Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jennifer Jareau was no stranger to cameras. This should have been an easy press appearance too, given that their team had just caught the Unsub.

Well, not exactly 'caught'. The Unsub had made a lousy attempt on his latest target, and committed suicide by cop when he realized he had been cornered.

Brett Evans. It was hard for JJ to completely rid her voice of venom when she uttered the name of the Unsub in front of the public, considering what that bastard had done to--

Journalists continued piping up one after another, throwing endless questions at her. Usually, this would be the time of glory and closure after a case. But right now, JJ was restlessness, as if she had left something important behind. Heaviness spread over her chest; she was conjuring all her professional tricks to mask the tremor in her voice, and patiently navigate through the demanding press. 

She sensed a brief silent vibration against her thigh.

JJ always put her phone away before going on camera -- you could never be too careful in front of the media -- but couldn't bring herself to do it today. A few hours ago, she had to drive away from the hospital. Lots of work was involved in a scheduled media release, and as the publicity expert, she needed to oversee everything. Forcing herself to step away from that hospital bed was hard; harder than she had ever expected. Not to be overly dramatic, but JJ had a distinct feeling that she would never be whole again until she heard from--

Her phone buzzed a second time. 

Heart racing, JJ called for the last question, answered it, and turned around. With a smooth transition, she handed the stage over to the local sheriff, and stepped aside. 

Shielded from the watchful audience, behind the triumphant line-up of the local law enforcement, JJ pulled the phone partially out of her pocket and took a glance. Her lips curved up uncontrollably at the name on the screen.

'Hi JJ, sorry to bother you. would you mind doing me a favor...'  The start of the new message read. 

JJ snorted internally. Of course. Somehow that was exactly how she pictured Emily would be like asking for help -- with utmost courtesy and consideration, even when she was in a hospital bed, after just escaping what an average person would consider the worst nightmare of their lives.

Emily's message went on, with the same level of cautious politeness, asking if JJ could bring her some change of clothes. There was a brief instruction on where everything was, followed by another apology, as if digging through Emily's personal items was the most strenuous job JJ could possibly have that day.

80 hours ago, JJ might have actually agreed with her. 

Emily had been with the BAU team for a few months by now. The dark-haired woman was smart, funny, and all-around competent. But there was something distant in her smile -- oh god Emily had the most radiant smile JJ ever saw -- and it had been making JJ, the experienced Communication Liaison, nervous. That was saying something.

JJ didn't think she truly knew the older agent. 

Of course, she knew how Emily took her coffee, or what type of food Emily would want if the team were ordering takeaways during a case -- the sort of small habitual things that anyone working in the BAU would have learned by now. 

She also knew Emily would bite inside her lips every time she was sent on an undercover mission as a 'bait'. She knew that, when thinking nobody was watching, Emily would let a fog of hollowness creep up in her eyes. She knew the way Emily tensed up and put on a smile when her team fussed her over her injuries.

JJ knew all these, and felt like she knew nothing at all.

JJ didn't know what was haunting Emily. She sometimes wondered if anyone in her team did. The idea that someone worthier than her would be entrusted with the secret of Emily made JJ's heart throb with pain. But her own little jealousy wouldn't have mattered less, if it meant Emily had someone she could talk to.

The bottom line was, JJ cared about Emily, but never felt she had the privilege to act on it. The prospect of poking around Emily's luggage would have been unnerving indeed.

But in the last 80 hours, life had happened...

The ground of the abandoned warehouse was extensive. JJ could no longer hear any of her teammates-- the entire team were dispersed to cover more ground. The only sound echoing in the empty chamber was from the leaking pipes. JJ examined her surroundings carefully. Their profiling had narrowed their search down to a few isolated locations. 

The clock's ticking. 'Please let this be the one.' JJ pleaded silently. 

All of a sudden, her toes hit something hard on the floor. She stumbled, barely able to bite back a swear.

Looking down to locate the culprit, JJ found herself staring at a metal trap door, the surface of which was suspiciously dust-free. 

JJ could hear her heart pounding louder than the dripping water. Taking a deep breath, she cut the padlock,  flipped the door open, and flashed her flashlight down the pitch-black ladder well.  

There was someone down there. JJ could make out a pale hand tied to what looked like a bedpost -- holding the abducted women in a delusional setup of the vintage bedroom; it fitted their Unsub's M.O.-- and perhaps some long dark strands of hair. 

Hope bubbled up in her chest. "Emily?" she ventured loudly, her voice quivering with anticipation. 

Silence. 

The surrounding was threatening to turn blurry. JJ blinked hard. 'Compartmentalise, Jareau,' she thought to herself, 'Do not let Emily down.' 

With surprisingly steady hands, she redirected the flashlight to scout out the rest of the underground bunker as much as she could. 

"It's JJ. I'm coming down now." She secured her pistol and declared herself to the silent darkness downstairs, pretending someone was listening. Because if she didn't do so, the other possibility would feel too real, and that would be unthinkable. 

JJ was about to take her second step down when she heard a faint rustle from underneath. Frozen in her tracks, JJ stood still and held her breath.  

Someone was making a sound. It was hoarse and quiet. Every syllable was laced with pain. But it was unmistakably a lucid word. 

They had a survivor. 

The monotone water-dripping sound faded. A joyous, hopeful buzz echoed in JJ's mind, as she finally recognized the word-- 

 "...J-Jayje?" 

The sound of Emily breathing was the best music in JJ's ears. She wanted to laugh, cry, and ask a million things at once, but she held herself back-- this wouldn't be the right time. She was almost afraid to look at Emily -- truly looking at her -- and the extent of her injuries. Instead, she busied herself with surveying the physical restraints the Unsub had used on Emily. 

"Emily," she heard herself instinctively tapping into the professional mode, "Are you bleeding anywhere?" 

"No..." There was a long pause. "Don't need pressure..." Pause again. "--Breathing ok..."  

JJ's heart was filled with relief and admiration at how responsive Emily was; Emily knew exactly what JJ was asking and provided the vital information.  

"Good." JJ tried to keep a neutral tone, but her vocal cords were betraying her. "You will be okay..." she blurted, and then quickly bit her tongue before her voice crumbled. She was so unbelievably relieved. 

Tears prickled JJ's eyes, but she didn't wipe them away. Her hands had more important things to do. 

JJ soon lost count of how many zip ties were used to tie Emily's wrists and ankles to the bed frame. It was way beyond a practical amount, and could only be a form of torture -- an escalation never seen in his previous victims. JJ shuddered, trying not to think about what that implied. 

Instead, focusing on the task at hand, JJ pried the plastic away from Emily's skin, as gently as possible, just enough to insert a cutter blade. She could hear Emily's breath hitch when her pulling inevitably caused the zip tie to dig deeper into the already-wounded flesh. And she hated herself for adding to Emily's pain.

"I'm fine..." Emily murmured.

Startled, JJ realized that she must have frozen by the idea of inflicting more pain on Emily. She took a deep breath, and felt one of Emily's fingers tapping the back of her hand. 

With her wrist still tied to the bedpost, Emily somehow managed to rub small circles into the limited area she could reach with the tip of her finger. Emily's fingers were icy cold, making JJ shiver at the touch. 

JJ bit her lip, forcing her hands to stay steady.  

"--I'm fine...Do it..." Emily repeated breathlessly.

JJ swallowed hard, finally registering that Emily was trying to reassure her.  

Was this woman made of steel? JJ thought to herself incredulously. Emily, their mysterious new teammate, who came from a desk job, but never flinched at the gruesome crime scenes; who handled weapons as if they were a natural extension of her body; who seemed to be always on alert to help, to comfort, to take the heat.  

JJ gritted her teeth and snapped the zip ties, one after another. Her stomach twisted in knots, as she listened to Emily's muffled cry, again and again. 

True to her incredible resilience, Emily managed to lift herself out of bed as soon as the last zip tie was removed. Her body swayed as she stumbled towards the ladder well, before JJ could run around from the other side of the bed to help. 

''Are you okay to climb up?" JJ asked hesitantly. 

Emily's strength appeared to be boundless. JJ was unbelievably grateful that Emily still had fight in her, after being held hostage for three long days. But watching Emily fight was heart-rending; every movement was determined, yet stiff and sore. 

"... just want to get out of here." For the first time, there were discernible cracks in Emily's voice. But she didn't slow down. 

JJ stepped aside. She noticed, with a sinking heart, that it took Emily several attempts before she finally lifted her leg high enough for the first stair of the ladder. 

It was apparent every step was a struggle for Emily. When her leg buckled again mid-ladder, JJ extended her arms to stabilize her. 

A scream erupted the moment her hand touched Emily's backside. JJ immediately pulled back her hand like it was scorched.  

Emily stayed motionless, holding onto the ladder for dear life. Her dark hair draped over her face, obscuring her expression. Her breathing sounded quick and shallow, as if she couldn't get enough oxygen.  

"Emily?" JJ asked warily.  

"Don't..." Emily rasped. Then there was a long silence, and JJ started to panic whether Emily had lost consciousness. She fidgeted, anxious that Emily might lose her grip and fall; but at the same time too afraid to initiate any more physical contact, fearing it would hurt Emily again. 

She breathed a sigh of relief when she finally heard a muffled voice. "I'm fine...D-Don't touch me...please..." 

"I won't again. I promise." JJ said, desperately hoping her words sounded reassuring, and even more desperately hoping she would be able to catch Emily -- or cushion the blow, whatever helped -- if she fell. 

She watched Emily shakily resume her ascending, and, after what felt like forever, disappeared from the top. 

JJ quickly followed and pushed herself out of the trap door.

After her time in the dark, the dim ceiling lights felt like the glaring sun. JJ squinted and looked around, and gasped at what she saw--  

Emily was facing away from her, on her knees and elbows. She was in a pink dress, the style of which could only be described as "1950s housewife". JJ had never imagined a piece of clothes could look so distasteful on Emily. The back of the dress was covered in blood patches, as well as countless cuts and rips. JJ dared not let her mind wonder about what objects had caused those.  

She rushed towards Emily, taking off her Bureau-issued jacket while running. She crouched down next to the older woman, jacket in hand. 

Emily looked up at the commotion. Her face was pale, with almost a tint of ash-gray. Her bangs were a sweaty mess stuck to her forehead. It took a few seconds for her eyes to focus, her long dark lashes fluttering. For a moment, she only stared at the jacket. Then she closed her eyes and leaned into the fabric.  

Deciding that was the permission, JJ inched closer; Emily's head immediately dropped with a thud against her shoulder. Straightening her back so that she could prop Emily up a little, JJ managed to loop one arm behind Emily and pulled the jacket across her shoulders, mindful of the injury on the back.  

Emily started trembling violently as adrenaline withdrew from her body. Small whimpers escaped her lips; the muscle spasm was clearly hurting her. 

JJ, wishing for nothing more than to hold the older woman and make the pain stop, tentatively lifted one hand and touched the back of Emily's neck. Feeling no scar tissue, she cupped her palm around and applied a little comforting pressure.  

"Shh... I've got you." She whispered, despite feeling quite the opposite. She felt the trembling lessen, and Emily was pressing against her more firmly, fighting to draw long slow breaths. 

JJ listened helplessly as Emily quickly lost that battle. 

"S-sorry Jayje..." Emily wheezed into the crook of her neck, "Need...need a gurney after all--" Her voice trailed away; her body became heavier and heavier in JJ's arms.  

JJ collapsed back on the floor herself, praying that the medics would find them soon.

Chapter Text

It took hours -- much to JJ's chagrin -- before she could leave the precinct, stop by the hotel, and head to the hospital. Both the team and the local forces were exhausted after the intensive investigation during the last few days; they were now very short-handed. 

JJ handed over the duffel bag of clothes to the nurse at the reception, who stepped away and returned fairly quickly.

"Agent Prentiss will be ready to go soon." she informed JJ kindly, pushing forward a different bag, "This is for you."

It was an evidence bag containing the pink dress that JJ had despised so much. The blood stains had dried into a dark brown shade. She could also see the split in the fabric which presumably the doctors had cut open during the treatment.

JJ traced over the cut, reminding herself that Hotch had shot the Unsub, and Emily never had to breathe the same air as that bastard ever again. At least it was truly over.

Just then, Emily emerged from one of the doors. 

"Emily!" JJ cried, grimacing when it came out much more desperate than she meant to. She ran towards Emily. 

Emily still looked pasty, except for the dark bags under her eyes; her cheeks were bonier. Cracks marred her lips, looking as if they would burst and bleed at any moment. Her once-silky long hair hugged around her face a little messily, looking dry and brittle. She was swallowed up by the gray sweatpants and baggy cotton shirt JJ had brought her. All these brought out her delicately arched brows and big dark eyes even more. JJ had never seen Emily like this before. Something about it was tugging at her heartstrings like mad.

Emily blinked hazily, and broke into a huge smile when her eyes met JJ's.

Only at that moment did JJ realize how much she had missed that smile. It was hard to believe that it had only been three days. And Emily was smiling because of her. Wasn't that an unexpected delight?

JJ wanted to ask so many things, but didn’t. ‘Emily wouldn't want to be fussed over,’ she firmly reminded herself. She took a deep breath and tried to sound as casual as possible, "How are you?"

Emily scrunched up her face and responded with a growl, "Can't wait to get out of here." There were small playful glitters in her eyes.

JJ laughed, "That's the idea." She checked her wristwatch, "...although a bit inconveniently, we have wheels up in 90 minutes. The rest of the team will meet us at the airport--"

Emily groaned. JJ smiled sympathetically and continued, "--Time's a bit tight, so I took the liberty to pack your bags. Hope you don't mind--"

"JJ you are an angel!" exclaimed Emily. She sounded almost like her old self again.

JJ blushed, suddenly feeling very sweaty. She took the duffel bag from Emily's hand, purposefully looking down to avoid eye contact. 

"Let's go home," she said hastily, hoping she had managed to disguise the tightness growing in her throat.

Emily declined the wheelchair at her discharge. The nurse, who had not even attempted to advise otherwise, simply acknowledged it and typed a few extra words into the computer, with a sad knowing look on her face.

Emily scribbled her name on the printout and exchanged the exit pleasantry with the nurse. She put the pen down -- a little more stiffly than how she picked it up -- and turned her head towards the building entrance down the hallway. Her whole body tensed up, and she was completely still for a moment.

"Ready to go?" JJ prompted gently.

As if startled, Emily whipped around to face JJ. Emily’s eyes were glossed by trepidation. She cast JJ an almost pleading look, her lips quivering. Then, just as quickly, the vulnerability disappeared. She pinched her lips together firmly, her jaw clenching. She refocused on the end of the hallway, and took a step forward.

It was a small, wobbly step. Emily hissed, and stopped. Still looking straight ahead, her hand suddenly shot out and grasped JJ by the wrist. 

That took JJ, who was watching Emily with growing concern, completely by surprise. Emily was the opposite of touchy-feely. Yes, she made handshakes, air kisses, and even hugs with tremendous warmth and flawless etiquette, but JJ could tell she was always tense. There had been a handful of times when they made physical contact out of strictly professional necessity. But JJ had not truly savored touching Emily's skin before. 

Emily's hand was calloused and cool. It was tickling JJ's skin, and at the same time, her heart. 

Instinctively, JJ gathered Emily's hand in hers, and let their fingers intertwined. Emily took another step, and another, her hand jerking in JJ's hand, squeezing at every movement.

The realization came over JJ -- Emily was scared of walking. And she couldn't sit. 

They all studied the Unsub, a sexually repressed man who abducted women to create an ideal wife. He would beat and cut his victims -- with belts, electric wires, shards of glassware or porcelain… -- until they complied with his fantasy... JJ knew all of this. And she was given the full list of injuries Emily sustained -- all superficial, thank goodness. But actually witnessing the level of agony she was in still sent a chill down JJ's spine.

