did not want to move and get out of the tub.

"Damn you." She cursed, her previously happy mood completely forgotten. How was she going to get out of here? There was no way she could even get up on her knees and crawl out. She was already ready to pass out from the pain.

"Come......on......you......damn.....towel." She scooted her body over inch by inch. If she was getting help she did not want them to see her naked!

"Finally!" She breathed as her towel fell off its hanger into a more reachable position. Oh god she hurt. Emily struggled to wrap it around herself. Moving her shoulder every little bit killed.

Now that she had a towel, how was she going to get out of here? She couldn't lift herself with one good leg and stand up without pain. And she didn't think she could push through it. She would pass out and land on the floor, creating more potential harm.

Well I can't wait for anyone to rescue me, she deliberated. I should at least try. She got her leg up, ready to push herself up with the wall of the tub, only to realize that required putting pressure on her back. Which hurt like hell.

"Damnit!" She cursed again, going back to her original position.

"Help!" She cried loudly. Well no one likely heard that, she thought. She'd have to scream. Her neighbours should wake up and investigate.

"HELP ME! HELP! Ah!" She cried afterwards. That hurt as well. But she had to continue.

After a few minutes, of what she felt pointless screaming, no one came. She listened carefully for footsteps, knocking on her door. Nothing. Zilch. Zip. "Fucking neighbours." She swore.

"SOMEONE PLEASE COME AND HELP ME! I CAN'T GET UP!" She tried. Still nothing. If she kept screaming like this she'd quickly lose her voice. And then be all alone. Who would find her? Surely someone from the team would wonder where she was. They would look for her eventually. In the afternoon probably. She didn't want to wait that long.

"HELP! PLEASE!" She screamed every few minutes. She was beginning to get very frustrated that no one was investigating why someone was screaming in an apartment. Surely someone would have complained. They couldn't have all left.

Emily didn't even know what time it was. She did not know how long she had been passed out. Probably not to, to long as the water was still hot. She had spent at least twenty minutes, or a half hour laying here, screaming her head off. She guessed it wasn't even 8:30 yet. But she did not want to spend a few hours laying here, suffering in pain. It was enough to make her lip quiver. Only quiver. She refused to cry in this situation. Someone would come. Eventually.

This time she just screamed. It really hurt her back, and left her breathless. Maybe that would send someone running.

"E-fmhy?" Her breath stopped as she swore she heard something downstairs.

"SOMEONE HELP ME!" She yelled again.

Then she heard a satisfying BANG. She was saved! She heard whoever it was stomp up her stairs.

"E-FMH-LY?" She heard again. She couldn't pinpoint the person but they definitely knew her. Likely the doorman.

"In here!" She called, wrapping the towel tighter around her. She felt so relieved. Until he walked into her bathroom. She saw the polished shoes, dark suit, pale concerned face, dark hair.

Oh god.

"Hi." She said weakly to her boss.

Aaron Hotchner's face was priceless. And speechless. "What's wrong? What happened? What's going on?" He shot off after a moment too long of just staring at her.

She took another deep breath. "I slipped and fell. I think I dislocated my shoulder, among other things. I can't get up." Emily told him.

He approached the tub and knelt down to examine her injuries. "Emily, where is the blood coming from?"

"Blood?" She asked confused. She hadn't noticed any blood...

"Do...you mind?" Hotch asked, asking permission to touch her head.

"Sure."

Emily winced as he touched a spot. "It's just a cut...it's not deep...probably superficial. Where else?" He leaned back and she saw his fingertips bloodied. It gave her a very surreal feeling in the pit of her stomach. Her bottom lip quivered again.

"Um...well my back, my ribs. Oh and my ankle." She jerked her head towards her foot. "But don't touch it. It really hurts." She said as he went to inspect it.

"What are you doing here?" She suddenly asked. Hotch had obviously come by her apartment for something. That was strange of him. Lucky for her he had, or who knows how long she would have waited.

"It was nothing important. Do you want me to call an ambulance?" He looked her in the eye.

