Rating, Disclaimer, Warnings, & Pairings:

K+; I do not own Criminal Minds nor its characters; Violence, team-fiction; [mainly]Prentiss/Hotch, [implied]Haley/Hotch, Reid-JJ friendship, JJ/Will, [slight]Garcia-Morgan banter, [slight]Garcia/Kevin.

Please take note that this fan-fiction story will involve more than just romance. It will most likely contain more drama and action.

Notes: This story is actually more focused on the relationship between Hotch and Prentiss. There will be small cases but it is not solely based on them so please be warned this fiction will more than likely contain incorrect medical terms/uses and keep in mind that the cases will not be many chapters long.

This is the last chapter that will updated in a little while. Happy Thanksgiving guys.

Love is Forever

.

.

Summary:

It began as love, continued as car crash and ended as amnesia. Four long, terrible months ago. Hotch wasn't getting better. Prentiss had to deal. And now Hotch was back. And he still didn't remember. And Prentiss still had to deal. H/P, team fiction

.

.

NIGHT HOTELS

.

.

IT didn't surprise Hotch that David Rossi would volunteer to share one of the three available rooms in the hotel with him. He heard that Morgan paired up with Reid which wasn't too much of a shocker either and that left the two women, Prentiss and Jareau, together in the third room. Hotch didn't remember the last time he had to share a room with anyone.

But it didn't really bother him, especially when they all realized that there were two small beds instead of one king sized bed. It wasn't that Hotch was afraid of sleeping with his best friend, that if he slept with said best friend that happened to be male, it might arouse some unwanted vibes or feelings within him, it was more of the frightening aspect to be sharing a bed with anyone period, regardless of gender.

Haley had been the last person he got into bed with and fuck that felt like a long time ago. Four months was a definite long time but he supposed it was longer – even if his memories told him otherwise – like two fucking years longer. In times like these he really wished he could remember. These people that seemed more than co-workers and not Haley. His job and not Haley. His son and not Haley.

But every time he closed his eyes, he could see her; a beautiful woman with long blonde hair and a gorgeous face staring back at him, beckoning him to come home and talk to her, to tell her how his day went, to ask him what he did. She liked to cook for him. She liked to sit back at the table and stare at him and smile sweetly and put her soft, delicate hands on top of his and whisper sweet nothings into his ears that neither soothed him nor comforted him.

Hotch made love to her in his dreams. He made love to her over and over and told her he'd come back to her soon, that he was trying so goddamn hard to get to her and she just had to wait and wait and wait for him.

"Haley's dead, right?" he asked as Rossi peered over his book to look back at him.

Rossi shifted uncomfortably from under the covers. Hotch looked at him expectantly. It was kind of fascinating to see Rossi look so uncomfortable, squirming to try and answer his friend. Hotch never knew this side of Rossi before. Maybe the old Hotch had witnessed this rare behavior from his long time best friend but the Hotch with amnesia didn't. It felt like he was witnessing something incredible, something that only happened once a lifetime.

"She is," he said quietly.

Hotch had known for four months now that his wife was dead but he needed confirmation. Returning to an empty apartment night after night didn't do much for him. Then later on visiting Jack, his son and future son at the same time, still didn't do anything. It was like Hotch was picking up a book that happened to be titled Aaron Hotchner's Life and flipping through the pages, skimming quickly through the contents inside.

It was like he just suddenly woke up into someone else's life that everyone around him told him was his own. It didn't feel like it was his. Too many things had been accomplished without his knowledge, too many things wiped from his mind.

"And Jack's my son. Mine and Haley's before she died," he said plainly.

Rossi shifted again, trying to adjust to a more comfortable position on his bed. He set the book on the nightstand beside him. "Yes," he said.

Hotch sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He remembered his visit to Jessica's home. He remembered the happiness on her face when she first saw him, that he had looked so alive and well and normal to her. Then it morphed to worry when Hotch saw Jack come bouncing over to meet with him. He had picked him up immediately because he sensed it was the right thing to do, because it was what the old Hotch would have done. The new Hotch looked at Jack like he was a stranger because in a small sense, he kind of was.

"She divorced me because I loved my work more than her," he said, remembering what the doctor and Jessica and everyone else had told him of what happened in the past fifteen or so years. Dear God he had missed so much. Sleep for just one day and you miss a third of your life.

"You didn't love work more than her, Aaron," he heard Rossi chide gently. "Your work just got in the way and she couldn't take it anymore. It was her breaking point."

Aaron looked down. God, he seemed to be hearing the same thing every day, just from different mouths. It was like they all rehearsed the same shit in front of the mirror just for him. "Her breaking point wasn't because my job got in the way," he heard himself say loudly. He met Dave's eyes dead-on. "The serial killer broke her and now she's beyond repair. Dave, I can't fix it. God, I just can't."

And it was true. He couldn't.