JJ's heart ached as if Emily's hand were pinching it directly. She stroked Emily's knuckles sympathetically. "You are doing great...Almost there." she coaxed, feeling utterly useless and hypocritical. 

Emily, being Emily, just kept walking with a look of stoic acceptance. Her hand was squeezing so tight that JJ started to lose feeling in her fingertips.

It was oddly comforting though, that Emily was sharing her pain with no reservation. Emily 'set-me-on-fire-to-keep-everyone-else-warm' Prentiss, somehow let her guard down in front of JJ. 

JJ squeezed back firmly. A surreal mixture of chill and warmth filled her stomach. She was in it together with Emily now, in some way.

Emily spent the entire journey to the airport face-down across the back seat of the car. They drove in silence. JJ dropped Emily off by the jet boarding stairs, and went around the ramp to return their rental vehicle. 

By the time JJ finally boarded the jet, Emily had already flopped herself on the couch on her stomach, her face towards the cabin door. When JJ entered, Emily started to prop herself up, but faltered halfway through with a grimace.

JJ could not drop the go-bags she was carrying more quickly to rush towards Emily. ''Hey, easy--" she touched Emily's shoulder lightly, blocking her from rising further. "What are you doing?!" she chastised gently.

Emily blinked at her, and JJ was fully prepared for a protest. Much to her surprise, Emily started slowly and painfully easing herself back down without a word. JJ smiled and lent a hand to help smooth out the movement.

They were interrupted by a series of footsteps approaching. 

Emily’s reaction was to push herself back up at once. She yelped at her own jerky movement -- clearly having forgotten the physical status she was in -- and closed her eyes tightly while she fought to regain her bearings.  

With a reflex that would make her Academy combat training supervisor proud, JJ launched forward and wedged herself between Emily and the couch, preventing Emily from toppling over. 

Emily leaned into her, breathing heavily. She seemed to be completely drained by the last few minutes; but she quickly stirred and made another attempt at repositioning herself into a more dignified posture. 

JJ sighed and helped her out again by supporting her under the arms. 

Emily ended up almost kneeling. She groaned, hugging the back of the couch tightly with one arm to stay upright. Tiny drops of sweat started developing above her brows.

Oblivious to this little episode, their teammates emerged from the door one after another. Remembering that Emily's luggage and hers were still lying on the floor unceremoniously, JJ hurried to pick them up and make space for others. She watched from the back of the cabin as each team member approached and greeted Emily --

Gideon's words were simple and gruff, but nevertheless heartfelt, to which Emily responded solemnly with "Yes. Sir" and "Thank you, Sir". 

Next in line, Reid fidgeted and stuttered. He had been blaming himself for taking so long to complete the geographical profile that narrowed down the location of Emily’s captivity. While Emily was kept in the hospital overnight, Reid had come to JJ’s hotel room, on the verge of tears. 

Emily greeted him with a warm smile, "I'm fine, Reid. I wouldn't have been without you." She awkwardly stretched her arm out and squeezed the young Doctor's arm comfortingly. When Reid didn't quite smile back, Emily joked with a mischievous wink, "Nothing a day off in the bathtub won't fix." Reid blushed crimson at the image, mumbled his well-wishes, and scurried away. 

Morgan was already snickering behind the prudish boy genius before he stepped forward. Emily rolled her eyes good-naturedly at him and laughed, "Derek, you are so not invited!" Morgan pretended to be well-chastened, and joined in on the laughter.

Being partners in the field, they were clearly confident around each other, and immediately fell into several rounds of verbal sparring. Then, after quips were exchanged and laughter died down, both agents switched to serious expressions. Morgan asked Emily about her injury, Emily reassured him she felt fine, and Morgan nodded in understanding. Such moments reminded JJ how fiercely private and reserved both of them actually were.

Hotch, with his unique calm and tender voice, held the longest conversation, which covered a few administrative details-- medical leaves to be taken, remaining procedures to wrap up the case, and so on. Emily's demeanor was every bit as professional as she had been in front of Gideon, but her shoulders were visibly more relaxed. 

While everyone was talking, JJ busied herself with assembling a tray containing a water bottle, painkiller, a pack of tissues, and a couple of Snickers bars -- Emily had a sweet tooth, which she didn’t seem to indulge very often. JJ thought about it, and added her iPod to the pile too. She often listened to music on the jet; Emily was more of a book reader, although she imagined it would be quite difficult for Emily to read a book in her current position. Emily didn't seem to bring any digital devices with her either -- oh god she hoped she hadn't left any of Emily's valuables at the hotel -- so the iPod was the best she could offer.

A few minutes later, the cabin quietened. The team had scattered along the aisle. There were occasional sounds of zippers as people took out items from their bags for the flight and stored the rest away. Emily had lied back down again. 

JJ discretely walked towards the galley-end of the cabin, and set the tray down next to the couch.

Emily now looked even more tired compared to minutes ago; it was alarming. The way her eyelids were stirring looked like she was fighting to keep herself focused. Tilting her head on the cushion she was resting on, Emily managed to give JJ a furrowed smile, and -- before JJ could say anything -- preempted her, almost inaudibly, "I am okay. Stop pouting, worrywart--"

JJ felt her cheeks burning. Was she that obvious? JJ immediately felt many things. There was guilt -- Emily certainly shouldn't have to deal with JJ's emotions, when she was the one who needed the support. There was mild irritation, because the dark-haired woman was so stubborn and guarded that it hurt. And there was deep embarrassment. It did feel like Emily's injury was hitting JJ harder than anyone else on the team, and JJ couldn't help but feel that she was crossing some sort of line. Was she just being a concerned friend? Or was she indeed caring more than a friend, almost like a--

“Sorry…” JJ muttered, and clamped her mouth shut. It was not about her; it was about Emily. She silently moved around and buckled the seatbelts for Emily.

As she prepared to walk away, Emily's hand reached out. With the distance between them, she only managed to catch the cloth of JJ's trousers. JJ immediately turned around and moved closer to check on her. The moment JJ was within reach, Emily grabbed her hand.

Surprised, JJ looked down and found herself staring at Emily's long lashes and her wide, brown eyes. Emily was looking up at her with piercing intensity, which made JJ ten times more self-conscious than moments ago. Then, JJ felt Emily stroking her fingers, from knuckles to fingertips, again and again; she almost forgot how to breathe, and any remnant of irritation towards Emily vapourised then and there. 

Eyes shining, Emily whispered, "Thank you." Her fingers wrapped around JJ's after that, for a lot longer.

JJ picked a seat one row away from the couch, which allowed her to give Emily plenty of privacy, and yet be able to keep an eye on her. That was what she had ended up doing most of the flight -- She hadn't got her iPod, and she couldn't concentrate, not when Emily was out of her sight anyway.

For the entire flight, Emily was lying on her stomach, burying her face in a cushion. She didn't touch anything on the tray.

At some point, while they were in the air, JJ noticed tremors appear on Emily's profile, which had been impeccably still until then. JJ squinted and listened. She couldn't hear a sound among the humming of the engines, but the constant shaking of the shoulders was unmistakable -- Emily was crying. 

JJ had never seen Emily cry the entire time they worked together

JJ's first instinct was not to draw unwanted attention to Emily. She looked around; most of her colleagues were wide awake. Hotch was working diligently. Morgan was looking outside the window with headphones on. Reid and Gideon were playing a game of chess.

JJ squirmed in her seat. It was excruciating, having to sit back and watch Emily cry, shaking like a leaf.

JJ was sure of her decision though. After witnessing how Emily had exhausted herself to keep the facade on in front of everyone, JJ simply could not subject her to a second round of the same.

But god the decision was against every fiber of her nerves.

JJ set her jaw and kept her eyes on the lone, trembling figure on the narrow couch. She felt responsible for Emily’s suffering, and she felt once again completely powerless.

The moment the jet landed, JJ practically leaped out of her seat and ran towards the older agent. It appeared that the cry had eventually lessened, and Emily had blessedly fallen asleep.

"Emily--" JJ bent down and called out softly. 

Emily jolted, her head bouncing off the cushion and her eyes opening wildly as she frantically scanned the surroundings. Finally, her eyes found JJ's, and she dropped her head back onto the cushion with a groan.

Emily's eyes were bleary and red-rimmed. Her lashes, saturated with moisture, looked much thicker, which in turn made her eyes appear even bigger than usual.

Before JJ could think it through, she lifted one hand and tucked away a strand of sweaty hair that was blocking Emily's view.

Emily's eyes widened. But she didn't shy away from the touch. 

JJ blushed; her hand was still hanging in mid-air and she suddenly didn't know what to do with it. Awkwardly, she drew her hand back and fiddled with her own hair. "We just landed," she informed Emily softly and proceeded to unbuckle the seatbelt for her.

Emily was halfway out of the couch, begrudgingly relying on JJ to support most of her weight, when Morgan shouted from the other end of the jet, "Hey Prentiss. Wanna ride with me?" 

Before Emily could react, Reid approached the couch, carrying his shoulder bag. "…Statistically speaking, I am an exceptionally safe driver--" he offered a little sheepishly.

Then Hotch showed up behind Reid. "Who would you like to drive you home, Prentiss?" he asked in his usual business-like manner, however, his caring nature always slipped through his voice.

JJ felt Emily stiffen and turned to find her darting glances between their three male colleagues, like a deer caught in the headlights. 

A flare of annoyance surged up in JJ. Can none of the profilers see that they were overwhelming Emily? Normally, she wouldn't have gotten involved. Emily was fully capable of advocating for herself; also, she was much closer to those three -- Derek was her partner; she and Reid apparently watched shows together from time to time, in one of the many languages they both spoke. And with Hotch, the two of them had formed a unique rapport that didn't seem to fit in any category -- and JJ wouldn't have presumed she stood a chance against them. But the moment she saw the look on Emily's face, all that insecurity was temporarily forgotten. JJ wanted to shield Emily from pain -- well, shield her from more pain beyond what she had already endured. 

That was why JJ found herself shooting her hand straight in the air, interjecting loudly, "I will take her."

The entire cabin turned their eyes on her.

Emily didn't miss a beat, "JJ. JJ can drive me." She slumped against JJ and breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

Hotch regarded both women intently for a moment and nodded, "Okay then. That's settled." He started practically ushering the rest of the team off the plane. "Take all the time you need, Prentiss." He said sincerely as he walked past them. The rest of the team followed suit.

The drive to Emily's apartment resembled the one to the airport. Emily seemed groggy and hid her face in her arms for most of the journey. However, when they arrived outside her building, Emily became visibly more alert and a lot more adamant about carrying her own weight. She scrambled out of the car as soon as it stopped, and dug into the trunk before JJ could offer any help.

By the time JJ got out of the car, she was greeted by Emily, shoulder squared, duffel bag in a hand. JJ knew this was Emily’s way of saying ‘this is it’ -- the momentary vulnerability was gone, and Emily had put the walls back up around herself again. 

Emily cleared her throat, "Thank you for, um... taking care of me..." JJ smiled at how the last few words hadn't quite rolled off Emily's tongue, "...I appreciate it..." 

"My pleasure," JJ said brightly; she paused, hesitated, and then decided to be bold. "Thank you for letting me," she added quietly.

Emily's mouth opened and closed. Neither of them made a sound for the next few seconds. Emily just stared at JJ, a strange mist clouding her eyes.

JJ had been too exhausted, too worried about Emily's recovery, and now on top of that, she was also uncontrollably upset by Emily's sudden -- albeit entirely expected and justified-- withdrawal. It took all her energy to meet Emily's gaze unflinchingly, and held her mouth shut.

Eventually, Emily broke the silence. "I...um, don't mean to be rude, but I'd better--" She gestured vaguely behind herself, stammering rather uncharacteristically, "...haven't showered since..." She trailed off, looking away for a split second, "...yeah…I feel um, kinda gross..."

"Of course. Go. You should get some rest." JJ said quickly, suddenly washed over by a sense of impending loss. 

With just that one moment of distraction, Emily had beat her to the next move; she extended her arm and squeezed JJ's shoulder gently, with an appreciative smile. 

JJ blushed. Damn Emily… so thoughtful and with impeccable manner and reflex, even when she should be the one taking it easy. Sheepishly, JJ patted Emily's hand with her other hand. "Take care of yourself, Emily. If you need anything, please do let me know," she pleaded.

Emily nodded. She turned around and headed into the building, swaying slightly on her feet.

There were so many things JJ wanted to ask Emily. Did she have groceries in? Would she be able to feed herself and re-dress her wounds? But she knew she couldn't say anything, not without making Emily more uncomfortable than she already was.

JJ sat in her car in the dark. She watched the light go on in Emily's apartment, feeling like a hopeless, pathetic suitor in some trashy teen romance.

Chapter Text

The first day back from a case was very different for different members of BAU.

While most field agents could take a breather, for JJ, it meant a whole new cycle of wrapping up the media aspect of the latest case, sorting through an extra-large pile of new case files accumulated in her absence, and catching up on all the bureaucratic meetings.

In short, it was not JJ's favorite time. 

Not having Emily in the office only made things worse.

JJ hadn't realized how much she had gotten used to Emily's presence, until now. The kitchen felt empty when she came in in the morning, without Emily leaning against the counter, rapidly stirring a sachet of sweetener into her coffee, grinning like a child. The bullpen felt eerily quiet when she headed to Hotch's office, without Emily behind her desk, bickering with Morgan or Reid.

JJ spent some time at Emily's desk so that she could gather the unfinished paperwork and reallocate the urgent ones to other team members.  Emily’s desk was far from the neatest, but it was undoubtedly the least identifiable one in the bullpen. Apart from the standard-issued desktop and organizers, there were only a few folders and a simple set of stationaries -- not a single trail of personal touch. They had had to change the desk allocation a few times in the last few months, and Emily was one of the very few people who hadn’t batted an eye.

JJ wondered if that was all part of Emily’s system to make sure she would never get attached.

JJ hadn’t texted or called Emily since driving her home last night. She wanted to, but couldn’t bring herself to do it. Emily had seemed so desperate to be left alone to lick her wounds when they parted, and JJ was worried she would do more harm than good by reaching out too soon.

Shortly after lunch, Garcia barged into JJ’s office, agitation all over her face. “JJ, Emily wouldn’t let me in!” she exclaimed.

JJ’s head shot up in interest at the mention of the older field agent, “PG, slow down. What do you mean?”

“I wanted to drop by her apartment.” Garcia took a seat at JJ’s desk and huffed, “I texted in advance just in case… She just replied she was fine, maybe another time.”

JJ envied that aspect of Garcia’s personality. The technical analyst was loud and bold, never shied away from pouring out her heart and care, and seldom let others’ reactions affect her. It was no surprise that when it came to something they both had on their mind -- in this case, Emily -- Garcia went straight ahead, while JJ was agonizing over boundaries, rejections, and so on.

JJ sighed, “I know. I am worried too. Emily probably just needs time to rest.” She tilted her head and tried to smile persuasively, “You know Emily -- She can take care of herself.”

--which was what JJ kept telling herself.  

“I know, I know--" Garcia groaned, “I am sure you are right…” She paused and looked at JJ, “You should still check on her though --”

“Me?” JJ laughed, barely able to disguise how bitter she was feeling, “How does that make any difference?”

Garcia laughed in return, but with unusual optimism. A gleam of mirth danced in her eyes. “Well, Emily is more comfortable around you --”

Alarmed, JJ interrupted her, “Penelope, I am sure Emily would never…”

“No no… I am not taking a jab at Emily… or you…I am not offended or anything.” Garcia said quickly. “I am no profiler, but I can tell -- Emily does not try as hard in front of you--” JJ gaped at her; Garcia waved her hand dismissively, “…no, that sounds terrible -- what I meant was, she just… relaxes… you know?”

