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The Parisian skyline through the bedroom window should have been beautiful. And, in an abstract, distant kind of way - it was. But JJ, even as she stared out that window over Emily’s head, had a very difficult time taking in the lovely old-world buildings, the Eiffel Tower lit up gold in the distance against a cloudy night sky.
Emily twitched in her sleep, her legs kicking under the blankets with whatever she was dreaming, and JJ held her tighter from behind, careful of the wound in her side that was still healing.
The duvet was warm, Emily’s body warmer. It was comfortable, being here. A relief, and a heavy weight off of JJ’s mind just knowing Emily was alive beside her. JJ sighed and tucked her face to the back of Emily’s neck, feeling the tickle of her hair and smelling the clean scent of her skin.
Even with all that comfort, of Emily so close, JJ could not fall asleep.
They were in a safehouse, lost in the depths of the city. Their jet had arrived only a few hours ago, but JJ had been able to buy food to stock the kitchen for the night and enough clothing for Emily to start a new, though small, wardrobe as she also restarted her life. She had even gotten new suitcases, the kind that blended in. All courtesy of the government. JJ was not looking forward to writing up all those expense reports when she returned to DC.
Emily had been asleep most of the day, once they had settled into the apartment and while JJ was running her errands, and she had still been asleep when JJ returned. She could tell Emily was in pain, even if she flatly refused to take the medication the doctor back home had prescribed to ease it.
Emily jerked again, this time shaking awake with a little intake of breath. She went very tense as she came to, and JJ slowly removed her arm from around Emily’s waist in the hopes she would feel more secure without the heavy touch in this strange bed in this strange room.
“It’s just me,” JJ whispered into Emily’s hair, relieved when Emily slowly began to relax again. “You’re safe. You were having a bad dream,” she added as explanation for why she was spooned against her back.
“Sorry.”
It was soft, mumbled into the pillow rather than to JJ, and she put her arm back over Emily’s waist, a silent response to the non-answer. “I got some food. Are you hungry?”
“Not really.” Emily yawned, finally letting her body calm down in JJ’s embrace. She turned her head just enough to take a quick glance over her shoulder. “I’m just so tired. How long have I been asleep?”
“I don’t know,” JJ said truthfully. “I only got back about an hour ago.”
Emily was quiet, and JJ could hear the ticking of the wall clock in the living room, the quick, shallow breaths Emily wasn’t trying to hide. She was hurting, JJ knew she was. But before JJ could say anything to broach the subject of painkillers, Emily shifted, pulling away enough so she could roll over in JJ’s arms until they were facing each other.
JJ had seen the bruises on Emily’s face many, many times since they had left Bethesda, and yet, seeing them again now in the Paris nighttime, her stomach knotted in a familiar wave of anxiety and panic. Shadows fell over Emily’s eyes, her cheeks, and JJ lifted her hand to brush Emily’s hair back from where it scattered over the healing cuts on her forehead. “Everything okay?”
“You’re leaving tomorrow?”
It wasn’t an answer to JJ’s question, but she took the deflection for what it was and didn’t press again. “Yeah,” she said softly, sadly. “We’ll have some time in the morning, but I need to head over to the embassy around noon to - um, to get the rest of your things.” To get Emily money, passports, a new life far away from the one she had been trying so hard to create.
Emily made a small humming sound in response, eyes downcast. “I’m really sorry for putting you through all this, Jayje.”
It was the second time she had apologized for things beyond her control and JJ wanted to cry. She didn’t, instead running her fingers carefully through Emily’s hair to pull her attention back. “You don’t have anything to apologize for, Emily,” JJ told her. “Protecting you like this is part of my job.”
“Part of your job,” Emily repeated under her breath, and JJ narrowed her eyebrows in concern at her tone. But before JJ could say anything about it, Emily asked, “What do you think will happen to my apartment? I have a will for everything else, but I don’t really know what the procedure is for this. Being dead, but not being dead. It’s not an assignment I’ve had before,” she added with a doleful little laugh.
