** WARNING**

This story contains both rape and drug use. If you are underage do not read. If this offends you - do not read. You have been warned!!!

The charaters are not mine. I am just borrowing them, and will return them later :)

Unforgiveable

Emily tapped hesitantly on Hotch's apartment door. She checked her watch, it was still only 9am on a Sunday morning, and she felt guilty about waking him when they'd barely slept in the past week.

She rapped again, louder this time.

"Hotch! Its Emily. I think I left my phone here when I dropped you off yesterday."

Emily heard the locks on the heavy door creak and it swung open.

"Sorry, I think... Hotch??" she gasped, taking in his appearance. The crumpled dark shirt and jeans, clearly been slept in, his unshaven face and unruly hair both concerned and amused her. She resisted the urge to giggle.

"Big night huh?"

"Emily?" he gazed at her, unfocusedly, seemingly confused.

"Are you okay?"

"What are you doing here?" he replied somewhat coldly.

"Sorry to wake you. Have you seen my phone? I think I must have left it here yesterday."

"What? You're awaiting a call? On a Sunday morning? What are you really doing here Prentiss? Why can't you just back the hell off! I am NOT interested!"

"Hotch?" Emily gasped, stepping backwards into the hallway involuntarily. "Whats...?"

"Please leave. Now." He turned to close the door in her face but she held it open, unnerved by his icy attitude. Had he been drinking?

"But..?"

He glared at her furiously. "I told you to leave Prentiss. Im fine, and I don't need your goddamn mothering"

"Okay, but can I come in, just for a minute, Im worried about you"

He stepped back, opening the door with a callous laugh "Sure come right in then, make yourself at home."

Emily stepped into his living room warily, her eyes scanning the area for empty liquor bottles. She didn't think Hotch was much of a drinker, and his actions didn't really suggest it, but then.. what?

Emily's musings were interrupted when Hotch suddenly grabbed her forearm. Tightly.

"Come on, I need you to see something." He pulled her towards another room, further into the apartment, which she had never entered before.

"Ow! Hotch what are you doing. Let me go."

"I need you to see something. Now."

Still holding her now bruised forearm he threw her roughly into the other room, her shins colliding painfully with the foot of his bed. She put her free hand out in an attempt to steady herself but instead fell awkwardly, face first, onto the bed.

"For god's sake Hotch! What the hell has gotten into you?" She rolled onto her back and attempted to sit up.

He laughed, but the laugh was without humour or warmth and it made her shudder. He quickly grabbed her shoulders and pushed her down onto the mattress with his weight on top of her. His eyes were cold and empty and she gazed up at him in shock and bewilderment.

Panicking, Emily placed her hands on his ribcage and pushed with all the force she could muster, but he barely even moved. She managed to scratch his neck with her fingernails and hissed in pain.

"You know you want this Prentiss. Im just giving you what you want."

Emily slapped him across the face, hard, screaming at him to get off her. He moved his lips to her neck and began kissing her. She let out a small cry of pain when she felt him bite the skin close to her collarbone. What was wrong with him? Why was he doing this to her?

It was true she had secretly loved Hotch for a long time now, would have done anything for him. Although they had never discussed their feelings, and nothing had ever happened between them, she was confident that he felt the same way. It was kind of an unspoken agreement, a line they would never cross or acknowledge. For years she had been dreaming of them being together, but not like this, never like this. This was a side of him that she had never seen before and it horrified her.

Hotch bent to kiss her again, shifting his weight slightly as he moved his mouth further down her chest, his arms still pinning her shoulders down. As he moved, Emily seized the opportunity, moving her right leg from under his she delivered a swift kick to his groin.

"You.... bitch!" He let out a howl of pain and glared at her, retaliating with a sharp backhand to her jaw, momentarily stunning her. Using this to his advantage, he released her shoulders and grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head with one of his hands. With the other hand he began unbuttoning her blouse, his knees digging painfully into her thighs, holding them down and preventing her from kicking again.

Emily was terrified. Finally realising that he fully intended her rape her she began to cry.

"Don't do this Hotch. This is not you.. Don't do this".

"Shhh.. Its okay, I wont hurt you."

Emily couldn't move and felt completely helpless as he finished unbuttoning her blouse and moved to her bra. He had it open in seconds and leered down at her, she couldn't move her arms to cover herself and felt her cheeks burning with shame.

His hand drifted to her legs and she felt him pulling up her skirt, his hand gripping her panties. She forced herself to stare at the bedroom wall next to her, her mind in denial, still not really processing that this was real.

With one swift move Hotch ripped her panties down, his fingernails scratching the soft skin of her stomach and hips. It stung, and she bit her lip and groaned. She felt utterly helpless and worthless, her arms still pinned above her head and completely incapable of defending herself against his onslaught. In a blind panic of tears she began begging.

"Hotch, please don't do this. Please. Don't hurt me please."

"It's okay.. Just relax, I won't hurt you".

"Hotch please don't". He moved to place his free hand lightly across her mouth.

"Shhh.. Its okay."

She heard his zipper open and felt his knees edging her thighs apart. His hand moved downwards, between her legs. She shut her eyes as she felt his fingers touching her. Softly, carefully and with an unexpected gentleness which sickened her, he parted her folds and she whimpered.

Keeping her eyes shut Emily willed herself to be silent as he entered her suddenly and forcefully. Failing miserably, she let out a shriek of pain and shock, her body arching up against his involuntarily. Her eyes opened and he hovered above her, for a split second their eyes met and he stilled. A moment of confusion passed through his eyes before they resumed their coldness and he began to thrust, deeply and roughly.

