Hey! First thing I would like to do is to send some love to the people who reviewed my first story. They were all so sweet, so I thought I'd write a second story. I'll take whatever you have to say because I'm always looking to improve whatever I need to, so remember to review afterwards! =D

And also for the people who want a second part to Unexpected, I'm not that sure since I'm very afraid that a second part would kill it. =\

The first time Emily Prentiss jumped down the rabbit hole was when she was fifteen. It was too dark, and she never liked dark places. She wasn't ready either. She was scared and confused. One voice told her to jump. Another told her to stay. But her teenage self desperately wanted to fit in. With no solid friends and no permanent address, she wanted to be part of something better and find her home. She was tired of being outside. Inside was where she wanted to be. Being accepted by anyone was her wish. And when that boy said he really liked her, it was enough to convince her right then and there.

So she put her fears and confusion aside, and with eyes closed, Emily held her breath and jumped, following him.

Down, down and down Emily found herself falling. The fall was too long, and it hurt like hell. Emily never imagined it would hurt so much, but it did. She wanted to cry, but each tear was held in. And when she finally crashed, Emily was more relieved than ever. She did get bruises, and when he asked if she was alright, she lied. She never wanted to jump down and follow a boy again she told herself as she found her way back up and out of the hole.

But Emily did again and again because she still had no solid friends or a permanent address.

After a while, the falling got simpler and faster. The bruises she usually got didn't hurt much anymore. She was becoming immune to it. She stopped considering her feelings and how it would feel afterwards. It soon became a journey Emily could do routinely. He liked her, and she wanted to make him happy. And when he took that extra step, she jumped and followed him down without hesitation. For few moments, Emily blocked everything that piled up in her world go because she was accepted. She hated herself a little more each time. And when it ended, she always found her way back out.

The trips came to a halt one day after she came out of the hole though. A plus sign glared at her. So Emily stopped jumping and following the boys. She stopped making them happy. She lost that brief acceptance.

But now Emily, over two decades later, found herself going down that familiar journey again. Only this time she was falling further and further. She was supposed to be older and wiser, but when it came to Aaron Hotchner, that knowledge disappeared. Emily saw his world and how much he hurt. He was broken under that tough exterior. After his attack by Foyet, he leaned on her. More than she ever thought he could or would and further than they both expected, but he did. She didn't mind it though. He didn't want words. He was struggling. He wanted to feel something beside the pain and sadness and for the time, she was willing to give him whatever he wanted and needed from her. And if there was anyone that could get her to jump down into that hole again, Emily knew it would be him.

She met him whenever he called and needed her, and she came, literally and figuratively. It was something she could do to show him he wasn't alone. He had her in his world. And she wanted to be in his world, even if it was just briefly. Emily actually felt like this was her home. She felt the connection to him in more ways than one every time he slid into her. They simply fit like puzzle pieces. And she took in his frustrations and pain with each of his movements into her. That was how he was sharing. Emily kept in as much as he would let go into her and along with what she felt, she became a box of emotions. She didn't care though. She did always compartmentalize. What was a little more than what she felt? She wanted him to feel good for however long it was to be.

Tonight was different though. It started out like any other time they got together. The cases with families always affected him more now one way or another. They had a case in Arizona, and the dead mothers and sons with the fathers left alone with no one plagued his mind all week long and took a toll on everyone. No one wanted to stay any longer than they had to, so they all arrived back home at near three in the morning. He wanted to see his son. The case reminded him too much of what it could have been. But it was late, and he knew seeing his son now would be impossible. He wanted contact and to let go of his frustrations. He wanted his attention diverted to something else. He wanted to be pacified. So when Hotch looked at Emily, she knew what he needed and wanted and she gave him a slight nod.

But now as Hotch tried to catch his breath, he stared down long and almost hard at Emily with her flushed cheeks and dark hair splayed across the pillow that smelled of him. She stared back with her chest heaving. The last time they made eye contact like this was after the first time. He tried avoiding it every time after that. And finally when he was calmed and his breath and body were steady, he pulled out, his eyes never leaving her as he did. He moved away from her soon enough though, and the sticky skin to skin contact was ripped apart. Those seven inches away from her felt like seven miles. Then like the other nights he'd pull the covers over them, making sure she was always covered and warm despite her body burning like a fire because of him.

