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The moment you met Emily Prentiss, you knew. You just knew that she was the love of your life. But at the same time, you figured it was just the anguish and loneliness that consumed you talking.
Being stuck in a universe where people magically found the love of their lives and lived happily ever after just sucked the joy out of your existence. And today, it was even worse, because soulmates were just all the team seemed to be able to talk about. And then she joined in. Her eyes were warm, her hair fell just perfectly below her shoulders, and her usual teasing smile was wider, a touch of innocent yearning held in it.
And who could blame her? JJ’s lovesickness was sure to make even the biggest pragmatist daydream about finally finding the one.
Hell, that had been you once, oh so long ago. As a child, you clung onto the hope that once the words on your arm appeared, all would finally be okay. But then your 12th birthday flew by without the trace of a letter on your skin and now, you were destined to spend the rest of your life alone and miserable. Things were okay though. Well, they had to be. Too much was on the line at your job for there to ever be a problem.
“And what about you, SSA Prentiss,” Derek’s voice pulled your eyes back to her. “Finally found the one ?” his jazz hands at the words making even you laugh. “I think so,” she blushed, her eyes meeting yours. “I’m just waiting for them to make a move, to make sure.”
Your heart stopped, though for a second you weren’t sure if it was because of just how beautiful she looked - so uncharacteristically bashful - or because of the searing pain you felt in your soul. There. It was official. You knew exactly what you did five minutes ago; you were just meant to be alone. But why did this realization hurt more than it ever had before? Not wanting to be part of the conversation anymore, you get up.
“Hey pretty lady, don’t think you’re getting-” you don’t catch the last of Derek’s sentence as you stalk towards Hotch’s office, paperwork you’ve barely touched in hand, hoping your boss will let you finish there.
You take a deep breath before you sit on his couch and make up your mind. This infatuation you had for Emily wasn’t working too well for you. She had a soulmate. You did not. You could never be together. You would never be together. And that had to be fine. You were going to have to accept having her in whatever capacity you could. Maybe not just yet, when it hurt so much. You would slowly phase her out of your life to where it could be bearable when she finally got with her person. Decision made, you started working on the case files in front of you, not a word spoken.
“Hey, you’re riding with me,” Emily flashed you a smile, car keys in hand. It had been two weeks since the talk about soulmates had happened, and Emily was chosen to take the 10 hour drive from Atlanta back to Quantico instead of the jet for reasons you didn’t bother to hear, grateful for a little break from her after rooming and partnering up with her the entire case. Well, grateful if grateful meant wanting to throw yourself into her arms and beg to join her on a super long drive that you barely knew the purpose of.
“Well, are you coming?” she laughed, a slight flush on her skin that you account to the blazing sun.
“Yeah, sorry. Let me get my bag!” You rush to grab your things, making sure you have your gun and badge as well as your phone. You wave your byes to the rest of the team, trying to cull your smile and remind yourself that this isn’t really a good thing. All set, you make your way to the front of the station where Emily was waiting for you, leaning against the hood of the SUV.
“That took you a minute,” she chuckles as a slight breeze picks up, her hair flying and falling perfectly into place. Your hands itch to go closer and tuck a loose strand behind her ear, and the thought that you can’t and won’t ever be able to hits you all over again. You do your best not to show how eviscerated you feel every time you’re reminded that she could never be yours, but you’re sure you fail as you see the concern on her face. She tilts her head towards the passenger side of the car, letting you know that she’s driving. You make your way to your seat, your bags placed in the back, and she starts the engine.
Minutes pass filled with an unceremonious silence, a newfound tension she didn’t realize had always been a part of your relationship silencing the two of you. She almost scoffed at the thought that she, someone rarely bound by rules of etiquette and the need to maintain social graces, especially in your presence, would feel so uncomfortable talking about something she felt the need to say with all of her being. When minutes turned into an hour of painful silence as she watched you ruminate in your head, she finally burst.
She whispered your name, causing you to turn to her surprisingly fast looking like a deer caught in headlights. Her laughter at your expression struck you dumb for what felt like eternity captured in a second before you too joined in, the stress of the latest case and the weight of your feelings disappearing as you just relished sharing the same air as her.
“Yeah, Em?” you finally manage to let out, a smile - the first genuine one she had seen in a while - gracing your face.