"No, no, no." She did not want an ambulance coming and making a big scene. "Can you just drive me to the hospital please?"

She watched him have an internal debate. Finally he agreed. "Um...how should I lift you up?"

"Oh." Emily blushed furiously. "It's just; my towel...isn't quite secure. I only have one arm..." She trailed off. He didn't seem to be affected.

"That's alright. Tell me if it hurts." He crouched down, slipped an arm around her back and her knees and carefully tried to lift her. Emily bit her lower lip and buried her face in a hand. She was not going to cry out now. Not in her bosses arms!

By the time he set her down on her bed she had tears streaming down her face. Emily tried desperately to hide them, wiping them away immediately.

"Are you ok?" Hotch asked her honestly, bending down to be at her eye level.

"Yup." She lied, breathless. "You probably don't want to go in that towel..." He looked over her again.

"Yeah. Umm. There should be like some pants in the second drawer and just grab a t-shirt."

"Anything else?"

"No. I guess I'm not going to work today. Haha. Ow." She hissed.

"No Prentiss, you might be out for a while." He dug through her clothes and took out a pair of yoga pants and a blue t-shirt.

"Sorry." She felt the need to blurt out. "Why?" He asked, handing her the T-shirt. It felt so surreal to be sitting naked on her bed wrapped in a towel facing her boss. She would never live this down.

"Just...that you have to be in this situation...helping me. It's weird that's all." Emily finished lamely, fiddling with a loose string from the clothes in her lap. She couldn't even look him in the face.

"Don't be sorry at all. It was an accident. Emily, really. It's no trouble."

She shrugged and attempted to dress herself. There was no way she could do that by herself.

"Do you want me to turn around or something?" He offered.

"No." She said in a small voice, trying not to let her frustrations out. "Can you just?—thanks."

Hotch helped her get the yoga pants on. Emily could feel his fingertips brush her skin and it sent all kinds of goosebumps on her skin. When was the last time she had been touched by a man? No! Don't think of that now! She mentally slapped herself.

"Here." He looped a t-shirt sleeve onto her useless arm and helped her into it. Finally she was able to remove the wet towel and be at least somewhat clothed.

"Thanks." She said gratefully. "What are you doing here anyways?" She asked. He gave her an amused look.

"You already asked me that. And I just happened to be in the neighbourhood. It's nothing important."

"You heard me from outside?"

"No. Emily, do you need like socks and shoes?" He changed the subject.

"Yeah, I have sneakers downstairs. And I'll need my purse. And my cellphone wherever that unhelpful damn thing is." She grumbled.

"Wait here." Hotch left to gather the things she wanted. While he was gone she tried to do something with her wet, messy and apparently bloody hair. She was cursing at it and trying not to let it bother her when he came back.

"What's the matter?" He asked.

"Nothing. My hair. I can't put it up." She wiped the blood from her hair on the wet towel. Hotch grabbed a hair elastic from her dresser and offered to do it for her.

"I'm not very good at this." He told her, taking a hold of her wet hair and tying it up. He placed her sneakers and purse in her lap.

"Ready?" He asked. Emily nodded. She knew it would be painful any which way. She bite her lip again as he lifted her up and exited her bedroom. This time her right arm was wrapped around his shoulders and she gripped them firmly. Harshly. But he didn't show any discomfort.

"Ow! Careful!" She hissed after her damaged foot almost hit an edge.

"Sorry." He said. "You don't need a coat right?"

"No. I'll be fine. Thanks."

She felt him struggle to open the door with one hand. Finally he got it open and he carried her through the brightly lit hallway. In such harsh light she reflected on how strange this situation was. Her boss was her knight in shining armour at this point. While she was embarrassed, she was even more grateful. She would much rather Hotch then the old grisly doorman.

*~*

Back again! Please read and review (and most importantly enjoy).

This is just a short fic, however if there is demand for a longer exploration then I'll give it a go. If not, I will update the second part in a few days.

See disclaimer on my profile to what I own (which is nothing as we all know).

~Lemony~