No, JJ didn’t know. If anything, she would have said the opposite. She had seen Emily having a good time with the team. Emily could be bubbly, flirty, deadpan, feisty, hangover, or all of the above at the same time. But Emily was never like that when it was only the two of them -- not that such situations happened very often. All those things just weren’t really JJ’s style. On the occasions they were left alone, they usually spent the time sitting together, almost awkwardly, and casually talking about profiling. For someone who had no prior profiling experience on their resume, Emily was surprisingly passionate and knowledgeable about it, which added to her mysteriousness and brilliance in JJ’s eyes. Outside their shared profession, she and Emily appeared to be in stark contrast to each other in so many ways. JJ simply assumed that Emily would find her boring.

JJ wondered at this point if she knew anything at all.

Garcia smirked at JJ’s suspicious frown and recounted thoughtfully, “One time on Lady’s Night, I was off chatting up some guy. When I came back, Emily was snoozing behind her beer, and you were just sitting there, watching over her,” she gushed, clearly thinking it was adorable. “You saw me. You nudged her awake. You two didn’t even exchange a word… She rubbed her eyes, and just carried on with the night, all chatty and fun.”

JJ raised her brow, “That just sounds to me like… really awkward…?”  -- which was not surprising; she felt nervous around Emily. Emily made her nervous.

“I’d say ‘at ease’…” Garcia remarked sagely.

JJ didn’t remember that incident at all. But she did always have the distinct impression that Emily wasn’t getting enough sleep and was, at the same time, trying very hard to hide it. Sometimes when the two of them sat together quietly, either doing paperwork or having run out of topics, Emily would doze off in her chair. JJ had decided not to take it personally, and had developed the habit of pretending she had noticed nothing different afterward. Emily never expressed her feelings on this arrangement -- like so many other things, they simply never talked about it -- but Emily hadn’t stopped napping in JJ’s presence, so JJ took it as a positive sign.

It was unusual, now she thought about it.

“…You really think so?” JJ felt herself begin to blush.

“I think you are good for her.” Garcia winked.

JJ stared at her, heart pounding at what her friend seemed to be implying. Too afraid to confirm either way, JJ clamped her mouth shut.

Garcia’s expression turned more solemn, “Please take care of our friend, JJ.”

Garcia rarely put on a face quite that serious. It meant that whenever she did, one had better pay attention.

JJ swallowed, “I will…I will.”

That night, JJ lay in bed, stared at her bare white ceiling, and did quite a bit of soul-searching. Many memories came to her at once --

Like her first impression of Emily, which was when Emily effortlessly translated the Arabic intel in front of the entire team, and how radiant she had looked, with soft dark curls hugging her fair skin. They had met earlier to go through the new joiner orientation stuff, but nothing was as striking as the moment when Emily looked around at her new colleagues, casually revealing her talents, nervous and proud at the same time, her eyes shimmering like a pair of black pearls.

And that one time when she walked past Hotch’s office, and caught words like “Mother” and “politician” spit out behind the closed door. Moments later, Emily burst out of Hotch’s office, her face pale and completely blank, except for her eyes, which had struck JJ as an odd mixture of fierceness and sorrow. Despite barely knowing the woman at that time, JJ had felt a piercing ache in her heart.

And not that long after, the case of Tobias Hankel…

    - "I am talking tomorrow morning to some guy who knew Hankel from Narcotics Anonymous. Why don’t you come with me? Get out of the house."

    - "Yeah."

    ...      

Nothing felt real to JJ. She ate, drank, changed the bloody bandage around her forearm, and got into the passenger seat next to Emily -- she was functioning as usual, but nothing felt real.

The blue sky, the green field, the gray road ahead…Everything was taking on a fake neon color in the glaring sun, and JJ just kept staring out the windshield.

Black dots started forming in her vision, but JJ didn’t notice it, not until Emily nudged her with a pair of sunglasses.

“Here. I brought a spare.”

JJ rummaged inside her bag and realized that in her numb, autopilot state, she had indeed forgotten to pack hers.

“Thank you,” JJ mumbled sheepishly, accepting the offering.

“We still have another hour on the road. You should rest your eyes.” Emily suggested mildly.

“Yeah...” JJ acknowledged in an ambivalent nod. She put on the sunglasses and turned away to face the side window.

The truth was, JJ had been too afraid to close her eyes. Every moment of darkness, every shadow in her sight, there were dogs with murderous red eyes lurking.

JJ hadn’t slept since the incident at the barn, not only because she physically couldn’t, but also because everyone else staking out Hankel’s estate was working extremely hard.

How could she deserve any rest when she had caused this mess in the first place?

The burning pain from the gash on her forearm wouldn’t die down. In the last few hours, her temple had started throbbing and she had started experiencing chills. She didn’t feel she could tell anyone. Her suffering was so trivial compared to Reid’s, and nobody seemed to have noticed or cared anyway. After all--

Reid was kidnapped by a serial killer, and it was her fault.

    …

    - “Emily-- How come none of this gets to you? You came off a desk job; now suddenly you’re in the field surrounded by mutilated bodies and…you don’t even flinch…”

    - “I guess maybe I compartmentalize better than most people…”

    …

The Interview with the Narcotics Anonymous guy had been straightforward. By lunchtime, they were on their way back.

Road trip, JJ had decided, was quite the window to one’s nature. For example, halfway through their return journey, Emily turned and suggested that they should stop and grab something to eat. It wouldn’t have been noteworthy if Emily hadn’t said so with big sparkling eyes and a hint of blush on her cheeks. She was looking at JJ expectantly and practically begged her to be on board.

JJ didn’t have a trace of appetite in her, but Emily’s enthusiasm was infectious. She nodded silently, and was immediately repaid with a wide, excited grin.

That was how JJ ended up being led through the small-town marketplace. Fifteen minutes later, she was holding a box of chicken nuggets and fries and a can of Coke in the local parking lot. “You must eat something--” Emily had insisted. And JJ had had to settle on the relatively plain-flavored fried goods quickly, before Emily could drag her to a second food stand to find something she “actually want”.

The only thing JJ actually wanted was to wake up from this nightmare. But that wasn’t an option. So JJ nibbled at her food instead, slowly but constantly, because Emily’s eyes kept falling on her, with a look of concern so obvious that JJ could no longer deny its existence.

The caring attention made JJ feel extremely guilty, and she was doing whatever it took to dissuade it.

The parking lot was next to a sizable park and thus had a moderate amount of traffic. Apart from some casual remarks on the food quality, Emily and JJ didn’t talk much. In the buzzing noise of a sunny afternoon, Emily devoured her burger and even licked the sauce on the paper wrapper.

 JJ never expected to see Emily, daughter of an Ambassador, eating with such childlike glee.

There was something uplifting about this side of Emily. Standing next to Emily in silence, JJ found it not too hard to maintain a mindless cycle of chowing the food and sipping the fizzy drink, and to keep both items in her stomach.

Then JJ vaguely heard a barking in the distance.

All of a sudden, it became the only sound ringing in her ears.

JJ spun around in alarm, trying to locate the threat. Her vision was filled with moving, blurry figures and she couldn’t tell for sure what they were. One figure in particular was short, bulky, dark brown, just like the dogs in her nightmare; it was running towards her, ready to launch an attack--

The first thing that came to JJ was the despairing realization that both her hands were occupied, and she couldn’t reach her gun quickly enough. The next thing she knew, there were splashes of liquid in the air; her hands were empty again, and someone’s body was blocking her from the threat.

JJ shot her arms out, desperately trying to get in front of the idiotic, self-destructive owner of that body, and found herself firmly held back by a pair of strong arms.

“JJ, STOP!” she heard someone’s urgent plea, “You are safe! It’s on a leash-- You are safe.”

It took JJ several seconds to register the meaning of that statement, and another few to realize that she had been fighting futilely against Emily’s chest, and that she had forgotten how to breathe.

Emily kept speaking softly to her, “You are safe. Everything is okay. Just breathe--”

JJ felt her legs giving out underneath her. The only reason she was still upright was because Emily was holding her up. Too weak to put up a fight, JJ pressed her forehead into Emily’s shoulder, focusing on regulating her breathing.

The sound of the world flooded back into her ears -- children squeaking, engine running, and dogs barking… JJ shuddered, barely managing to fight off the urge to curl up and cover her ears.

Emily’s fingers threaded through JJ’s hair and pressed steadily at the back of her skull, cool and sobering.

JJ started to get feelings back in the muscles in the rest of her body again. High on the list was a sharp squeeze in her stomach.

JJ jerked in agony, barely having enough time to push herself off Emily. With a pained groan, the greasy meal she just had was out on the ground, before JJ could properly bend down. She felt Emily gathering her hair and holding them out of harm’s way, when JJ, hands on knees, dry-heaved and spitted out the residuals in her mouth.

For what it’s worth, she did feel better afterward. She could take deep breaths without feeling like she had a broken windpipe again, and the dizziness and nausea were fading.

After regaining her physical composure, the embarrassment of the situation finally hit JJ like a brick. She could see the stains on Emily’s shoes, and could only imagine how filthy she was herself. JJ kept her head low, unwilling to look up, until a soda can was offered under her nose.

Somehow Emily managed to hold onto her own beverage this whole time. “Here. Have a rinse,” she instructed lightly.

JJ wrapped her fingers around the cool aluminum. “Thank you,” she murmured and did what she was told. “I am sorry--" she started uncertainly.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Emily said firmly.

JJ swallowed back the rest of her babbling apology, and let Emily coax her to straighten up. Emily’s hands were around her upper arms the whole time, rubbing and supporting.

“How about you take a seat over there,” Emily pointed at the concrete barrier nearby.

JJ bit her lip and glanced nervously at the mess on the ground.

Emily caught her hesitance instantly. “Don’t worry about it -- No big deal. I’ve got this,” she said brightly, nudging JJ away towards the makeshift seat.

Time flied when one concentrated on their own breathing. One moment JJ was sitting down on the dusty concrete, resting her head in her hands, and the next thing she knew, Emily was in front of her again.

Emily loosened the lid of the bottled water she was holding and handed it to JJ. “Feeling better?” she asked.

JJ nodded automatically, even though she wasn’t completely sure if she did.

Emily crouched down and laid one hand on JJ’s knee. She offered JJ a reassuring smile.

JJ shivered. She watched Emily take out some wet wipes and start wiping down the splatters on her trousers and shoes, and was acutely reminded of the pitiful state she was in.

Fidgeting with shame, all JJ could force out was another apology.

“It’s okay,” Emily said soothingly, whose composure and readiness to comfort only made JJ feel even more inadequate in comparison.

“Uh-- This is ridiculous,” JJ growled, frustrated tears threatening to break free.

“It’s not ridiculous,” Emily said calmly. “This is completely normal. Trust me--”

“How should you know?” JJ interrupted impatiently, “You worked behind a desk--" she grimaced when it came out harsher than she had meant to.

Emily pinched her lips; an inscrutable shadow darkened her brows. JJ thought back to how Emily looked the day before, when she was questioned about her remarkable composure. If JJ hadn’t been certain at the time, she was now -- Emily was holding something back.

Before JJ could figure out what to say, Emily had taken both of JJ’s hands in hers. “JJ. I can’t give you a good reason why you should believe me, but I hope you do--” she said earnestly, but there was an uneasy twitch in her brows. “You had a traumatic experience; it will affect you. It affects the best of us -- one way or another. You defended yourself very well yesterday--” her lips quirked up into a soft smile, and JJ thought she looked impressed; it brought a sense of warmth to JJ’s stomach, easing the knotted pain she had been carrying around. Emily continued, “--Try to remember that. Remind yourself you will get out of it okay, because you’ve done it. You are capable. You will win--”

JJ couldn’t pinpoint the reason, but she believed Emily wholeheartedly, so much so that she burst out the question that had been haunting her, “Will it ever stop?”

Emily gulped, her eyes darting away briefly, and JJ knew the answer.  

“Maybe, maybe not,” Emily finally said. She patted JJ’s hands comfortingly. “But that’s not the point. Time dulls pain; memory will fade. You will get better at managing it.”

“Okay.” JJ nodded, a strange sense of acceptance filling her heart. She rubbed her face with a shaky hand. “We should head back. I’ve wasted too much time already,” she muttered.

She met Emily’s eyes. Emily was watching her with a thoughtful expression. “Are you sure you are ready for the car ride?” Emily asked.

JJ nodded again, even though she wasn’t sure at all. Emily’s eyes were an ocean of impenetrable tenderness. Suddenly, all JJ wanted was to drown herself in it and forget about the world.

“Okay then,” Emily said gently. She put one hand around JJ’s back and helped her up; the other hand of hers squeezed JJ’s encouragingly.

JJ squeezed back. She took a deep breath and followed Emily to the car.

    …

    - “He just posted his latest murder online…”

    - “I want to see it… If I can’t watch it, I have no business being in the field.”

    …

Forcing herself to look straight at the screen, JJ sat through every second of the video documenting Hankel’s gruesome act. After the progress bar had reached its full length, it took JJ another couple of minutes before she remembered to look away, to stand up and leave the room.

All she could feel was cold, as if her blood was completely drained and replaced by ice water. She couldn’t think. Every coherent thought popping into her brain inevitably morphed into a horrifying inference of Reid’s fate. JJ knew that if she let her mind wander for even a second, she wouldn’t be able to hold it together anymore.

JJ walked across the estate to notify the rest of the team about the new video posted. Her first stop was Morgan and Prentiss. She hugged herself tight as she passed through the damp, underlit hallways, but it wasn’t enough. The tiniest breeze made her shiver.

The pair was having a vivid discussion in front of the evidence board. They both stopped talking and turned to look at her. JJ flinched at the gazes and the eerie quietness.

“…Hankel just posted his latest murder…” She delivered the information, struggling to mask the tremor in her voice.

She sneaked a nervous glimpse at each of her teammates as she trailed off. Emily was glancing between her and Morgan with an unreadable expression. Morgan gave her a stiff look before striding out of the door.

JJ knew Morgan blamed her, and rightly so. Morgan had been nothing but professional and kind, considering the circumstances, and had only given her a piece of his mind when she pushed him too hard. But what he had said still hurt like a knife cutting through her heart. ‘The truth is one of you is here and one of you isn’t’ -- JJ could recall his speech verbatim. As irrational and unfair to the team as it sounded, JJ couldn’t shake the feeling that when Morgan looked at her -- when anyone on her team looked at her -- they were hoping to see Reid there instead.

Feeling on the verge of being drowned by self-hatred again, JJ ducked her head and followed Morgan hastily.

Someone was tugging at her arm. JJ flinched.

The next thing she knew, she was pulled into a hug. Her body was pressed firmly against overwhelming warmth.

Emily wrapped one arm securely around JJ, and the other arm gently nudged behind JJ’s head, guiding it towards her shoulder.

“Hey-- How are you holding up?” Emily murmured in her ears.

Nobody had asked JJ that since the barn.

JJ’s body reacted before her brain could. The first tear escaped without warning. Then everything came crashing down on her -- the horrible details in the video, her team’s brooding disappointment towards her, Reid’s devastated expression -- and sent her brain into a white scorching mess. Tears flooded her cheeks like the dam had broken down. JJ gritted her teeth, trying to control the shaking of her body.

Carefully breathing through her mouth to hide the sniffling sound, JJ whispered, “I am fine.” Because that was the only acceptable answer in her mind.

She tensed up when she felt Emily’s hand on her back, heat radiating, penetrating through the thin cloth. It was both comforting and terrifying at the same time.

“JJ, what happened to Reid was not your fault.”

JJ flinched so hard that her muscles hurt. She opened her mouth to argue, but found herself unable to make a sound while holding the sobs at bay.

As if anticipating JJ’s protest, Emily hugged JJ a little tighter, preventing her from pulling away. “It’s not your fault-- The Unsub did this. Not you,” she repeated.

