emily prentiss had faced down serial killers, international criminals, and the deepest recesses of her own mind, but nothing in her life had ever prepared her for this.
this tiny, fragile little person in her arms—her daughter—was looking up at her like she held the answers to everything in the universe.
aria had come into the world just a few hours earlier, and the raw intensity of it still hadn’t worn off. jj was fast asleep in the hospital bed, utterly spent after a grueling labor, her body finally surrendering to exhaustion. emily had stayed by her side the entire time, her hand gripping jj’s through the pain, the tears, and the eventual joy.
jj and emily had thought long and hard about the decision. they weren’t in their late twenties or early thirties anymore. having a child at this age, with their careers, was a choice. the right choice. henry, now graduating high school, and michael, just starting his sophomore year, had kept them busy for years. after will and jj divorced, emily naturally became their mom too. their family was happy—full of love and laughter. but the thought lingered in emily’s mind, and jj’s too, after they finally admitted it to each other last christmas morning.
“i want a baby. with you.”
maybe it was the desire to create someone who was a mixture of them both. maybe emily wanted to rewrite the what-ifs she’d carried since she was fifteen. maybe jj wanted to fill the space maggie might have held if things had been different.
either way, the decision became clear. after months of ivf preparations, genetic testing, and everything else, jj fell pregnant in early spring.
and now, here they were. quiet. peaceful. whole.
the dim lights of the hospital room casting a warm glow as emily sat in the chair beside jj’s bed, cradling aria in her arms.
aria elizabeth jareau-prentiss. they toyed around with the middle name for a while. they tried ‘rose’, in honor of jj’s late sister - but they kept landing back on emily’s middle name.
‘she can give it a better meaning to me’ emily recalled months before the birth. no longer associated with her estranged mother, but associated with the miracle she now held.
the baby was wrapped snugly in a soft pink blanket, her impossibly tiny fingers curling and uncurling against emily’s chest. she didn’t cry, didn’t fuss—she just stared up at emily with those big, brown eyes that seemed to see everything.
emily swallowed hard, her throat tight with emotion as she met her daughter’s gaze.
“hi there..”
she whispered, her voice soft and reverent, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile magic of the moment.
aria blinked at her, her little mouth forming a perfect “o,” and emily couldn’t help but smile.
“you’re so quiet,” emily murmured, brushing her thumb gently over aria’s cheek. “your mama’s going to love that. let’s see how long it lasts.”
she adjusted aria slightly in her arms, careful not to disturb her too much. the baby wiggled a little but didn’t make a sound. instead, she kept staring, her expression almost curious, as if trying to figure out who this strange woman holding her was. she knew her voice, but not her face, not until now.
“you have no idea how long we waited for you,” emily said, her voice trembling slightly. “how much we wanted you.”
her gaze flicked briefly to jj, who was still sleeping soundly. her blonde hair was messy, her face still flushed from the effort of bringing their daughter into the world, but to emily, she looked more beautiful than ever.
“your mommy,” emily said softly, her eyes returning to aria, “is the strongest person i’ve ever met. she loves you more than anything. she’s going to show you every single day how amazing you are.”
aria yawned, her tiny mouth opening impossibly wide, and emily let out a quiet laugh - mixed with the emotion and mist in her eyes.
“but you know what?” emily continued, her voice dropping even lower. “i think i might love you just as much. maybe even more.”
she paused, staring down at aria’s tiny face, her heart aching in the best way. “you look like her,” emily murmured. “same nose, same lips… but those eyes? those are mine.”
for a moment, emily just held her, letting the weight of it all settle over her. this was her daughter. her little girl. and as much as emily wanted to bask in the joy of the moment, a familiar shadow crept into her thoughts.
her own mother.
elizabeth prentiss had been a lot of things: powerful, successful, intimidating. but she had never been what emily needed her to be. she had never been kind. never been warm.
emily could still feel the weight of her mother’s expectations pressing down on her, the coldness in her voice, the way she always made emily feel like she wasn’t enough.
her chest tightened at the memory, and she looked down at aria again, at her innocent little face, her trusting eyes.
“i promise,” emily whispered, her voice trembling, “you will never feel the way i did.”
aria blinked up at her, her tiny fingers wrapping around emily’s thumb as if she was already communicating with her.
“i will never let you feel like you’re not enough,” emily said, tears welling up in her eyes. “i will never make you doubt that you’re loved. i will protect you from everything, even me, if i have to.”
the tears spilled over, but emily didn’t bother wiping them away. she pressed a soft kiss to aria’s forehead, breathing in the sweet, baby-soft scent of her skin.
“i’ve got you, baby girl,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “always.”
and in that moment, as aria blinked up at her with those big, brown eyes—her eyes—emily made a vow.
she would be the mother she never had. the mother aria deserved.
no matter what it took.