"You okay?" He'd always quietly ask her after with his eyes still trying his best to avoid her.

Her answer was always the same with her eyes on him. "Yeah… I'm good."

Then silence was to ensue for a while because they rarely, if ever, talked after. They didn't know what to say and a part of her knew if he talked, he would unravel. So their breathing was the only thing heard before his lips tentatively touched her temple, and he whispered his goodnight and shut off the lamp beside him. And then as always they slept with the seven inches always unexpectedly reducing to an inch or two when his alarm went off and signaled her to get out of bed to go home and get ready. It had been their routine for the last few months now.

This time though, he caught her by surprise when his eyes were directly staring at her when he asked, "You okay?"

"Yeah… I'm good," she hesitated a little. This was different. He was different. She could see it. "Are you?" The hesitation was still present in her voice. She couldn't ever remember asking him that.

Hotch remained silent a while longer as he continued to stare at her, his eyes appearing to soften the longer he looked at her next to him in his bed. "Yeah… I'm good." His voice was low and almost vulnerable as he moved his eyes away from her to the ceiling.

Her eyes studied him for a minute. His eyes looked straight above him with his hand on his naked chest.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Emily didn't think before she asked. She hadn't realized she even asked until the words slipped off her lips.

Hotch didn't look at her after she asked. His eyes closed momentarily before opening them up again. His attention still focused on the ceiling for a while before he spoke.

"It's just the case."

Emily believed him, but there was something else to it too. But she wouldn't press him. He let go already. So she nodded slightly beside him on the pillow. The silence resumed, their almost synchronized breathing was the only thing heard. They've already talked more than any other night. She wanted to tell him he could talk to her. She could help him in more than what she was currently giving him. All he needed was to talk. He needed to take the first step. She turned to him, and watched him for a moment. His eyes never moved to her before her attention shifted to where his eyes were staring at. She quietly waited for him to give her that kiss on her temple and whisper her goodnight before shutting off the lamp beside him. She listened to him breathe and waited but it never came. Instead his hoarse and unwavering voice cut through the silence.

"I haven't slept in a week. Since that first night in Arizona, I haven't slept. All I saw was Jack. And Haley. And Foyet."

That was unexpected.

It sounded like a confession from him. Emily turned to face him once again, but he still wouldn't look at her. Haley was gone. Foyet was gone. But Jack was alive. He was safe. That was the only difference from his case and the Arizona cases. His son survived. But she realized what he was thinking. She realized the moment the words left his mouth that he was seeing what could have been for him. How he would have lost his son if Foyet had beat him. How he would be left alone like those fathers with no one. She wanted to tell him he wouldn't ever be though. He had the team. He had her. But those words never left her lips.

"Jack's okay. He's safe. You saved him." Her voice was soft. That was what he needed to hear. He still refused to look at her.

"I know." His response was simple. The silence resumed again. He took a deep breath.

"You'll see him tomorrow."

"I know."

There was something else though. Something else was different for him. Emily knew there was something else. She was a profiler after all. But again, she would never press him. She would not be persistent. If it was work, she would not back down. But this was not work. This was different. They were in his bed. They were stripped down. They were raw.

"Get some sleep then." That was all Emily said. Her eyes never left him.

Hotch stayed quiet for another moment longer before he took another deep breath. "I can sleep tonight. After a week of not sleeping, I can sleep tonight." She heard the fear and hesitation in his quiet words.

And that was when he turned to look at her, his eyes almost pleading. It was another confession, all wrapped in subtext.

She was why he could sleep tonight.

Her heart pushed against her chest the longer he looked at her. The fear that resided in his voice resided in his eyes. This current comfort she provided was more than what she apparently thought it was. He was getting close to her, and he was scared. That wasn't supposed to happen. Their eyes held together, neither saying a word, until he reluctantly closed his eyes as if he was giving up. She didn't move for a minute. She still didn't say anything.

Instead Emily rose a little. Clutching the covers to her chest, Emily moved towards Hotch and placed her lips on his temple before reaching over and shutting off the lamp with the seven inches between them already beginning to diminish as she lay down beside him once again.

And as she drifted off to sleep, the sound of Hotch's quiet breathing steadying into a rhythm, Emily realized the more she jumped and followed after him down the rabbit hole, the harder it was to pull herself out.