JJ squeezed her eyes shut, well aware that her tears were spilling out and soaking Emily’s jacket. Her head felt foggy, like her senses were shutting down on her. Emily’s voice was fading into an agonizing buzz, as if her subconsciousness was rejecting Emily’s words.

It was Emily’s gentle rocking that pulled JJ back to reality. “I want you to say it -- it is not your fault.” she urged, warmly but firmly.

There were so many reasons why JJ didn’t want to say it. For one, it felt like a blatant lie. And she would sound utterly ridiculous with all the tears and snot. But she didn’t have it in her to defy Emily. All she wanted right now was to be good, to be accepted, to be approved of.

“I-It is--not--m-my--fault--” JJ croaked and hiccupped through the sentence. Saying it out loud felt like it was sucking all the heat out of her body. Teeth chattering uncontrollably, JJ instinctively inched closer, taking shelter in the warmth of the embrace.

“We will find Reid.” Emily continued.

“W-we will find Reid--” Desperately wanting it to be true, JJ repeated it without being prompted this time.

“Good girl,” Emily murmured. Her lips grazed JJ’s hair and finally landed on her temple.

JJ froze, caught completely off guard by the soft, warm flesh pressing against her skin. She held still, shivering when Emily started pulling away. She wiped her eyes haphazardly, purposefully avoiding Emily’s eyes.

Emily didn’t completely let go. Her arms moved down and circled JJ’s waist as she leaned forward to inspect JJ’s face.

“Would you like to stay here a bit longer?” Emily asked after some time. There was a hint of worry in her voice. “I am going through Hankel’s journal to see if he mentioned any hideouts. I could use some help.”

“Umm… I-I still need to find Gideon.” JJ sniffled, finally looking at Emily. Truthfully, she felt drained and dizzy, and the prospect of going back out there was daunting. But she pushed herself not to escape from it -- if she couldn’t handle this, she had no business in the field.

Emily tilted her head, studying JJ. “I can do it,” she said lightly. “This--” she waved at the pile of notebooks of Hankel’s, “--is urgent, but to be honest, I could really use an opportunity to stretch my legs…maybe grab a snack too.” She looked at JJ through her lashes, slightly sheepishly, “Would you please cover for me?”

JJ stared at her. Despite the hazy headspace she was in, JJ, being the adept media liaison, quickly recognized Emily’s intention. Emily was trying to give her an out while sparing her the guilt of taking a break.

JJ rubbed her cheeks to dry the remnant of tears, and cleared her throat awkwardly. She felt raw and vulnerable -- but also, safe.

“Sure,” she nodded, managing a small smile. “Thank you, Emily,” she added solemnly, gratefully, aware that no words would be able to properly convey the many feelings exploding in her heart right now.

Emily patted JJ’s shoulder with a wide grin. “I’ll be back soon,” she said brightly, and headed towards the door.

Someone drove by below her window. The dazzling headlight stung JJ’s eyes. This was when she realized her eyes had been swimming with tears. She touched the corner of her eye tentatively, not sure what had made her cry.

Slowly and hesitantly, she came to the conclusion that it was probably something akin to nostalgia. Because after Reid had survived, and she had survived, everything had gone back to normal between Emily and her -- so normal that she had started to question her memory of the Hankel case.

No, that would be lying -- things had never felt the same for JJ since then.

JJ had been working more diligently. She agonized over every detail of the logistics -- hotel, set-up in the precinct, transportation -- every time before her team was sent to a new town. She kept track of when her teammates had last eaten, and ordered food for them when they had forgotten to eat. She became the uncompromising voice of BAU at various Bureau meetings, defending her teams relentlessly. She asked Morgan for extra hand-to-hand combat training.

She told herself all of these were to make her a stronger agent, a better team player. But if she was honest with herself for even one moment, she would admit that she did them while thinking of Emily. She hated it when Emily looked tired and uncomfortable, or when Emily skipped meals because she was too focused on the case, or when people used Emily as their emotional sounding board and Emily let them.

She wanted to look after Emily, like how Emily had looked after her when she was about to crumble.

Emily would have scoffed at the idea -- Emily was more than capable of taking care of herself, and she disliked being fussed over -- and therefore JJ had been discreet; so discreet that it became a second instinct, and she started to forget about it herself.

She had failed her self-assigned mission though. A few days ago, when they had found out that Emily was missing, JJ had felt she couldn’t breathe. Since then, her heart had never felt fully settled. Today, she had failed to be there for Emily again, because she had let it get to her that Emily would find her overbearing; because she had been so scared and so worried since Emily’s abduction, and Emily’s pushing her away would have been unbearable.

JJ blinked, and felt tears escaping the corner of her eyes. She touched her lips with her fingers, remembering the sensation of Emily’s soft, warm lips, and imagining it pressing against her own. A sizzling warmth expanded in the pit of her stomach. JJ drew a shuddered breath--

She was in too deep now, deeper than she’d ever dreamed of.

Chapter Text

Wednesday

With her thoughts going haywire the night before, JJ’s sleep was unrestful. By the time she finally gave up on trying to sleep through the tosses-and-turns and sat up in her bed, the alarm clock read an agonizing “04:18”.

Defeated, JJ went to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of milk. Much to her chagrin, the moment she opened the fridge, revealing a healthy assortment of meat and vegetables, her mind was back on one particular woman again--

Had Emily been eating well? Did she have access to nutritious, appetizing food that would help her body heal?

Growing up, food had always been the main expression of love in the Jareau household. To this day, her parents still questioned her over the phone about how often she cooked a balanced meal, and how much sleep she got on average, to which JJ had to make up numerous lies.

It was no surprise that JJ had been paying lots of attention to catering and accommodation when she looked after her teams.

Now the same instinct took over JJ’s foggy brain, and all she could think about was that she should cook something for Emily.

JJ examined the available ingredients critically. She was surprised by the many ideas popping up in her head, as if her brain had been secretly planning for this without her knowing. For example, JJ immediately knew she wanted to make something that could be served cold. Emily had wounds all over the inside of her mouth from biting her cheeks, and eating hot food would be extremely painful. For the same reason, any strong seasoning was also not an option. Preferably, it should be easy to digest and would last in the fridge for a while…

Ten minutes later, JJ was researching recipes on the internet and typing a menu out on her laptop. As she clicked through the web pages, it occurred to her she hadn’t thought everything through. How and when should she deliver the food? It felt like a rather self-imposing to do -- taking it upon herself to feed Emily -- and JJ had no idea how Emily would react to it.

But JJ knew she wanted to do this. She would just have to worry about the logistics later.

By the time JJ was ready for work, all her tupperwares were filled with various dishes and neatly stacked up in her fridge.

Such accomplishment marginally improved her day in the office, until she spent the entire afternoon justifying BAU’s recent case prioritization in front of the budgeting committee. The process was especially grueling today when the committee decided to scrutinize every tiny decision the team had made in the last two weeks and the expense associated with it.

Meetings like this always worked JJ up. She believed in her teams and the tough calls they had to make, and she was passionate about defending them.

When JJ finally got out of the meeting room at 4 p.m., she was tense and hyped, and ready to take on the world. All the hesitation seemed so trivial at this moment, and it didn’t take long for JJ to decide that -- screw it, she was going to check up on Emily now.

JJ didn’t text in advance -- if Emily explicitly told her “no”, things would get trickier. As people say, “It is better to ask forgiveness than permission”, and JJ certainly didn’t consider herself above it when necessary.

It took Emily quite some time to answer the door, just as JJ started to regret her tactic. Her regret deepened when the door finally cracked open and the chain lock was still latched.

Emily peeked out from behind the door. She looked paler than the last time JJ had seen her, if that were even possible. Her eyes searched JJ’s face, guardedly and tentatively, like she was struggling to process what she was seeing.

“Hi JJ,” after a few seconds had passed, Emily opened her mouth, “How can I help you?” she gave JJ a tight, polite smile, her voice husky.

JJ hated herself for not coming by the day before.

“Just wanna see how you are doing--” she smiled back light-heartedly, pushing down the concern bubbling in her chest, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.” Emily said stiffly, “I told you there’s nothing to worry about--” She put her hand on the edge of the door, as if she was tempted to shut it.

Instinctively, JJ wedged her foot in the narrow opening.

“Go home JJ. You’ve had a long day at work…” Emily huffed.

Maybe it was because JJ had been up since before sunrise. Or maybe it was because she’d spent four hours today standing in heels and now the hard edge of a heavy-duty door was digging into her long-suffering foot. Or maybe it was the look on Emily’s face, which was breaking JJ’s heart and worrying her to no end, and making her angry at the Unsub as well as herself. Watching Emily push her away again this time, JJ was indignant, and scared.

“No chance,” she retorted sharply, “I am worried-- Deal with it!”

Emily flinched; she looked at JJ with widened eyes, her lips pressing together so tight that it turned pale. JJ immediately felt guilty about the tone she had taken.

For a moment they just regarded each other through the crack in a nerve-wracking silence, and then it was Emily who faltered first. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, sounding chastised, “…You are right. That was very rude of me,” she chewed her lips nervously, “Please come in.” She reached for the chain lock with a shaking hand.

JJ took a step back to make space. Emily shut the door. The jingling noise of metal came through, clearly indicating several failed attempts from Emily’s fumbling to unlock the chain. JJ stood in the hallway, feeling like a big bully.

As soon as the door opened wide, JJ lifted the bag in her hand. “Hey look, I come bearing presents!” she said cheerfully as she stepped inside, hoping to make a peace offering.

But Emily didn’t respond. JJ realized she was still anxiously eyeing the empty hallway.

JJ turned around, locked the door, and fastened the chain. She pushed down the door handle a few times to test it was secured, and heard Emily breathe a barely audible sigh of relief.

Emily’s apartment was bright, designer, and spotless. And it appeared to span two floors.

On the left-hand side of the entrance was a spacious open-plan kitchen with sleek, marble countertops. A bar area, including a wine rack filled with some expensive-looking bottles, separating the living room from the kitchen. Half of the living room space was occupied by a 4-seater corner sofa in beige fabric, with a vibrant-colored blanket draping over one end. Some game show was playing on the big plasma TV hanging on the opposite end of the living room.

“What would you like to drink? Tea? Coffee?”

JJ turned around. Emily was inching towards the kitchen, unsteady on her feet. She was putting on a hospitable smile, but it only made her exhaustion more obvious.

Seeing that, JJ immediately forgave Emily for her earlier testiness. “Emily. Don’t treat me like a guest.” she pleaded softly, “I’m here for you--”

Emily stared at JJ as if she had just said something alien. She halted in her steps, looking incredibly lost and uncertain in the middle of her own apartment.

“Had dinner yet?” JJ prompted.

Emily shook her head wordlessly.

JJ nodded; she went over to the bar area and started unpacking the containers of food from her bag. “These should go in the fridge…” she gestured at two larger containers in hand, “…May I?”

Emily nodded. JJ smiled at her reassuringly. She went off to put the container away, and then opened up a few cabinets to look for the utensils.

Judging by the fridge and the cabinets, the only meal Emily could possibly have had since she was back was either cereal with ice cream, or plain pasta. JJ’s stomach cramp up uncomfortably. She looked back at Emily, who was leaning heavily against the bar counter with a nervous, almost embarrassed expression, and carefully masked her own reaction.

Coming back with the necessary utensils, JJ ladled out the soup from one of the remaining containers on the table, and fixed Emily a bowl. “Here,” she said while opening the other container with potato salad, “… it’s creamy lettuce soup. I thought you’d prefer something cold, but it serves well warm too…” She hesitated when Emily didn’t dig in, “…or would you like me to warm it up?”

“No, no… cold is good. Thank you…” Emily gingerly touched the silver spoon. “Don’t mind me. You should take a seat,” she said quietly.

JJ shrugged, “Nuh…Have been sitting in an office all day. Better stretch my legs.” She had a feeling Emily was still too sore to sit, and she certainly wasn’t going to sit when Emily couldn’t.

It seemed that Emily knew exactly what JJ was thinking, because she gave JJ a pointed glare -- even with bloodshot eyes and bruises above the cheekbones, Emily mastered a powerful glare. But JJ glared straight back. And to her surprise, Emily conceded after only a few seconds, looking back down at the counter.

JJ couldn’t help but notice how uncharacteristic it was for Emily to give in like that.

She followed Emily’s line of sight and found the dark-haired woman had proceeded to attempt to pick up the spoon from the counter, with raw, mangled fingertips. Most of Emily’s nails were chewed up on the edges; a few had blood seeping through. JJ bit back a hiss, recalling the agony she once had when she trimmed her nail a couple of milometers too short. Watching Emily putting pressure on those nails made JJ shudder.

But Emily just kept trying, expressionless with a clenched jaw, like she was numb.

JJ picked up the spoon and handed it to Emily, who took it sheepishly but gratefully. “I’m gonna go and stock up for you after dinner, okay?” JJ said, deliberately drawing the attention away from it.

“You are very kind, JJ. But you don’t need to do this…” Emily said diplomatically. “I was planning to go today. I just overslept…” she continued stubbornly, but refused to look JJ in the eye.

 “It’s no big deal really--” JJ rushed to reassure Emily. Then she paused, realizing that was not what Emily needed to hear, nor was it the entire truth.

The truth, fresh out of the introspection last night, was terrifying, and JJ felt her cheeks burning just thinking about it. But she needed to say the right thing before Emily retreated from her again and put an even higher wall up.

“I want to do this,” JJ conjured up all her courage and confessed firmly, “It makes me happy to do this.”

Emily’s head shot up. JJ tried her best to hold her gaze. The stoic lines in Emily's face broke; her eyes filled with indescribable emotion. She bowed her head and busied herself with taking small sips of soup.

Emily’s hand shook as she lifted the spoon, making clashing sounds against the bowl. Not wanting to be caught staring, JJ took each spoonful slowly and purposefully so she could sneak glances at Emily.

“This is really good, JJ,” Emily broke the silence after a while. “You are a talented chef,” she praised, a little color returning to her cheeks. For the first time since JJ’s arrival, a genuine smile reached Emily’s dark eyes.

JJ blushed and beamed, “I’m glad you think so. I love cooking.” Then she blurted, more as a reflex than anything else, “What about you? Do you like cooking?”

Oh god, that sounded like the awkward conversation you’d have on a first date. But then again, JJ really didn’t know the answer to her questions -- it was amazing you could know so much yet so little about someone.

Emily tilted her head, looking mildly amused. JJ decided her silly icebreaker was totally worth it.

“My mother always has staff running the Ambassador’s residence,” Emily recounted dryly, “Growing up, I got told off for using the kitchen because it was ‘disruptive to others’ job’.” The ghost of a distant smile touched her lips.

“I’m sorry--” JJ winced sympathetically.

“Don’t be,” Emily countered automatically, pinching her lips. “It was a privileged position to be in.” She sounded detached, like she was relaying a message that had been deeply drilled into her.

JJ suddenly didn’t know what to say. Her own upbringing -- small town, full-ride scholarship -- was vastly different from Emily’s. It was easy to forget about such differences when you both crashed at the same shabby hotels and gobbled down the same greasy takeaways, day in and day out. There seemed to be a deep sorrow in Emily, and JJ didn’t feel well-equipped to unpack it -- certainly not at this moment when so many other things were not okay.

Scrambling for a different topic, JJ lifted up the box of potato salad and put on an enthusiastic voice, “Want some?”

Emily watched her blankly, and then slowly shook her head, as if she had been stuck and was taking some time to snap out of it.

JJ didn’t press her -- if Emily indeed hadn’t been eating properly, solid food might not be ideal for her to stomach right now. Instead, JJ helped herself to a large scoop. It was getting late, and she should eat up and do the errands.

