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“Baby, what is it?”
For the third time, Derek lay hovering over her, staring down into her face with something close to horror. It wasn’t exactly the expression that Emily wanted anyone to have while they were trying to make out with her. Or touch her in any context, really.
“It’s nothing.”
Pursing her lips, Emily shifted and shuffled until she was sitting up with her back against the arm of the couch, and Derek was back on his side of the cushions. He was still looking at her with that awful expression, however. It was completely unsettling.
“This is not nothing,” Emily said, trying to keep the irritation out of her tone. She had been tentatively dating Derek Morgan for something like three months now – and they had never gotten past a few kisses on her doorstep. This was the first time she had managed to get him to actually come into her apartment after a date.
She was considering it a personal victory—or at least, she had been.
Derek wrinkled his nose, and settled back further onto the other side of the couch. Which was exactly where Emily did not want him to be. But whatever this was, they had to work it out.
“It better be something in particular that’s making you look at me like that, or else we’re going to have a problem with this relationship,” Emily teased lightly, hoping to lighten the mood.
It didn’t work. What Derek gave her in response was closer to a grimace than it was a smile.
Now she was really concerned.
Unfolding her legs, Emily crawled across the couch until she was sitting next to Derek. Staring at him expectantly, she hoped he would elaborate.
No such luck. Sometimes, getting a real emotion out of Derek was like pulling teeth. It wasn’t something she had expected going into this. He had always seemed so honest and warm – but it turned out, a lot of that was a façade. Derek was far more guarded than any of the team knew. Even Penelope.
“You gotta throw me a raft or something, because I’m drowning out here,” Emily said.
Sighing softly, Derek reached up and ran a hand over his goatee, a gesture that meant he was both highly uncomfortable and also trying to gauge his words.
He did it in the interrogation room with unsubs. Not with her.
“It’s just,” Derek started, and then stopped. “Well.”
“Well?” Emily prompted.
Derek closed his eyes, taking a calming breath. “Emily, every time I lean over you like that – every time I touch you, try to kiss you – all I can think about is that night in the warehouse.”
Emily’s heart immediately skipped a beat, leaping up her throat and threatening to knock against her teeth. She didn’t like to think about that day, let alone talk about it.
Of course, Derek knew that, and he shot her a quick glance.
“It’s like I’m there again, and you’re dying – you’re slipping away from me – and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I can feel your blood, warm and sluggish, pulsing beneath my fingertips—and I freeze. I can’t hold you, kiss you, when all I can think about is the moment that I almost lost you forever.” He paused. “The night when I was positive I had lost you forever, and that I would never get a chance to have this with you.”
“I understand,” Emily said, voice hollow.
It was abundantly clear that she did not.
“Emily,” Derek started, frowning as he turned to face her, immediately taking her thin hands into his own. They were cold, and shaking. He hated that he had been the one to do that to her. There was a reason he hadn’t brought this up. “This isn’t me ending us, okay? This is just me…needing to work some things out.”
A wry smile broke out over Emily’s face, and she gave a little shake of her head. “I don’t know how you could possibly work something like that out,” she said. “It’s not exactly a normal situation. I can’t say I know many couples who have gone through what we have.”
“I’ll give you that,” Derek said, managing a small smile. Mostly for Emily’s benefit. “But all I know is that I care about you, and that when JJ came out and told us all that you were dead, I thought a part of he had died. And now I have that part back and—well, I guess I don’t quite know what to do with it.”
Emily’s hands were warming in his own, and he ran his thumbs carefully over the backs of her hands, gazing down at their laced fingers. Emily Prentiss was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he was about to blow it just because he couldn’t get past the nightmares. The times where he had woken up in a cold sweat and disoriented, thinking Emily was still dead only to have a sweet good morning text from her on his phone.
It made his head spin.
“Maybe we should back off for a while.”
Derek’s frown deepened. That hadn’t been what he had intended with this conversation. But he couldn’t tell exactly how Emily was feeling; her expression was so closed off. She was making herself impossible to read.
“If that’s what you want, then of course,” he said after a moment.
Nodding her head vaguely, Emily tugged her hands gently out of Derek’s.
And that stung. But he tried not to let it show as Emily folded her hands back into her own lap and gazed at him.
“I think that…neither of us needs a constant reminder of that day,” Emily said. “And I don’t want touching me to be a constant reminder for you. We can’t build a relationship on that.”
“We could work on it,” Derek tried again—but he could tell that Emily had already made up her mind. His head was spinning again. Their night had started off so well, and Emily had been so playful and happy. He hated ruining that – absolutely abhorred it.
“I’m so sorry, Em.”
“Don’t. Don’t apologize,” Emily said, shaking her head. “This is nobody’s fault. And who knows? Maybe one day we can start again.”
“Maybe,” Derek echoed, feeling hopeless. As much as he cared for Emily—loved her, even—he knew that the nightmares would never go away. And as long as the nightmares were there, he would never be able to touch her without imagining the feeling of her blood, warm and slick, beneath his fingertips.