“You know you can talk to me if something’s bothering you, right? I know we haven’t been on the team together for the longest time, but you’re -” she took a deep breath as she chose her words. “You’re one of my best friends,” she finished. “I want you to know I’ll always have your back and be there for you no matter what.”
What little you had relaxed disappeared, her words striking a chord; not sure how to reply without crying, you nodded, head turning to gaze out at the green surrounding you.
She let out a breath, embarrassment covered her skin just as you were sure your pain marked your heart. You were really going to have to do better at pushing her away, you weren’t sure if you could take just how kind and lovely she was anymore.
“I just, yeah let’s just, ugh Siouxsie?” she gestures at the radio.
“And the Banshees,” you affirm, finding your shared playlist on your phone. You’re grateful for her awkward attempt at giving you a moment to breathe and just pretend things were fine between the two of you. It might hurt to do so, but you decided that for just one last time, you would let yourself enjoy being with her all alone, basking in the light of her giggles while both of your purposeful off-key singing reached new lows.
A couple months had passed since the Atlanta case, and you had your plan down to a science. You got up, worked out an hour longer than before, blasting music loud enough so you wouldn’t have to think, showered, and drove to work. You used to carpool with Derek or Emily every now and then, but that had to be stopped. Once at work, you went straight to your profiles and paperwork, choosing to wear your headphones so you wouldn’t be disturbed. The few days you got in without a heavy workload, you stole a seat in either Rossi or Hotch’s offices and took on some of their heavier consultations, claiming that you were ‘trying to get more experience’ and demonstrate a newfound responsibility. You volunteered for all of the solo and partnered consults and interviews, and had suggested getting partnered up with your other team members more often. You prayed that Hotch believed that you were just trying to learn more about their specialties and not that something was amiss between you and Emily, but knowing him, you had little hope. You stayed at work late whenever you were on home ground, making up for your later and later arrivals and you weaseled your way out of most of the team’s fun. So when you were home, you had just enough energy to crash. You found yourself surprised by just how much of a wide berth the team had been giving you.
Your latest case was in Detroit, Michigan. It had been one of the ones Emily had been monitoring and because of your late entrance - courtesy of an interview with a death row inmate; man you hated those - she had spent a lot of time partnering up with you. It almost felt like you were always with her, which you were trying hard not to look too deeply into.
The two of you and Reid were stuck holding down the fort in the precinct, sifting through older evidence hoping there was something that had been missed. You heard her groan and could feel her roll her eyes, and you looked up. “And just why again couldn’t Reid do this instead of -” she gesticulated at him.
“Geographical profiles are helpful Em,” you brought your eyes back to the file in front of you, trying to hide just how funny you thought she was. You heard her let out an almost unnoticed sigh and looked back up at her, not expecting the lack of a quip at his doodling , let alone her forlornness .
Her face looked more tired than you had ever seen it. You don’t know how you didn’t realize it, but she looked different. Sunken, your mind gave you the word.
“I don’t think you’ve called me that in a while,” she whispered, her eyes back on her file. Before you could say a word, her face changed, brightening up albeit only slightly, with the fakest smile you had ever seen her wear. And with this line of work, you saw firsthand almost all of the smiles she had faked, and it just struck you how none of them had ever been directed at you until now. Well, that’s how it has to be, you tried to accept in your head.
“I’m going to grab some coffee, want something?” Unable to meet her eyes, you nod.
It was just like the day you had made your plan, the lot of you in the bullpen, finishing up paperwork and talking about soulmates. You were doing your best to smile, Penelope’s sheer happiness, the one thing in the world that could take you out of your head and heart and in the moment.
“I just think he’s so perfect, and sweet, and he has the worst taste in movies, but he’s just so,” she let out a dreamy sigh and playfully swooned herself onto your desk, but perked right up looking at Emily. “Em! Ah! How’s it going with your soulmate?”
Your heart clenched but you sent a small smile at Em before leaning forward and pushing Penelope off your desk, having noticed the grimace on her face.
“The Santa Fe case has escalated. We’ll debrief on the plane. Wheels up in 20,” Hotch’s voice boomed, and the team spurred into action, conversation halting. This was not going to be an easy case - not that any of yours usually were.
You were already all-set, your frequent trips making it much easier to leave your home base each time. You headed to the break room, wanting to take advantage of the fancy coffee maker (that Rossi had sneaked in) before you left. You were just about to take a sip when you heard her “Can you grab me the tea.”