Emily managed to finish her bowl of soup before she groggily excused herself. “Sorry, but I really need to lie down…” her lips quivered apologetically, “…Make yourself at home.” She stumbled away and flopped down onto the sofa, barely suppressing a loud groan as she gathered her limps and curled up on her side.

After dinner, JJ decided to take Emily up on her words and used that liberty to find out what other non-food shopping Emily needed, which turned out to be not much -- only the home medical box Emily kept in her downstairs bathroom was a little too bare for JJ’s liking.

Returning to the living room, JJ found Emily in the same spot, squeezing her eyes closed with a deep frown. A half-empty blister pack of Tylenol was discarded above Emily’s hand. An empty glass was sitting at the other end of the coffee table, far out of Emily’s reach.

JJ sighed, picked up the glass, and refilled it with water in the kitchen. “I’m heading out,” she said as she set the glass down next to Emily, who now had her eyes opened, wary of all the commotion.

“May I take the key, or would you like to lock the door behind me?” JJ asked, remembering Emily’s trepidation about the front door.

Emily looked like she was seriously debating her response. But the decision seemed to be made for her when she swung one leg to the side in an attempt to stand up, only to recoil sharply with a hiss. “T-take the key…p-please…” Emily forced the words through gritted teeth and buried her face into the sofa.

It would take some cold-hearted determination to walk away from this, but JJ knew she had to be practical. “I’ll be back soon,” She reached out to touch Emily’s hair, but withdrew her hand at the last second, not wanting to accidentally startle Emily.

Emily hummed her acknowledgment, which came out more like a whimper.

Feeling her throat closing up, JJ bit her lip, turned away, and strode towards the door.

During the next two hours, JJ put her administrative skills to good use. She did the grocery shopping, stopped at a 24-hour pharmacy, came back, put the shopping away, washed up the dirty utensils, and did the laundry. Emily wasn’t immediately on board with the last one, but relented after JJ pointed out that she had packed her ready bag and therefore had seen and touched said laundry already.

By 8:20 p.m., JJ finally circled back to the living room and sat down by Emily’s head.

Emily tilted her head back and looked up at JJ. She extended her arm and touched JJ’s thigh lightly with her knuckles. “Thank you, JJ,” she said, her eyes glistening.

“Any time.” JJ smiled at her.

Emily seemed less distressed compared to earlier, but there were droplets of sweat around her brows, and her hair was soaked and clumped up into strands. Without thinking, JJ pushed the sticky hair away from Emily’s forehead to check the temperature; she winced with regret when Emily tensed up under her touch.

Emily’s skin was clammy but not feverish. JJ drew her hand back immediately. “You feel a little sweaty. You sure you are okay?” she asked.

“Hmm--” Emily hummed in vague affirmation as she shifted uncomfortably. “Sweating releases endorphin, doesn’t it…” she commented mirthlessly.

“Huh?” JJ blinked, puzzled, and then realized that was Emily’s way of admitting she was in pain. She swallowed hard, “Can I get you anything?”

“Don’t bother.” Emily said darkly, “Nothing will make it stop…”

“I am sorry--” JJ murmured helplessly, feeling like a broken record at this point. She cleared her throat, “Can I have a look at your hands?”

Emily shrank back a little at the question, but after some dithering, she laid her hands on JJ’s lap.

Most of Emily’s nails were bitten a few millimeters too short, revealing the raw, unprotected nail bed; small cuts marred the skin around the nails.

JJ threaded her fingers through Emily’s, effectively immobilizing them. “I’m gonna put some liquid bandage on you. It might sting a little, but it will help with the pain, ok?”

Emily nodded and quietly pressed her face into the sofa. Her fingers tightened around JJ’s when the ointment first touched the raw skin. Her breathing became quicker and shallower as the same process was repeated again and again on all ten fingers, but she held very still.

JJ patted the back of Emily’s hands soothingly as they waited for the bandage to dry fully. Emily’s breathing calmed down gradually.

JJ didn’t have the heart to tell Emily off for biting her nails -- after all, the behavior could be triggered by anxiety, and Emily had been through a lot lately… But she felt obliged to warn--

“Don’t swallow it, okay? It is toxic.”

Emily actually chuckled. “I will keep that in mind.” A hint of amusement lingered in her voice.

JJ’s heart fluttered, lightening up a little.

Finally having the attention to spare, JJ turned towards the TV. “So-- What are we watching?”

“Count down.”

Having never heard of such a program, JJ sat back and paid attention. The premise of the apparently British show seemed to be straightforward enough -- one host, two contestants. There was a “letters round”, where the contestants tried to form the longest word out of randomly drawn letters; and a “numbers round”, where the contestants tried to derive an arbitrary three-digit number by applying basic arithmetic to six other randomly drawn numbers. The competition advanced at a brisk pace, but the tone of the show was unwavering. It reminded JJ of watching Reid do his daily crossword from The New York Times every morning by the office kitchen.

“… There’s the original French version too. Des chiffres et des lettres. I mixed the two together when I burned them to disks…” Emily piped up softly.

“You recorded all the…?!” JJ bit her tongue and stopped herself. She didn’t mean to sound so incredulous. This was hardly the quirkiest habit she had heard of. Not to mention, with their line of work, they had all developed some unique ways to cope.

“Why do you think you enjoy this show so much?” she asked instead.

Emily was quiet for some time; JJ thought she’d fallen asleep. She was about to check when Emily started in a small voice.

“I suppose because it is simple,” Emily whispered, “-- the rules are simple; the judgment is simple. Straightforward. Clean-cut. No gray area. No moral dilemma. No politics…” Emily’s hollow voice hung in the air, as if her mind was trapped somewhere far away, somewhere that JJ could not possibly comprehend.

JJ never perceived Emily as a black-and-white type of person. There was one time when they worked on a serial killer who suffered from severe amnesia, and Emily had questioned whether the erasement of one’s memory would make someone a different person, and whether they should still be punished in that status, from a restorative justice point of view. Another time, Emily bluntly pointed out to her that there was an opportunity cost when they collectively decided to prioritize a stalking case over the dozens of murders lying on the liaison’s desk. In those moments, JJ had felt instantly indignant, out of her own moral compass. But time had proved Emily to be one of the kindest persons she ever knew, and JJ had come to embrace it as one of the many facets of Emily Prentiss.

She had no idea Emily was struggling with the gradient of gray she wore on her sleeve.

Maybe it was presumptuous of her, maybe she was merely projecting, but JJ started to feel like there was one -- possibly more than one – overshadowing gloom that had been eating Emily alive. The realization made her heart throb and race, and for some reason, made Emily seem different in her eyes. Emily was every bit the same formidable, gorgeous woman she had known her for, but she was no longer mysterious and unapproachable. JJ felt this surreal certainty that she understood Emily, despite knowing little of the older woman’s past. And there was a burning urge in her to show Emily that – that she was not alone, that she was understood. And she wanted to hold Emily so Emily didn’t have to hug herself tight; she wanted to kiss Emily and make her giggle, to touch her until she forgot the world.

But all of these seemed improbable, and JJ’s stomach seized up helplessly. “That makes sense…” she heard herself offer weakly, at a loss for words.

Emily didn’t respond, so JJ forced her attention back to the TV screen. The format was certainly effective in attracting the audience to play along. Soon JJ found herself absentmindedly doing arithmetic and anagrams in her head.

The English credit rolled, and the French program started, which JJ found much harder to follow. She allowed her mind to wander back to reality instead. Emily was breathing evenly by her thigh. Her eyes were closed, although JJ couldn’t tell if she was asleep or not. Her hands were still secured in JJ’s, twitching occasionally.

It was getting late, almost ten o’clock. And JJ started to wonder if she had unwittingly overstated her welcome. What was the social etiquette of being a guest at someone’s house anyway, when said ‘someone’ was simultaneously a colleague with whom you would trust your life, a friend you had gone drinking with only a handful of times, as well as a woman you had just realized you had unknowingly developed feelings for?

Whatever the answer was, JJ wanted to ignore it. She wanted to stay here. Was it weird that this felt like home, more so than her own apartment?

JJ’s train of thought was cut short by an urgent need for the bathroom. She pushed herself out of the sofa, gently laying Emily’s hands down as she straightened up.

She was met with Emily’s suddenly wide-opened eyes.

“Need to use the bathroom. Be right back.” JJ placated.

JJ felt Emily’s gaze follow her out of the room. When she returned, that pair of dark orbs were waiting for her at the exact same spot.  

That was no way JJ would leave Emily on her own tonight after witnessing that.

Emily watched JJ intently until she reclaimed her previous spot on the sofa. Catching JJ’s eyes on her, Emily looked away. “It’s late. You should go home.” With her jawline stiffened, she looked like her usual polite, diplomatic self again, but her voice was brittle.

Typical Emily keeping people at arm’s length, JJ thought to herself. But she didn’t feel self-conscious or unsure of herself like she had been in the past. Quite the opposite, she felt calm, and relaxed, which surprised even herself. “It’s not thatlate,” she couldn’t help but smile a little at how unlike her the response had sounded.

“You can go home, JJ. I’ll be fine,” Emily insisted flatly.

“I’m not ready to drive all that way yet.” A lousy excuse rolled off JJ’s tongue. Technically it wasn’t a lie though. “You don’t mind me resting here for a bit longer, do you?” With her newfound courage, JJ took one step further to seal the deal.

“No,” Emil said feebly. She closed her eyes and went quiet again.

Satisfied, JJ shifted backward and fully settled herself in the corner of the sofa.

Emily’s eyes cracked open at the bounce of the cushion. She moved slightly, positioning her head closer to JJ’s legs; the tip of her nose almost grazed JJ’s clothes.

JJ looked down. Before her confidence subsided, JJ slid her fingers through Emily’s hair, gently stroking her scalp. She felt Emily tensed up and then went limp under her touch.

“You sure you won’t be more comfortable in bed?” JJ asked.

She felt Emily freeze again. “…Bedroom’s upstairs…” Emily muttered tersely, as if that was a complete explanation.

JJ blinked, and sighed internally. She figured that it meant Emily had slept on the sofa the night before. Maybe it was too painful for Emily to move up and down the stairs; maybe she wanted to keep an eye on the front door.

Either reason made JJ’s heart ache. She bit her lips, determined to not let it get to her more than it already had. “Okay, okay…” she soothed, going back to stroking Emily’s hair.

It took a bit longer for Emily to relax this time. But eventually, Emily’s breathing evened out.

JJ intentionally allowed herself to succumb to the slumber. If she fell asleep, she very much doubted Emily would wake her up in the middle of the night and kick her out.

JJ was jolted awake by a hard poke in the thigh. Her eyes stung before they could even open, due to falling asleep under a bright light. She squinted her sore eyes and looked around, bewildered.

Emily was moaning and swaying uneasily. Her arms were waving wildly, her hands clawing at something invisible. The TV was stuck on the starting screen, having played through the entire recording. A digital clock at the top right corner of the screen suggested it was only an hour past midnight.

“Emily,” JJ ventured, “Emily. Are you okay?”

No response. It seemed that Emily was deeply trapped in her sleep.

JJ hesitated, debating what was the best course of action.

But it was too late. Almost at the same time, Emily’s body jerked violently like she was punched, her limbs pushing against the cushion frantically. Before JJ could react, Emily’s movement intensified. She was tossing from side to side, as if she was scorched on a hot plate; low, agonized whimpers escaped her lips. With a particularly frenzied lurch backward, her back smashed into the sofa.

Emily screamed. Her eyes shot open as she flopped back onto her stomach, shaking, spasming, and wailing uncontrollably.

Tentatively, JJ extended a hand to comfort her. Emily flinched violently at the touch, which elicited another anguished cry of pain. JJ withdrew her hand like it was burnt.

Emily rocked herself and babbled deliriously. The only thing JJ could do was watch. JJ gritted her teeth, with nails digging into the flesh of her palms painfully.

After what felt like an eternity, the trembling lessened. Emily seemed to regain a little more control and awareness of her surroundings. She shifted uneasily, her hand fumbling around weakly but desperately.

It took a moment for JJ to figure out what Emily was searching for. She picked up the painkiller, peeled out a caplet from the pack, and handed it to Emily, who popped it into her mouth immediately.

“Whoa, whoa, slow down-- Have some water with it.” JJ intervened. She held under Emily’s shoulder and lifted her slightly so that she could rest Emily’s head in her lap.

Emily let her be maneuvered like a rag doll. When JJ held the glass of water to Emily’s lips, she had to raise her leg so she could prop Emily up just enough to reach the glass.

Emily sipped the water obediently, her teeth chattering against the rim of the glass. The first few sips were slow and calm. Then Emily choked on a mouthful and coughed, which set off a downward spiral. Emily’s body seized up as if she was electrocuted. With a panicky cry, Emily clung to JJ’s torso with both arms and buried her face into it, shaking and coughing painfully, her fingers clutching the back of JJ’s shirt in a tight grip.

JJ barely managed to save the water from spilling everywhere. She cradled Emily’s head securely in the crook of her arm before she leaned forward to put the glass back down, mindful of preventing Emily from flipping over and hurting her back again.

Emily’s coughing fit eventually reduced to soft whimpers. The lower front of JJ’s shirt was soaked through by tears, cold sweat, or both.

JJ reclined further on the sofa so that Emily lay on top of her a bit more.

Emily stirred warily at the movement.

“Relax--” JJ soothed, “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” Her fingers combed Emily’s sweat-drenched hair gently.

Emily’s skin was cold to the touch, which concerned JJ. She tugged off the blanket hanging over the back of the sofa behind her, and wrapped it over herself and Emily.

It drew a wheezing squeal of pain. Emily burrowed into her, whimpering incoherently.

“What?” JJ asked, startled, “Is it the blanket?” Instead of waiting for a response, JJ went ahead rerversing her action, stripping off the blanket.

After the trembling subsided, Emily finally mumbled quietly, “…heavy…hurt…”

“Sorry! I didn’t realize…” JJ felt her throat closed off as the guilt hit her in the stomach. “I’m so sorry Emily--”

An ice-cold hand reached up and touched JJ’s cheek, wiping away the tears JJ hadn’t realized were there. Emily peered at JJ and managed a faint, grimacing smile. “…I-it’s okay,” she whispered.

JJ covered the hand with her own, hoping to warm it up. “You are freezing. Let’s try this a different way okay?” she coaxed.

Emily nodded and pressed her face into JJ’s shirt once again.

This time JJ rearranged everything, so the cushions and her own arms and legs could support the blanket and form a little tent covering both of them, without anything touching Emily directly.

“Better?” she asked.

Emily sniffled and hummed approvingly.

JJ smiled in relief. “Good,” she said. She ran her free hand through Emily’s hair once more, and clasped her other hand, so the arm holding Emily wouldn’t accidentally slip. “Try to get some rest okay? I’ve got you…” she murmured.

Thursday

JJ fell into one of those “on alert” sleeps for the remainder of the night. She had her eyes closed, and was determined to get some rest. But at the same time, she was hyperaware of the weight in her arm, and tried to stay as still as possible.

Time passed faster than one realized on such a night. When JJ was brought back to consciousness by the alarm on her phone, it felt like she had only shut her eyes for a few minutes.

Emily was asleep, with her arms still wrapping around JJ’s waist. She started to stir as the alarm kept ringing. JJ stretched above Emily to reach for the phone on the coffee table and turned off the alarm. When she sat back, she was met with a pair of dark pupils.

Maybe it was wishful thinking on her part, but Emily seemed relaxed.

“Morning. Did you sleep well?” JJ asked.

“Umm…I guess so?” Emily mumbled. She rubbed her eyes and looked around, a perplexed expression surfacing. “How long was I asleep like this?” she asked.

“A few hours. Five maybe?” JJ said casually, secretly feeling a little proud of herself.

Emily cast her an uncertain glance. “How are your arms and legs? Sorry for crushing you--”

“They are fine. Didn’t feel a thing.” JJ lied without skipping a beat.