Emily shut her eyes again and prayed for it to be over. The pain was immense, she had no idea sex could be this excruciating. How much longer would she have to bear it? Even with her eyes closed the image of him looking down at her, unfocused and in confusion was burned into her retinas and she felt she could not escape his gaze.

A few long minutes later she felt him release and her rolled off her. Seeing her chance for escape she grabbed her handbag she ran for the ensuite bathroom, locking the bathroom door behind her. Emptying the contents of her handbag on the floor, she retrieved a bottle of mace, cursing her stupidity for not carrying her gun, even though she knew that there was no way she could possibly bring herself to use it. No. Not on Hotch.

Forgetting her underwear, now discarded in his bedroom, she adjusted her skirt and attempted to rebutton her blouse. Her fingers were still shaking so much she let out a muffled cry of frustration. Glancing in the mirror Emily was shocked by her own reflection, usually pale, she now looked deathly white, with a large bruise already forming on her jaw. Holding the mace with her gun hand she wrenched the bathroom door open quickly and made a run for the hallway, not looking back. She reached the front door was relieved when she slipped out without hearing him following her.

***

Turning the scalding water off, Emily gingerly stepped from the shower. Her discarded clothes from the morning lay in a trash bag on the bathroom floor, awaiting disposal. She knew she would never face wearing them again. Calmer now, though still shaking slightly, she regarded her reflection in the mirror. The bruise on her jaw was a darkening purple and a bite mark was visible on her collarbone. Her wrists were red and scratched where he had restrained her and looking down she noticed bruises also forming on her hips and thighs. There was a small amount of blood on the towel when she gingerly dried between her legs, biting her lip in pain.

What now? Should she call someone? What was she going to tell them? Emily was damned sure she was not going to be forced to go to a hospital. She wasn't really injured and she knew that difficult questions would be asked, ones which she just could not answer. As shocked and humiliated as she was Emily realised that there was no way she could ever report it. Not Hotch, even after everything that had happened she wouldn't do that to him.

Emily sighed, she really didn't want to talk to anyone but didn't think she could bear spending the afternoon in her apartment alone and in tears. JJ? Should she just call her to chat about inconsequential things? Even though she couldn't tell JJ what had happened the thought of hearing her friends voice lifted her spirits immensely.

"Shit" she cursed to herself. She was supposed to meet JJ and Henry this afternoon for a shopping trip. There was no way she could go, her bruised jaw and wrists would not escape her friends notice. She would have to call and cancel. Emily got up slowly, her whole body feeling stiff. Where the hell was her phone?

***

Hotch opened his eyes to a throbbing headache. The afternoon light in his bedroom was bright and it caused a searing pain behind his eyes. He got up from the bed and staggered to the bathroom. Grabbing the toilet bowl he leaned over and retched several times. His stomach churned and he broke out in a cold sweat, shivering on the floor.

Snatching a towel from the railing he mopped his face, cringing when he reached the fresh scratches on his neck. He traced them lightly with his fingertips. What the..?

Hotch was confused. He had no memory of getting scratched, had he done it in his sleep?? Then again, he realised he had no memory of getting home last night. He had been out with his brother Shaun and a few of Shaun's friends at a bar. Had something happened to him? He felt increasingly ill and retched again.

As the nausea began to abate he stood up slowly, feeling the urge to use the toilet. Looking down he was surprised and mortified to find his fly and belt undone. What the..? He noticed a small amount of blood on himself and his thighs. Withdrawing his hands from himself as though burned, he reeled in horror as his memory suddenly returned. His legs turned to jelly and he collapsed on the floor.

The incessant ringing of a phone dragged Hotch back to consciousness again a short time later. He staggered back into the kitchen and located it, pressing the button with shaky fingers.

"Hotchner."

"Hotch...? Its me. What are you doing with Emily's phone."

"JJ?"

"Yeah. I was looking for Emily. Is she with you?"

"Ah... No. I'm... I was sleeping. She's not here. I guess she must have left it here."

"Okay then. No problem. I'll try calling her at home. Sorry to wake you."

JJ smiled as she hung up the phone. Emily forgot her phone at his house...?? My ass, she giggled. She had suspected that there was something going on between the two of them for a while. Emily would have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow.

After hanging up the phone Hotch ventured back to his bedroom. He still felt deathly ill but was now more concerned with finding Emily. Surely his memories were deceiving him, he could not have hurt her that way? No way! The thought of it disgusted him.

In his bedroom he was forced to face the harsh reality of his nightmare. Emily was indeed no longer there but her underwear still lay on the floor, kicked to one side at the foot of the bed where he had attacked her. Oh God! This was actually real! What had he done? How could he? The staining and blood on the bedspread bought the reality of it all crashing down upon him. It was definitely real. He had hurt Emily in the worst way imaginable and now he had no idea where she was and if she was badly hurt.

With shaky hands he dialled Emily's home. He didn't think he could face speaking with her but needed desperately to know she was okay. There was no answer. Was she alright? What if she hadn't made it home? But then he remembered, JJ was taking her shopping this afternoon. If she hadn't been home, JJ would have raised the alarm by now. Wouldn't she??

***

A/N: Please review. Constructive criticism appreciated, flames ignored. There is still waaaay more to this story (in my head). Let me know if its interesting enough to be continued. :)