“Well,” JJ said uncertainly, “your will has to be enacted, because legally you are dead and we need to keep up the appearance. But everything else? I’m not sure.” JJ paused, trying to recall the similar process she had handled so many times before for strangers going into government protection. “We can probably keep your apartment paid for a year or so, and everything not in your will can go into storage if - you think you might come home one day.”
Emily raised her eyes and looked at her, and JJ felt her heart drop from her chest. It was such a sad look, despondent and already far, far away. She knew the answer without Emily needing to reply. “Do you want me to come back?” she asked, voice emotionless and flat.
The walls were coming back up, even after JJ had spent years breaking them down. Emily was shutting herself off.
“Of course I want you to come home,” JJ replied vehemently, both hands reaching out now to cup Emily's cheeks, to make her understand. “Of course I do. Don’t ever forget that, okay? No matter what. I want you home the second it’s safe.”
So, so gently, Emily’s hand came up to cover JJ’s on her cheek and drew it away. JJ’s other hand was wedged between Emily’s face and the pillow, but she read the gesture and pulled it away as well, her heart thudding with an ache she had no name for. Emily squeezed her fingers very briefly and then let go, her hands clasping together against her chest under the duvet and away from JJ’s touch.
The urge to cry, to sob the way she had in the hospital only days before, swelled against JJ’s throat. Emily had already been through so much, too much, and there was nothing JJ could do to fix it this time. “Em -”
“Have you been to Paris before?” Emily asked, and the change of subject startled JJ into silence. She shook her head, words not forthcoming. “You should really walk through the Musée d’Orsay before you leave, it has one of the best art collections in the world. You’d enjoy it.”
“Not the Louvre?” JJ asked around a tightness making it difficult to speak.
“The Louvre is overrated,” Emily said with a crooked smile that did nothing to ease JJ’s spiral. “Well, not really, especially not if you like antiquities. Spencer loves the Louvre. You’d enjoy the Musée d’Orsay more, I think.”
“Okay.” It came out as a little whisper and JJ squeezed her eyes closed, wanting nothing more than to turn back time until none of this had happened. “I’ll - I’ll try to stop by before I leave.”
“Hey, JJ, look at me.”
Emily’s voice was entreating, quiet and kind, and JJ could only do as she asked. She opened her eyes and found Emily watching her through the darkness spotted with lights from the streets outside. “Are you gonna be okay?”
JJ scoffed out a laugh at the question, feeling as if she were losing her mind, as if she were suddenly on another planet where nothing made sense. “Me?” she asked incredulously. “You’re asking me if I’ll be okay? I should be asking you that.” What is wrong with you? she wanted to scream, why are you saying these things?
“I’ve done this before, Jayje,” Emily told her, matter-of-fact and subdued. JJ just stared at her, not wanting to hear this, not wanting to believe it. “The whole spy thing,” Emily elaborated even as JJ wished she wouldn’t. “I’ve been so many people over the years; one more is nothing new for me.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” JJ said without pause, her thoughts spilling out harshly as she became more and more upset. Her eyes burned with tears and she hated herself, suddenly, for caring so much when she really, really shouldn’t. Not now, not anymore. “God, do I even know you, Emily? You’re like a stranger, I don’t -”
“You do!” Emily interrupted, strong and firm with her conviction. Her face fell, eyebrows narrow and lips pursed into a miserable frown. “JJ, you know me better than anyone ever has. Please don’t doubt that, please.”
It was like a revelation, a light in the storm, when JJ abruptly understood her emotions, the turmoil churning in her stomach to make her ill. She wasn’t crying, but it was a small consolation in exchange for the truth as it rolled over her. “I don’t want you to go,” she admitted as the understanding became clearer. “I wish this had never happened, I wish you could stay. I want you to stay.”