Emily eyed her suspiciously, but dropped the topic. An awkward silence fell between them, as Emily scrambled to untangle herself from JJ’s lap and found her footing on the floor. She excused herself with a sheepish smile, and headed towards the bathroom in wobbly steps.

Hearing the click of the door lock, JJ stood up and took this time to stretch and gather her belongings. She was in the kitchen giving her bag a final check when Emily emerged from the bathroom and rejoined her.

“I-um… have to go now,” JJ said apologetically, “Need to stop by my place first before work.”

Emily nodded, void of any particular expression.

The look on Emily’s face made JJ search frantically in her head to find something else she could do before she had to leave. Then it occurred to her-- “I’ll drive you to your check-up. When is that scheduled?” she asked.

Emily’s brow twitched. “Two o’clock on Friday,” she answered, a little reluctantly.

JJ smiled sympathetically, “I’ll pick you up at one then.” She was amazed and relieved when Emily didn’t resist accepted the offer with a soft “okay, thanks”.

JJ swallowed self-consciously. “See you tomorrow then,” she put on a bright tone, masking the anxiousness rising in her chest all of a sudden.

As she was about to turn towards the door, Emily took a couple of steps forward and, taking JJ completely by surprise, wrapped her in a hug.

“Have a nice day Jayje,” Emily’s warm breath tickled her skin, “Say hi to the team for me.” She pulled away just as abruptly, leaving JJ standing there, shivering.

Emily’s embrace left a lingering sensation over JJ’s skin and sent an electric shock down her spine. She felt her body heat up and, maybe it was her imagination, Emily’s cheeks looked a little blushed too.

“Y-you too. T-take care,” she managed lamely, light-headed. She felt Emily’s eyes on her as she walked herself out of the front door.

The chain lock rattled behind her. JJ stared ahead at the other end of the communal hallway.

Last night was not what she would have imagined in her wildest dream.

Chapter Text

Thursday continued

Sleeping upright on an uncomfortable sofa had taken its toll on JJ’s body. When she carried a stack of folders through the bullpen, JJ could feel her neck and shoulder blades protesting.

“These are yours. Hotch would like to have it by next Tuesday,” she took a few folders from the top of the stack and handed them to Morgan, grimacing when the movement cricked her neck.

“Oww JJ, more?” Morgan whined. “I already have so much paperwork to do! Cut me some slack.”

JJ grinned indulgingly, knowing he was mostly joking. However, her smile diminished as she proceeded to explain. “These were previously assigned to Emily,” she said sadly, “We are splitting it four ways among the rest of us now.”

“Ah--” Morgan sighed, his brow furrowing solemnly, “I see. No problem. Leave those with me.” He gathered the folders together and put them in his drawer.

JJ nodded with appreciation.

“Speaking of--” Morgan started, waving at his computer screen. “There are a few unfilled sections in Evans’ file.” His eyes narrowed as he uttered the name of Emily’s abductor.

JJ swallowed hard.

Evans was dead. There would be no prosecution. Apart from the routine paperwork, the only thing left for them to do was to complete the profile entry of him in their serial killer database. The testimony of a surviving victim was always invaluable in such databases. In Evans’ case, that would be Emily.

“We are not asking Emily for more statements,” JJ gritted her teeth. Not when the statement would only be a piece of research material. Emily had given enough of herself to this job.

“My thought exactly,” said Morgan. “Clark’s team may still approach her directly for an interview though, if we submit the entry like this.” He looked at JJ, inquisitively, “Do you think Emily will agree to attend the interview if asked by Clark?”

Agent Clark led a unit managing and researching on BAU’s serial killer database.

“I don’t know…” JJ answered honestly. She wouldn’t be surprised if Emily felt compelled to do it out of a sense of duty. 

“I’m not comfortable with the possibility that they will corner Emily like that,” Morgan groaned.

Neither was JJ. But, shielding someone from pain or respecting their agency? It was always a tricky balance to strike.

“I will raise it to Gideon and Hotch. See if we can block it already,” she decided.

“That sounds like a good idea. Thanks, JJ,” Morgan smiled. “Let me know if you need backup.”

After many phone calls and emails -- that was in addition to the mountain of paperwork on her desk -- compromises were made and agreements were reached. JJ dropped onto the sofa in her office with a sigh of relief.

For the entire day, JJ had been refraining from checking up on Emily. As much as she’d wanted to hear from Emily, JJ was mindful of not mistaking her own need as Emily’s. Emily probably needed some space after being hovered over last night.

Now that the working hour came to an end and sufficient time had passed, JJ figured there was no harm in sending a simple text.

“How are you doing?” she typed.

Her phone vibrated almost as soon as she pressed “Send”. JJ jumped, narrowly avoiding throwing her phone across the room.

“Hello--” Emily’s voice came through the speaker as JJ fumbled to put the phone to her ear.

“Hi. Everything alright?” JJ asked, instinctively concerned.

“Yes, yes,” Emily’s voice was still hoarse, but it had a better resonance than before, with a bit more depth and shine to it. “I thought you’d like to know how I’m doing.”

JJ’s eyes widened. “O-okay--” Faltering, JJ felt her cheeks warm up.

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“No, no,” JJ said quickly, “I’m all yours--” She bit her lip and swallowed hard when the once innocent pleasantry hit a little too close to home now.

There was a brief silence on the line. Then Emily cleared her throat. “…I’ve been lying in front of the TV all day,” she sing-songed. “I did have three meals though. Finished the pasta you made…”

It felt surreal to hear Emily talking about her day in so much detail. Emily was not someone who would disclose much about herself in casual conversations. Knowing that Emily was doing it purely for her sake brought a fluffy warm feeling in JJ’s stomach.

“--Oh, and I didn’t bite my nails, so no poisoning either,” Emily added matter-of-factly.

Emily sounded amused, almost playful. JJ felt her face burning. “T-that’s great. I’m umm r-really glad to hear that,” she stuttered.

There was a stifled chuckle on the other end of the phone.

“So, how about you? You probably didn’t get much sleep last night because of me.” Emily said.

“Oh, no, I feel fine actually--” JJ denied immediately, not wanting Emily to feel guilty and shy away again. “I think I can function with less sleep than average people. I’m used to staying up working past midnight.”

Emily let out a small, hesitant sigh, “You work too hard, JJ.”

JJ snorted, “Don’t we all?”

“You know what I mean… We all get a bit of downtime after each trip. But you and Hotch. You have all these extra paperwork and meetings…”

“Well, it’s our job to make sure you don’t have to worry about the bureaucracy when you are in the field.” And JJ did take pride in that.

“I know,” Emily said quietly, “but you also take time to do the other things…the muffins and donuts that just magically appear in the morning--”

JJ’s jaw dropped. “…y-you know about that?”

It had started with one particular flight back to Quantico. Emily had been hit by a two-by-four by the unsub. Instead of getting some rest on the plane, she had moved opposite to Reid, struggling to put on a comforting smile with her swollen cheek, to reassure him that her injury wasn’t his fault. Watching from afar, JJ had wished there were some sweet snacks aboard, just to make Emily’s smile actually reach her eyes.

That scene had been on JJ’s mind ever since. Not long after, she had also noticed that Emily had a habit of skipping breakfast, especially during their work trips. That was when JJ started her side quest, making sure small snacks were easily accessible to not only Emily but also the rest of the team, and she couldn’t help but overindulge Emily’s massive sweet tooth when she made purchases.

She had never meant for Emily to find out. But it was probably naïve of her to think she could hide it from a profiler forever.

“Of course I noticed, JJ,” Emily’s voice was low and soft. “Of course I do…”

A long moment of silence followed. JJ could hear Emily’s hastened breathing over the speaker. Then Emily whispered, “I don’t know what I-we, um, the team would do without you…”

JJ blinked, her heart pounding, unsure if she had imagined Emily’s slip of the tongue. She chuckled self-consciously, “I just hope I won’t let anyone down again--” She shuddered, remembering the Hankel case, which still loomed over her after all this time. And then there was Evans…

Emily interrupted JJ’s trail of thoughts, her voice growing serious, “You know how good you are at this job, right?”

JJ swallowed hard. Sure, she knew her value -- at least on a good day she did -- and she had a reasonable amount of confidence in her own craft, whether it was hosting press conferences, talking to the victims’ families, or screening cases submitted by the local law enforcement. But it never felt enough. If only she had been sharper, stronger, or working harder, maybe there would be one less victim on the whiteboard, or maybe her teammates wouldn’t be snatched by the unsubs and come back covered in scars and bruises.

“Uhmm--” JJ forced out a vague noise, hoping it sounded like she was agreeing, thus Emily wouldn’t try to convince her further.

There was another moment of silence. Then Emily said quietly, “We are very lucky to have you, JJ.” She delivered the line in a gentle, measured way, like she was afraid to spook JJ; like she understood JJ’s deep discomfort. “… now tell me, how was your day?”

Relieved by the quick change of subject, JJ loosened up a little. “It’s basically cooped up in my office and catching up with paperwork,” she laughed, “Boring stuff. I’m sure you don’t want to hear--”

JJ never vented to her colleagues about the administrative part of her job. She had meant it when she vowed to shield her field agent teammates from the headaches of bureaucracy. Spilling out her work frustration to them would defeat the purpose.

True, there was also Garcia. But Garcia, whose usual solution to bureaucracy was immediately hacking into their computer system, would be even less able to empathize with all the effort JJ put into carefully toeing the line and circumventing the red tape. Not that JJ would want to change that. It was comforting to know the world still had someone like Garcia, who was fierce and unwavering in her own way.

While it was entirely by her choice, the feeling of isolation did get to JJ from time to time. She had a job description different from the rest of the team, and she had never truly talked to anyone about it.

“… Actually, I do--” Emily started. “If you want to talk about it, that is,” she cautiously added. “If you need to vent to somebody…”

JJ felt herself swelled with a storm of emotions. Her eyes stung a little.

“Umm. Okay, let’s see…” JJ took a deep breath, and searched for something light-hearted that hopefully could draw a bit of a laugh. “Do you know there is this ridiculous spreadsheet I need to put together and submit to the audit committee every month?”

When Emily made a curious noise in response, JJ smiled. She settled further back into her sofa, and proceeded to give a humorous recount of one of the most incompetently developed administrative processes she had ever seen.

Friday

As promised, JJ drove Emily to the hospital for her check-up on Friday after lunch.

It didn’t take a profiler to notice how nervous Emily was. She barely spoke, and her hand curled up in a tight fist throughout the entire car journey.

Intending to make Emily feel more comfortable, JJ let Emily take the lead. The only thing she didn’t budge on was that she would be waiting in the waiting area. Emily had suggested the hospital cafeteria instead, but she didn’t put up much of a fight when JJ firmly said no.

Emily was called to queue outside the examination room not long after they arrived. She jolted into a standing position and took off without a word. JJ stayed behind in silence, well aware that Emily needed the space.

The door to the hallway outside the examination rooms swung open every so often, allowing JJ to catch a glimpse of Emily’s profile. Emily was standing straight like a statue, her back close to but not touching the wall, her eyes fixated on the examination room in front of her.

JJ was tied up in knots of worry. She forced herself to look away. When that didn’t really take her mind off it, JJ decided to whip out her work phone and find something to occupy her attention with.

A phone call came in at that exact moment, saving her from the aimless search.

The phone call went on and on. The journalist on the phone was unusually chatty, which in turn gave JJ a mild headache. Out of the corner of her eyes, JJ saw Emily emerging out of the examination room.

The one-sided conversation on her cell phone just kept on going, and JJ had to put a stop to it very sternly and, as a result, reluctantly promised to catch up at a later time.

JJ pressed the hang-up button while repeating the new appointment time in her head a few more times so that she could put it in her calendar correctly later. She felt a pair of arms wrapped around her neck, and she was engulfed by a familiar smell.

“Hey-- All done?” JJ asked, smiling a little.

She felt Emily nuzzling into the crook of her neck. Emily’s skin was cold and clammy. And then some cool liquid was trickling down where their skins contacted.

“What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” JJ asked, the smile wiped out from her face.

“Mm-hmm--” Emily murmured what sounded like an affirmation against JJ’s skin. In the next few seconds, Emily was completely quiet, although her tears had started puddling inside the collar of JJ’s shirt.

“Emily?” JJ ventured. She felt Emily’s warm, shuddered breath on her neck. She wanted to turn around and take a proper look at Emily, but Emily tightened her arms and wouldn’t let her.

“I’m tired, Jayj--” Emily finally said in a small voice.

She sounded like a lost child. Her body was twitching unnaturally, like it had decided it was too exhausted to shake.

JJ rubbed her hands back and forth along Emily’s arms, wishing she could offer a form of comfort that was more effective.

 “Okay,” she coaxed, putting on a cheerful voice. A strong sense of protectiveness took over her, and the term of endearment just slipped out. “Let’s get you home then, sweetheart.”

Their drive home was as silent as their journey in the other direction, with Emily spending most of the time facing the passenger-side window.

Emily was finally willing to turn around when they arrived outside her building, giving JJ a chance to examine her face. Emily had pulled herself together like she always did. Apart from the redness in the corners of her eyes, nothing was apparently out of the ordinary.

“Do you have time to come up and sit for a bit?” Emily asked. Her voice was steady, but the curled-up fingers revealed how uneasy she was feeling.

JJ wasn’t expecting such an invitation, but her day job had taught her to pre-plan for the most unlikely scenarios, which included making Hotch aware she might need the entire afternoon off before she left earlier that day. And now JJ was incredibly happy with her foresight.

What JJ hadn’t anticipated was how much of a struggle ascending the stairs turned out to be.

Emily made her way through the first two flights of stairs at a normal speed, keeping a firm grip on the railing. She slowed down considerably halfway through, pulling herself up with both of her hands instead of one. She seemed determined to conquer it by herself, so JJ resigned to hovering and protecting on a couple of stairs below.

Just then, an overexcited child appeared out of nowhere and slid down the handrail towards them. With remarkable reflexes, Emily released both hands and launched herself sideways, only narrowly avoiding the collision. Her legs buckled, sending her crashing into the staircase with a loud bang. The edge of the stairs dug into her right kneecap.

It took quite some self-restraint for JJ to stop herself from angrily barking at the pesky brat, who slid past them without slowing down.

“Sorry--” they heard the kid shouting from the ground floor, and the open and close of the front door.

JJ muttered a silent swear. She blushed when she noticed Emily watching her with a tiny smile. The smile soon turned into a grimace as Emily reached out for her.

“Stairs are hard,” she admitted quietly, “My hips are killing me…”

JJ crouched down and extended her hand, which Emily ignored. Instead, she draped her arm around JJ’s shoulders, her whole upper body pressing tightly against JJ’s.

The way Emily leaned into her, all trusting and vulnerable -- which had suddenly become a familiar occurrence in the last few days -- made JJ tingle just like the first time it had happened.

JJ gritted her teeth and pulled both of them up. They were of similar build -- although Emily was slightly taller and had broader shoulders -- so that wasn’t a breeze. She managed to take a few steps to the side so Emily could hold onto the handrail again.

Emily shifted her body weight off JJ as she focused on her gait, putting one foot in front of the other; but she kept her arm wrapping around JJ. Her legs were now visibly shaking, despite the disguise of the baggy cargo pants.

Emily didn’t let go, not when they entered her apartment, nor when JJ carefully lowered her onto the sofa -- The latter directly resulted in JJ being dragged down with Emily and landing on the floor next to her in a heap.

Emily looked at her, her brows knitted. There were small creases in her eyelids, accentuating her dark, glittering eyes. She looked almost fragile, like she was holding a million things in behind that frown.

 “I’m not going anywhere,” was the first thing JJ blurted out.