“Oh shit, Emily!” you winced as you dropped your mug. Your hand had reached out to pick up the shards before you could think, leaving your palm with a crimson red line across it. You hissed and closed your eyes, tearing them open when you felt her hand grab yours and lead you away, into a chair.
You were thankful that she hadn’t pulled the sleeve of your dress down your wrist and sent her what you hoped would pass as a smile as she pulled out a first aid kit from seemingly nowhere and started to work on fixing you up. “We only have a couple more minutes before we have to leave. Make your tea. I’ll be fine, just go. I’ll clean up.”
Months ago, you were sure Emily would have laughed at you, maybe pat your head all condescendingly or even shush you, and continued on. But things weren’t the same anymore, and so she nodded her head and lost the sweet, hopeful smile that you had tried not to think of, but it was almost impossible not to when she again looked just like she had that day in Detroit. Sunken , your mind reminded you, and you grimaced. You hated not knowing why she was so down, and hated that you didn’t have the right to know anymore, and especially hated that you and your coldness were probably making it all worse for her.
Feeling even lower than you had during the almost-conversation about Emily’s soulmate, you grabbed your things with your good hand and made way to the rest of the group.
The case felt endless, the gloominess you and Emily were emitting bringing the team down lower than they had felt, with the usual urgency and tension that came with cases - especially cases this bad - already getting to you all. It didn’t help all that much that Emily was an almost exact copy of the unsub’s type, putting the team even further on edge, hoping that a fixation upon one of the leading agents wouldn’t be a card played by either the unsub or the team.
You avoided Emily like the plague, even more so than normal, which was really hard when all you ached to do was be near her. But you didn’t need to make this any harder than it already was. So it was to no surprise that when you at last got a really promising lead, with the team quite entirely sure that a new suspect was the unsub, the two of you were partnered up to apprehend him.
It wasn’t like the two of you were approaching the house alone; the rest of the team along with SWAT were surrounding the house, trying to cover multiple entrances in case things went south with the potential hostage situation on hand.
Having a cause to ignore the knock and announce rule, she was just about to send her signal to begin your search, when her eyes met yours. “Don’t do anything dumb,” she warned, half-joking, but before you could answer with your usual “Bite me,” the search had started and you were in the extensive warehouse, clearing room after room. Until the two of you were in the last one, facing the suspect with a gun in his hand, a lecherous smile on his face when his eyes landed on Emily.
“What the fuck was that in there?” Emily’s voice thundered out from the door of your hospital room.
“Em, I -”
“Are you out of your mind? You just jumped in front of a gun! A motherfucking machine gun! Were you trying to get yourself killed?”
“Em, I-” you again tried to call out.
“No, you don’t get to call me that! What the hell is wrong with you, you’re fucking nuts, just freezing me out and then jumping in front of a gun for me? You’re messed up in the head if you think you can just jump in front of a fucking gun!”
“Don’t talk to me like that!”
“Oh I can talk to you however I want to! Just what the fuck is going on with you? You nearly died and you just-” and her face crumpled, the fear after waiting for hours while you were in surgery hitting her full force.
You can do nothing but watch as she sags into the chair at your bedside, tears staining her cheeks.
“Please, just, just tell me! I’m begging you, whatever is going on, we can figure it out. Or is it me? Why do you keep pushing me away and throwing yourself into danger again, and again, and again? Did I hurt you?”
You don’t know what to say, a little gasp is the only sound you emit when she grabs your left hand, her fingers tracing over the scar from just a few days ago. Paralyzed with fear, you look at her, waiting for her to realize just what you had been hiding from her and everyone that you cared about for the two years you had worked with them.
Her eyes were as wide as yours as the lack of lettering on your wrist glared up at you both, the horror and disgust you could read on her face breaking the dam behind your eyes as the years - no decades - of pain and loneliness finally poured from your eyes. You made no effort to silence your sobs when you felt her leave the room, the tiniest shred of hope you didn’t know you felt now dead.
It was a month later and you had used up all of your medical leave and then your vacation days; you’d done all that was in your power to prevent anyone from the team from reaching out to you - your medical team helped, not wanting anyone to cause you distress the first few days post-surgery, you ignored all calls when you got to your apartment, and you gave your building security clear instructions to not allow any guests to your apartment. The only person you were in contact with was Hotch, and that too was just a thumbs up every few days to let him know you were alive. At home, you spent your time healing from the wound, finishing up case reports and tying up all of your loose ends, all while preparing and applying for new jobs. You were going to make it a clean break when you went back for your final psych evals and left the BAU.