As soon as the words were out, Emily took a sharp breath through her nose and gathered JJ into her arms, JJ’s head nestling under her chin. The contact was so unexpected, so welcome, that JJ clung to the front of her shirt as if letting go again would be the death of her.
It was love, overwhelming and familiar together, that had JJ such a mess, and in that moment she didn’t know what to do with this information. It was far too late. Emily held her tightly, and JJ knew she probably saw everything written on JJ’s face more clearly than JJ could ever put into words herself.
But she couldn’t worry about that, she couldn’t.
“I’m sorry,” Emily whispered again, and JJ didn’t have the wherewithal to correct her, to tell her that none of this was her fault. Instead she just scooted closer, needing to be as near to Emily as she could for the time they had left.
“Make sure Spence gets my first edition of Dracula,” Emily said, and JJ could hear the tears clogging her voice as she spoke. “It’s in the glass cabinet in my living room. Morgan needs my Vonnegut collection. Um, in my jewelry box in the bedroom, there’s a chunky silver ring; that should go to Garcia. I got it in Spain when I was a teenager, tell her that.”
She tightened the embrace and JJ hid her face against Emily’s chest, still not quite able to believe this was happening. She could feel rough bandages beneath the soft fabric of the nightshirt under her cheek, a brutal check with reality. Not close enough even with Emily’s arms around her, she nudged her knee between Emily’s legs, burrowing into her as best she could.
They had shared beds many times, in so many cities as they worked cases together, but it had never been quite like this and JJ worried she was going to implode with the weight of it all.
“What about me?” she asked through a hitching throat. “What do I get?”
“Anything you want,” Emily murmured into JJ’s hair, near her forehead. JJ could feel her lips move as she spoke. “You can have anything you want.”
Anything she wants. JJ almost laughed, because what she wanted was right there, next to her, and it was impossible - impossible even if she stayed. “I wish I had something here to give you in return,” she said quietly. “It’s not fair. This isn’t fair.”
“I know.”
“No, I mean - ” Her voice cracked, just enough that she had to pause, to take a deep breath before she could keep going. “I mean you deserve so much better, Em.” She heard Emily sigh, start to talk, to say that wasn’t necessary or true, and JJ interrupted her before she could. “You do. I - we all love you, and you deserve to be home with us, with your family. This isn’t fair to you.”
Emily didn’t respond, instead pressing a quick, chaste kiss to JJ’s forehead and then tucking her face against the crown of JJ’s head. JJ couldn’t tell if she was crying, but she knew if Emily broke, JJ would shatter.
She was leaving tomorrow, going home to pretend Doyle had won, that Emily was dead and gone, and it hit her hard in that moment. She bit her lip. “I am going to bring you home, Emily, I promise. The second I can. I refuse to let you be alone forever.”
“I believe you,” Emily whispered, and this time JJ knew she was on the edge of falling. Tears burned JJ’s eyes in return.
“I don’t want to say goodbye,” JJ said even as she knew they were far beyond that point. Everything, all of it, was too late. “It’s not fair,” and whether JJ was talking about Emily leaving or them missing so many chances while they had been together, she wasn’t sure. Both. Everything.
“Oh, Jayje.” It was only a murmur, faint against JJ’s hair, and JJ squeezed her eyes closed against what she heard coming. “Lean on Will, okay? He loves you so much, you know he does; he’ll listen when you need to talk, he’ll help you with everything he can.”
“But not like you do.”
“You need to let me go,” Emily told her softly, full of fierce compassion JJ already missed desperately. “I’m so sorry.”
JJ remembered those words, what Derek had told them she said as she bled out on the floor of the warehouse. Let me go. JJ clung to her despite it, close to breaking down in sobs yet still holding herself together, just as she knew Emily was. “Not until tomorrow,” she said resolutely. “I am not leaving you until tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Emily breathed, not resisting this time when JJ continued to clutch her shirt, when she bent the leg between Emily’s to bring them closer.
“We’ll face it tomorrow.”