To her chagrin, Emily’s immediate reaction was to subtly, but unmistakably draw her arm back to herself.

I recognized that, JJ mused soundlessly. I can recognize what Emily is doing now.

Somehow, she had always known it in the back of her mind. The last couple of days only served to spell it out for her like an opened book.

The longing for warmth, the shield around oneself, and the fear of relying on people or forming attachments -- things JJ had been feeling since she was a child, on the day when she found her elder sister’s lifeless body on the bathroom floor, through the dark years when she fought tooth and nails to get out of her hometown, to finally live and breathe.

Those were what had allowed her to pick up on all Emily’s tiny tells -- the intent looks from afar, the pinched lips, the sadness underlying every “I’m fine” she had ever uttered -- and made her curious and concerned about the dark-haired woman pretty much since the day they had met.

It just hadn’t clicked in her head until now. Maybe because Emily had always appeared to be so unwavering, so confident, and JJ had never entertained the idea that Emily might be struggling in a way that she could deeply relate to.

JJ cupped her hand over Emily’s crown, and, when Emily didn’t resist, used her thumb to rub gentle circles on Emily’s forehand, close to her hairline.

Emily just kept looking at her, like time had been frozen and she wasn’t sure what to do. She didn’t reciprocate when JJ offered a comforting smile.

Emily disliked being fussed over, but JJ had noticed how she would force herself to show immediate appreciation whenever it happened, usually through a smile or a humorous remark. It was almost a relief, that Emily wasn’t trying to put on a façade in front of her.

Both of them were quiet for some time.

“Was everything really okay during the check-up?” It was JJ who broke the silence.

Emily’s jawline stiffened. She regarded JJ with darkened pupils, her face void of any other expression.

JJ held her gaze unflinchingly.

Emily closed her eyes. JJ figured Emily was avoiding the answer. She watched Emily’s eyelid twitching and her face squinched up in discomfort.

Suddenly, Emily’s eyes shot open. Her dark wild pupils landed on JJ again.  She let out a shuddered breath.

“I had flashbacks,” she whispered, and then gasped exasperatedly. “Hospitals always feel so invasive…”

“You are home now,” JJ said weakly, suspecting such a statement wasn’t providing much comfort at all.

Emily turned her head towards the ceiling. Her ragged breathing was the only sound in the room, and it was deafening to JJ’s ears.

JJ bit her lips; she put her other hand on top of Emily’s.

Emily’s eyes fell back on their touching hands. She took a deep breath --

“I heard his voice.”

JJ froze. The way Emily’s lips trembled left her in no doubt whom Emily was talking about.

“Evans talked a lot,” Emily continued, referring to her abductor by name. Her tone was neutral, like she was reading out a fact from a profile.

JJ shivered.

Emily’s voice sounded like it was far away, drifting in from the edge of the universe. “…Preaching about a wife’s duty, berating me, begging for my compliance, and back to preaching again.” She stared intensely at their intertwining hands while she spoke, as if the world was anchored to it.

“…I could sense him approaching…That coward, dared not untie me for a second.” The shadow of a sneer emerged at the corner of her mouth, but it disappeared just as quickly.

“…I couldn’t move. Could only listen to his footsteps. The heat of his body. The breathing… His voice would get sickeningly soft…” Finally, there was a crack in her flat, detached voice. “…Then there would be a pause. Then pain, so much pain…”

JJ held her breath, afraid that the tiniest movement would spook Emily and make her shut down again.

But Emily was already looking up at her. “…When I lay face down on the examination table, that was all I could think of.” The haziness in Emily’s speech was gone, replaced by her usual carefully calibrated composure. Her lips tilted up into a ghostly, self-deprecating smile, “…and it won’t get out of my head now.”

JJ watched Emily’s jaw clench up again, and realised that the confession was over.

“He’s dead. He won’t hurt you anymore.” JJ said gently.

An uneasy twitch flashed across Emily’s face. She looked away again, hiding her eyes behind the thick trembling lashes, and muttered something under her breath. It took JJ a moment to decipher the whisper --

“Not all of them are…”

For a split second, JJ felt her head spinning, thinking that Evans had had an accomplice, and they had let a serial killer on the loose. But she soon realized that the closed-off expression on Emily’s face would suggest otherwise -- it wasn’t about any immediate concern; Emily was talking about somebody else, somebody from her past.

It was the first time JJ heard Emily allude to her past with a hint of trepidation. JJ froze, unsure if Emily had meant to let that slip, unsure if she should pretend that she hadn’t heard anything.

But the stop of the motion of her hand had already alerted Emily, who was now sharply looking into her eyes. JJ opened her mouth, even though she had no plan for what to say.

“Don’t--” There was a silent plea underlying Emily’s sharp, strained retort. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry. Forget about it, please.”

“Okay,” JJ backed down immediately.

She did understand, on the most desperate level, what it was like to feel unable to talk about things.

JJ had never talked to anyone about Ros since leaving her hometown. To be fair, she had never talked about it when she was there either, because people, including her parents, avoided the topic like a plague. The only difference was, everyone in that small town had already known.

It was a relief to leave all that behind when she moved away, to no longer be known as “the other daughter of the tragic family”. But it was also suffocating, when a moment of sadness struck unexpectedly, triggered by the most mundane objects in life -- the tiny porcelain teacup sets, the sight of a swing -- and there was nobody by her side who understood why she would suddenly flinch and look away.

JJ wondered if that was akin to what Emily was feeling, isolated by the secrecy of one’s demon, trusting nobody to shoulder the pain with.

“I won’t pry,” she reassured Emily, cautiously. “But if…um...if you ever need to vent to somebody…”

She was glad she thought to quote verbatim Emily’s words from the day before, because Emily had clearly picked up on it, and managed a tiny smile in return.

The talking seemed to have drained up the last of Emily’s energy. Her eyelids drooped as JJ resumed stroking her hair, settling back into silence. For the first few times, Emily’s eyes snapped open as soon as they closed. But it didn’t take long before she started to struggle with staying awake.

“It’s okay. Close your eyes,” JJ coaxed earnestly. “I’ll stay right here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Emily looked at her through long wet lashes, as if debating whether to take JJ up on her offer.

Eventually, she mumbled, “Don’t sit on the floor. It’s bad for your back.”

JJ laughed hoarsely at how typical that sounded.

“Let me worry about that, will you?” she chastised softly.

“Fine,” Emily scowled, although she didn’t look genuinely annoyed; her cheeks even went a little pink. With a gentle squeeze of JJ’s fingers, she finally allowed her eyes to close fully.

JJ leaned against the sofa and watched Emily take long, controlled breaths in and out. Despite still being a little battered, Emily looked absolutely beautiful. Every contour of her face had a strong, elegant definition, like it was carved out of ivory marble. In perfect contrast was the pitch-black hair draping over her face, all soft and fluffy, and her equally dark brows and long eyelashes.

Emily wasn’t having a peaceful time. She was gritting her teeth, and there were deep furrows in her brows. Every now and then, her lashes would flutter, and her fingers would stir and fumble. They wouldn’t settle until they were reassured that JJ’s hand was still there with them.

The sleep -- if Emily had managed to get any -- lasted less than two hours. When Emily woke up, she insisted that she was well-rested, and JJ should go home.

JJ did not argue, knowing the sense of control was important for someone who had been held hostage.

Emily hugged her again at the door. At least this time JJ was mentally prepared well enough to hug her back. It wasn’t a brief social hug either. Emily had rested her chin on top of JJ’s shoulder, and her cheek was leaning against JJ’s.

JJ held Emily, feeling the weight upon her, until the dark-haired woman was ready to pull away.

Saturday

JJ spent most of her Saturday catching up on the businesses she had been neglecting all week, first household chores, and then as much work assignment as she could get through.

Emily called in the afternoon.

“Are you free tomorrow?” she asked, after a brief exchange about each other’s day.

“Yes--” JJ said slowly, taken by surprise. “What’s up? Are you okay?”

“Yes, ” Emily sounded amused again and -- JJ wasn’t sure if she was imagining it -- a little anxious. “May I buy you lunch tomorrow? I’d like to thank you for everything you’ve done for me in the past week.”

JJ’s mouth opened and closed. There were so many thoughts swirling in her mind. She decided to spell out the first question that popped into her head, desperately hoping it wouldn’t sound like she was rejecting the idea. “Are you sure you will enjoy it? Sitting through the meal in a restaurant…” Emily hadn’t been out in the public much since her injury. JJ had been there each time, and she knew Emily had been struggling.

“I’ll manage,” Emily replied, which meant her real answer was no.

JJ sighed, “We can just stay in you know? It doesn’t have to be takeaway,” she chuckled to herself, well aware that after practically living on takeaways whenever they were traveling, neither of them relished the idea of seeing those cardboard boxes at home. “I can cook something.”

 “That’s a lot of work for you,” Emily hesitated. “Besides, I don’t have many ingredients in stock. Only some wine.”

“That’s perfect,” JJ laughed, recalling the fancy wine rack in Emily’s kitchen. “I’ll bring the ingredients; you can provide the wine.” She thought for a moment then added, “If it makes you feel better, I will send you the supermarket recipe for reimbursement.”

Emily hummed, sounding somewhat persuaded, so JJ prompted, “What would you like to eat?”

“Uh, I can’t possibly make requests, after you’ve so kindly offered to cook…”

“Humour me. I like the idea of being able to cook to order, you know, like a proper chef.”

There was a pause. “Bouillabaisse?” Emily suggested tentatively, “I used to have it a lot at my grandfather’s cottage.”

“You got it.” JJ smiled. She had never made the dish before, but surely she could figure something out by tomorrow.

Not until she hung up the phone did JJ realize that Emily Prentiss had asked her out on a date -- well maybe not a date; she supposed close friends would also take each other out for meals and subsequently agree to change the location of said meal to their own home. Either way, that was pretty awesome.

Sunday

JJ arrived at Emily’s door with ingredients in hand and recipes in mind.

Emily welcomed her in. JJ immediately noticed that Emily wasn’t wearing a sweatshirt like she had been for the last few days. Instead, she was in a navy-blue button-up shirt -- one of those with a wide V-shaped collar that accentuated Emily’s beautiful long neck. And JJ always thought navy blue brought out Emily’s dark eyes.

It was a loose-fitting shirt. Even though Emily had done up the top button, JJ could still see the bruise near her collarbone.

She averted her eyes, hoping Emily hadn’t caught her staring, and dropped the bags onto the counter. “It’s time for you to hold your end of the bargain,” she teased purposefully.

Emily laughed, “Of course.”

She headed to the wine rack. This was when JJ noticed there was a crystal decanter next to the rack, already filled with red wine.

It was a world JJ knew nothing about, and one that Emily was clearly comfortable with.

Suddenly feeling self-conscious, JJ looked away. She busied herself with untying the bag of mussels and pouring them into a pot she fetched from the cupboard.

“Come on. You couldn’t have waited for five minutes?” She heard Emily behind her, practically pouting.

“My hands are occupied now. You go ahead first. I’ll get round to it.” JJ managed, only half-convincingly. Drinking Emily’s expensive wine suddenly felt very intimidating right now, and JJ wasn’t exactly sure why.

JJ turned on the tap, letting the loud noise of the stream drown out any possibility of continuing this conversation.

What JJ didn’t expect was a nudge on her arm as soon as she turned off the tap. She turned her head and was met with a glass of red wine under her nose.

“Let me know what you think of it,” Emily grinned, lifting the glass to JJ’s lips.

JJ’s breath hitched. She had been physically close to Emily more frequently in the last week than ever before. But on all those occasions, she was only helping, providing care. This was totally different -- Emily was glowing; her eyes fell on JJ’s mouth, intently tracking its movement.

Blushing fervently, JJ watched Emily’s long fingers meticulously directing the glass. She shivered when the cold crystal contacted her burning skin. 

The rich ruby liquid flowed over her tongue, leaving a mesmerising sensation. It trickled down her throat and fueled the fire that was already spreading inside her body. The taste was spicy, and sweet, and acidic, and many other things at the same time. JJ dared not roll her tongue inside her mouth to actually savour it, because Emily was watching her mouth with big, expressive eyes.

“I like it,” was all JJ managed to utter.

Emily looked pleased with herself. Her eyes sparkled with mild excitement. So JJ felt obliged to add --

“I’m afraid it is wasted on me though. I couldn’t tell you how it is different from the other red I’ve had. They all have the same effect on me -- you know, as in the effect that alcohol has on people…” she trailed off sheepishly.

Emily didn’t seem disappointed by JJ’s claim of ignorance in the slightest. “Isn’t that the truth,” she laughed warmly. “They make absolutely no difference in the intoxication we get in the end.”

JJ felt her heart melting. She was hit by the effect of alcohol now, and it wasn’t going to let her process the multitude of feelings inside her.

Desperate to channel her tipsy energy to something that was definitely safe and useful, JJ picked up the brush and started scrubbing the pot full of shellfish.

Emily had topped up JJ’s wine glass and set it next to the sink, and now was leaning against the counter, watching JJ’s movement with interest. Her cheeks were pink from the wine. And her lips were even pinker. Being the center of attention of someone with lips like that was…

When Emily noticed JJ’s gaze, she appeared to be fascinated by the wine in her hand all of a sudden.

JJ detected something in Emily’s unusual shyness.

“Would you like to share the cooking?” she asked.

“No, no. I don’t want to be disruptive--”

JJ frowned at how deeply Emily’s mother’s words were ingrained in her.

“You won’t be,” she said firmly. “Nothing super exciting though. If you want, you could chop up some onion and garlic for me…”

Emily nodded. Her posture softened as she made her way towards the shelf.

“Wait--” JJ called out behind her. “Let me have a look at your fingers.”

Emily gave her a quizzical look. She walked back and put both of her hands in JJ’s upturned palms.

As always, JJ’s heart raced when Emily’s soft skin made contact with hers. She lowered her eyes to inspect Emily’s nails. Most of them were healing, except for the right index finger, which had fresher bite marks.

Emily’s fingers fidgeted. She pinched her lips nervously, clearly realizing what JJ was looking for.

JJ carefully schooled her face not to react. “Put some gloves on. I saw there were some latex ones in that drawer. I don’t want anything to sting your hand,” she instructed neutrally.

Emily was visibly relieved. “There really is nothing that escapes your notice, is there?” she chuckled.

JJ blushed profusely. “I wish,” she sighed, deflating a little.

Emily’s lips pursed in disagreement. She was about to say something, but after casting a concerned look at JJ’s direction, she snapped her mouth shut.

A brief commotion ensued, and they settled into their respective tasks at hand. The kitchen suddenly became a lively place, with the two of them orbiting around each other -- Emily beckoning her over to confirm what cut the vegetables should be chopped into, and herself letting Emily peak over her shoulder to see how she prepped different types of seafood. The pot started sizzling in record time, and the aroma of herbs and the warm steam of the simmering broth soon filled the air.

It was unbelievably domestic. And it came so naturally that one would think they had been doing this forever.

Forty minutes or so later, JJ dipped the ladle in the sauce and took a sip. Emily watched her with fascination.

Deciding it was under-seasoned, JJ sprinkled some more salt.

“My turn, my turn--” Emily demanded next to her like a giddy child, which made JJ laugh.

She sampled some more from the pot, blew on it to cool it down, and handed it to Emily, who eagerly put it into her mouth.

“You’re a genius,” Emily exclaimed. “It’s delicious.”

JJ felt her cheeks burning up at the compliment -- but maybe it was just because of the steam of the stew.

Then she noticed a bit of sauce had been left above Emily’s upper lip.

“You’ve got--” JJ indicated the mirroring location on her own lips.

She was completely taken by surprise when Emily simply leaned over, puckering her lips ever so slightly.