The team was out on a case, your letter of resignation was emailed to Hotch right before he left, the physical copy now on his desk. You were almost done packing your things up, photos and little gizmos and thingamajigs you had collected or been gifted from your time with the team all you had left.
You felt her presence before you heard her, the hair on your neck standing on edge and your vision growing rosy and cloudy as soon as she stepped past the glass doors.
“You’re leaving?”
“Em,” you whispered.
It felt like her name was all that your part of most conversations with her had dwindled to in the past few months. It was quite fitting , you mused, almost like you were making up for it not being stained onto your skin the way it should have been.
You closed your eyes, wanting to hold onto the look on her face when she found out that you were a freak of nature. It would be far less painful to let that stay in your head, permeating your soul the way it had the past month; she wouldn’t have held it against you for too long, knowing her.
She was much closer now, her hand hovering over your arm, hesitating to touch. Before you could realize it, you were facing her, huddled in her arms.
“You’re leaving without saying bye.”
You could do nothing but nod when you felt the first tear spill from your eyes, your head hung down in shame.
“Why aren’t you with the team,” you’re able to muster, her hands leaving your arms to wipe away your tears.
She scoffs, “I’ve been grounded, apparently soulmate rejections make you ‘ unfit for duty.’”
You finally look at her, the air sucked out of your lungs.
“Your soulmate rejected you? You? Oh, Em,” you throw yourself into her arms, hugging her as tight as you could, your already broken heart breaking into tinier pieces. You didn’t push yourself away from her and the team just so some asshole could tear her down further; no wonder she was so upset when you had distanced yourself, the loss of her soulmate and her best friend at the same time would have been shattering.
She laughed.
You always knew Emily Prentiss to be very one of a kind and unique. Frankly speaking, fucked in the head wouldn’t begin to cover most of it. It was part of why you loved her; despite her contempt for Grey’s Anatomy, you felt almost akin to Christina and Meredith (if one of them were oh so tragically in love with the other, of course). You were just two, very dark and twisted people who loved and trusted each other so.
Yet, for the life of you, you weren’t expecting that reaction.
“What do you mean, ‘Oh, Em?’ Are you trying to taunt me?”
“What do you mean, what do I mean? And trying to taunt you? Emily, are you okay?”
“You’re trying to comfort me after what you did! Of course I’m asking you that! Now either you want me or you don’t. You had your chance to choose and now you’ve got to stick with it.
“Of course I want you! Emily, you’re all I have ever wanted! That’s why I’m leaving! It’s not just that I can’t stand the idea of you in love with your soulmate! I didn’t want to get in the way of you finding your happiness with your soulmate, I didn’t want you to have to one day choose between me and someone else ever, not that I could even dream you’d have to consider making such a choice!”
“What do you mean, Y/N? You’re not making any sense!”
“Em-”
“No! You removed your soulmark,” she pushed you away from her, her finger poking your chest with every syllable.
“Oh Gods no! I would never! Why would you even think that?”
“But you don’t have your soulmark!”
“I know! I just never got it. I don’t have a soulmate, I won’t ever have a soulmate, I don’t think” your anger, at her misunderstanding, fading as you told her your worst secret; the thing you despised most about yourself.
“You didn’t reject me,” she whispered after a quick pause, her eyes filling with tears.
“Of course not, but Em, I really don’t understand what you mean or how I’ve come into your soulmate situation but-” you come to a halt as your world spins yet again and you find yourself hoisted on your desk head forced to look at her wrist.
She whispers your name when you take too long to react, frozen as you read your name over and over again, written on her skin, every loop and curve and squiggle undeniably in your handwriting.
“Is that what I think it is?”
“That’s your name,” she nods, a fresh bout of tears, this time filled with joy.
“That’s my name,” you whisper back, nodding just as fervently, eyes meeting hers.
She moves closer, her hands cradling your face, for the second time in less than 20 minutes you realize. Your noses nudge together and you tilt your head, your ear pressed into her palm as you lean in just a smidge closer, and your lips finally touch.
Magic does not begin to describe what you both feel, as months of heartache, self-loathing, and loneliness are forgotten, the aches and breaks in your souls filling up with one another.
For the first time in months, you both smile.