Perhaps it was an entirely natural reaction from someone who had both of their hands occupied -- wine glass in one and the ladle in the other -- but JJ’s heart almost leaped out of her chest at the sight of it. Emily looked more adorable than JJ had ever seen her be, with her eyeing JJ expectantly, trusting JJ to help her out.

Extending a trembling hand, JJ reached out and wiped off the stain.

Emily’s lips were even softer and plumper than she had remembered. JJ felt electricity shooting from her fingertip straight to her heart. She heard the sound of herself swallowing echoing in her ears.

She wondered if Emily had heard it too, because Emily’s eyes widened. Her cheeks got even rosier.

“I…um…am gonna wash up some plates,” JJ mumbled. She headed towards the sink, grateful for the excuse to submerge her hands under the cold water.

She got self-conscious about sitting opposite Emily at the dining table. But Emily’s wide smile put her at ease again.

Emily looked happy and relaxed. Her appetite hadn’t fully recovered, but she seemed to be enjoying eating again. When she dipped a slice of bread in the soup and then took a bite, her eyes closed briefly in contentment. And JJ swore she heard a quiet moan.

JJ picked up her glass and took slow sips from it, trying to hide the fact that she was grinning like an idiot.

The cell phone on the coffee table buzzed, interrupting their peaceful meal.

Emily excused herself courteously and walked over. She glanced at the screen of her phone; the smile she had been wearing since the start of the meal withered a little. She picked up the call, her eyes falling on JJ briefly, but she didn’t retreat to somewhere with more privacy.

“Hello,” Emily replied to whoever was on the other end of the phone evenly. “…I am good. Work is going well. How about you?”

JJ couldn’t help but raise her brows, watching Emily lie through her teeth. She wasn’t necessarily surprised -- when her own work didn’t go well, there were only a handful of people who would know, and each and every one of them would be an FBI employee -- but it didn’t make it easier to witness Emily doing the same.

JJ shifted her focus back to her own meal out of politeness, but she still took note of how Emily’s body tensed up and her jaw stiffened like she was bracing for impact, as she listened to the other end of the phone.

Finally, Emily took a deep breath.

“I am sorry I didn’t get back to you that day,” she said, her voice not revealing any emotion. Then she winced and held the phone a little further away from her ear. She patiently listened for some more time before finally responding in a rather diplomatic manner, “I understand I made you worried, Mother. We were on a security-restricted case last weekend. No phones allowed.” Her lips trembled almost unnoticeably. “I did text you as soon as I could.”

JJ closed her eyes, her heart aching uncontrollably. Last weekend, Emily was tied up in a basement, covered in blood.

“…I will keep that in mind going forward,” Emily spoke again. JJ noticed that she was carrying the conversation with the same professional friendliness she wore around Quantico -- warm and distant at the same time. She also noticed that Emily didn’t actually promise anything. Acknowledge the issue and the frustration with sincerity, but never make premature commitments -- it was an office tactic that she, Emily, Hotch, and no doubt Ambassador Prentiss, were all familiar with. JJ wondered if Ambassador Prentiss had picked up on that; if she understood.

Emily spent another long moment listening attentively, giving occasional reactions like “That sounds great”. Then she inhaled and exhaled subtly. “…I am always glad to hear you are thriving at your post, Mother…Talk to you next week,” Emily said softly before hanging up.

JJ hadn’t anticipated the abrupt end to the call, so she was caught full-on staring.

Emily met her eyes. “That was Mother,” she said flatly, with an awkward twitch in her lips. “She calls me every Sunday for the last couple of years. She has a tight schedule and she hates when others mess it up.”

JJ swallowed hard, thinking of the previous Sunday when Emily passed out in her arms from unbearable pain.

“She doesn’t know,” JJ whispered. That much was obvious, so it wasn’t really a question.

Emily shook her head. She sat back down at the table, her eyes carefully tracing JJ’s facial expression, as if she expected JJ to judge her.

I know how you feel, JJ wanted to say.

She herself wasn’t exactly candid to her parents either.

When JJ chose an out-of-state university, when she signed up for the Academy, her parents didn’t object, but they weren’t thrilled either. JJ knew her parents had dreamed of a different life -- daughters settling down close by, in the same simple, rural neighborhood; grandchildren running around before they were too old to chase after them… Instead, they had lost one daughter, and the other one had decided to leave the town without looking back, and then throw herself into a dangerous job. They never explicitly expressed their disappointment, but JJ felt it in her bones all the same.

In her rational brain, JJ knew she had the right to live her own life, and she wouldn’t change any of her life decisions. Nevertheless, she had always been carrying the guilt that she had let her parents down, again.

JJ had chosen to be trained as a media liaison, hoping that such a desk-job-sounding title could bring her parents some comfort. The reality was, since joining BAU, she had been spending more and more time in the field, and she was loving it. She never told her parents any of these, let alone the hardship that came with the job.

She could still hear in her head that little speech she was given at sixteen. She had injured her knee at soccer training and her father had been contacted. “Your mother and I can never understand why you are still doing this,” her father had said begrudgingly on their way to the hospital. “Everything is lined up for you here. I told you, Mr. Jones -- Tony -- would give you a role in his shop as soon as you graduate high school. We saved that piece of land specifically for you so you can start a family on it. But no, you just have to make a fuss--”

She remembered feeling like a heavy rock weighing down her chest, and her right kneecap was in scorching pain. The only thing she had managed to say was “Thank you for picking me up. Sorry you had to take leave from work”. Because being ungrateful had been the number one sin in her childhood, and nothing else had mattered.

During her last visit home, the sight of a group of farm dogs had made her jump and back away. Her parents had joked that “the city life has softened her”, and JJ had kept her mouth shut. Unsurprisingly, her parents had taken offense when she failed to finish her dinner later that evening. “You need to eat well to be healthy. You used to be such a good eater when you were little. I bet it’s that job of yours.” Her mother had said, eyes rolling.

She no longer told her parents about her achievements at work either, whether it was the extra hours she had spent on close combat training, profiling, and undercover, or how glad she had been making small progress every day. She had made the mistake of sharing once, and her mom had immediately responded, “It is only a job at the end of the day. A woman’s clock ticks fast, and you are not as young as you think. Instead of getting distracted by all this nonsense, you’d be better off putting some effort into your personal life.” -- “Personal life” was synonymous with “grandchildren” in her mom’s vocabulary.

Needless to say, she never repeated that mistake again.

In the years that followed, JJ had learned to stick to one sentiment only -- “I’m doing well. Yes, work is busy. Yes, I make sure to eat healthily and sleep plenty.” It had made the phone calls with her parents more amicable, and that was all she could hope for.

She suspected that was not far from what Emily was going through.

But it was not possible to tell Emily this without diving into JJ’s personal history, and JJ wasn’t ready for it. Even if she was, it wouldn’t be appropriate to burden Emily with such things right now.

In the end, all JJ said was, “Are you okay?”

-- Do you feel a tremendous loneliness like I do whenever I am on the phone with my parents?

Emily looked into her eyes, her face unreadable. She opened her mouth slightly, and JJ was expecting her to say she was fine, as she always had done. Instead--

“It is what it is,” Emily said stiffly. “Don’t worry about it.” She picked up her spoon, managing a tight smile, “We can’t let your hard work get cold.”

 “Our hard work,” JJ corrected her automatically. She walked around to the other side of the table and sat down next to Emily. “And it will be fine for a few more minutes,” she tentatively wrapped her arm around Emily’s shoulders.

Emily tensed up. And she shot JJ a glance that almost seemed defensive. But eventually she rested her head on JJ, and let out a quivering sigh.

“Anything I can do?” JJ ventured after a long silence.

Emily made a choked sound. Out of the corner of her eyes, JJ saw Emily lift her hand discreetly and wipe her face. “You’ve done so much already,” she murmured.

Heart pounding, JJ tightened her embrace. She felt Emily shifting; her hair rubbing against JJ’s skin.

“I want to go back to work tomorrow.” Emily’s voice was muffled.

 “Tomorrow?” That was not even the half-point of Emily’s medical leave.

“Yes.” Emily sat up straight and was facing JJ now, eyes lowered. Her lashes were in wet strands. “I can handle it. I want to do it. Staying at home is driving me mad.”

Despite her own doubt, JJ was not going to discourage Emily. “At least let me drive you,” she pleaded.

“It’s a short drive JJ. I promise I’ll be fine.” Emily smiled feebly.

“I’m sure you will. Just humour me please, for my peace of mind…” JJ tilted her head. She hoped she was getting the hang of it -- talking Emily into things.

“Fine,” Emily seemed resigned. “Thanks, Jayj.” Her voice was sheepish, and appreciative. She lay her head back on JJ’s shoulder again.

Monday

Picking up Emily on her way to work meant JJ had to get up forty minutes earlier than usual. Not that she minded. She was immensely glad that Emily was willing to accept her help on a daily basis.

Emily showed up in her regular office attire. For a moment, everything seemed to be back to normal. But then when Emily settled into the passenger seat, JJ noticed how her suits were slightly too loose on her, and her makeup didn’t soak into her skin as well as usual.

It was a blatant reminder that things were not the same anymore. And it might never be the same again.

One of the perks of being the media liaison was a private office, which was located halfway between the elevator and the bullpen.

They had barely walked past JJ’s office -- it didn’t even occur to JJ to leave Emily and head to her own desk instead -- when Agent Lee emerged from the bullpen door and came towards them.

“Morning,” he greeted them without stopping in his step, “Prentiss! Good to see you’re feeling better.”

 “I’m so glad to be back,” Emily laughed; JJ sensed a hint of forced excitement surfacing from her voice.

Engrossed in his own errands, Agent Lee appeared to be oblivious to Emily’s uneasiness. “We should catch up later to go over your reinstatement checklist. I also need to schedule the psych evaluation for you. And JJ, I will see you at the 11:30 meeting--” he checked his watch, smiled hastily and nodded absentmindedly in their direction.

They watched Agent Lee rush towards the elevator. In her peripheral vision, JJ saw Emily biting her lip. JJ fidgeted a little herself, wondering what was on Emily’s mind, and if she could do anything to help.

Before she was able to reach any conclusion, Emily turned to her.

“I don’t need to be chaperoned to my desk,” Emily said, calmly but tersely. She took a step away from JJ. Her eyes were clouded, and her body was rigid like a stretched bow.

It reminded JJ of the Emily she used to know, over the many hours working together in this very building, which felt like a lifetime ago now.

Thrown off guard, JJ gulped, but years of job experience allowed her to quickly recover. “Of course not,” she said neutrally. “This is me,” she smiled and gestured at her office door, pretending she had missed it by accident. “I’ll see you after work, if not earlier.”

Emily looked uncertain. Her mouth quivered as if she was about to say something. But in the end, she whirled on her heel and stalked off without a word.

Chapter Text

There was a sofa in JJ’s office. It had been there since before she moved in. For something taking up one-third of the square footage of a room, it was an unremarkable piece of furniture -- covered in black faux leather, bulky, and not comfortable to sit on at all. The surface was wrinkled and covered in tiny cracks -- the only indicator that it had borne witness to the hundreds of visitors of hers.

It was where she had been liaising between BAU and the rest of the world. Countless people came and went -- political players, law enforcement, families of victims... JJ did not relax around this sofa. She never took a nap on it, never sipped her morning coffee on it. It was her battlefront.

The first day having Emily back in the office was an odd experience overall. As expected, Garcia was overjoyed, and had enlisted Reid and Morgan to hover over Emily, making sure everything was comfortable. And Emily appeared to slip right back into her office mode, smiling and bantering with everyone.

However, JJ knew from the little episode in the morning that Emily was more anxious than she let on.

JJ didn’t see Emily again until the end of the day. It was partially intentional -- JJ didn’t want to overwhelm Emily when the rest of the team were taking turns fussing over her -- and partially inevitable, given her own busy schedule.

When Emily finally got into JJ’s car in the parking lot, she looked completely drained. She groaned under her breath as she lowered herself onto the passenger seat; her head collapsed against the headrest almost immediately.

“How was your day?” JJ asked softly.

“It’s good,” Emily said politely, if only a little too tightly. “How about you?”

Much better now that you are here, JJ thought to herself.  But all she said out loud was, “Not bad either. I’m glad the day is over though.”

Emily smiled at her weakly, and cautiously turned away when JJ started the engine. She spent the entire driving facing the side window.

The next couple of days were similar. Apart from being Emily’s chauffeur for the commute, JJ didn’t get to spend more time with the older agent. Therefore, when someone knocked on the door and JJ looked over the pile of paperwork to find the sight of Emily, she broke into a genuine smile.

“Hey--” she said warmly, “How’s your day been?”

“Everything’s good,” Emily assured her.

JJ schooled her expression not to react to the clichéd response.

It didn’t escape Emily’s notice though. “I feel good”, the older agent repeated with added emphasis. She took a step inside and waved the folder in her hand, “I was wondering if you could review the media strategy section of my consultation report before I submit it to Hotch.” She hesitated. “Are you busy? I can come back later--”

JJ wasn’t about to turn down the opportunity to spend time with Emily alone. “No, no. Come on in,” she said. “Take a seat. Let’s do it now.”

Emily closed the door behind her and made her way towards the black leather sofa opposite JJ’s desk. She dropped the folder on the coffee table and took a seat, leaning heavily on her side against the armrests to take pressure off her back. Emily could sit normally now, but not for too long at a time. She had been doing a pretty good job concealing that from everyone else, but JJ could tell.

JJ pulled a chair to join Emily. She picked up the folder and felt its weight. “Jeez, Emily. Done already?” She exclaimed. “You’ve been back for how long?”

Emily shrugged. “I had nothing better to do at home, ” she said flatly.

JJ wasn’t sure what to say to that, so she turned her attention to the pages.

“Here,” she started after reading through the first few pages, pointing at a line on the printouts. “You used the word ‘extensive’. While it is technically true from the law enforcement point of view, the public might get the wrong impression--”

Emily leaned forward and took a glance. “JJ, you are the most pedantic person I know,” she said, sounding amused. “And I know someone named Spencer Reid…”

“Um…I--” JJ fidgeted.

“I’m only teasing,” Emily grinned. “You made a good point. Please continue. I always trust your judgment on how to handle the media.” There was great solemnity in the way she delivered the last sentence. JJ looked up and caught Emily’s eyes falling on her; she almost stopped breathing.

JJ cleared her throat, her cheeks burning. “Hmm -- Let me do this in front of a computer so I can pull up some references.” She scrambled to her feet, avoiding looking in Emily’s direction again.

It took JJ half an hour to go through the report and scribble down editing suggestions. The need to cool herself down had successfully chased any thoughts other than reading and editing out of her mind. She didn’t even notice how quiet the room had been. When she finally looked up, Emily was curling up on the sofa, fast asleep; her lips slightly opened.

The scene was so unusually adorable; JJ felt herself tensing up with inexplicable emotions as she tiptoed towards the sofa and laid down the folder on the coffee table.

Emily snapped her eyes open before the folder even touched the table. Just in that a split second, she seemed bewildered and wary. Then her eyes found JJ’s, and her entire posture softened. Her lips pursed slightly as if she was pouting about her interrupted sleep.

JJ watched Emily, feeling her heart melt in her chest.

“You can come here to take a nap at any time,” she blurted.

Her words seemed to alert Emily, who started to push herself off the sofa, sleepiness disappeared from her posture.

JJ quickly decided to sidetrack the conversation with a joke, before Emily went to great lengths to assure her that she was fine and didn’t need any favors.

“No need to use a ruse, you know--” she put on a wide smile, waving the folder in her hand.

Emily blushed and groaned, but was visibly more relaxed. With a scowl that seemed to be an amused embarrassment, she pulled the folder out of JJ’s hand and playfully swatted at JJ’s legs with it.

JJ shrieked with laughter as she tried and failed to dodge the swinging folder. It was the best she had felt in a very long time.

The next day, JJ brought in a pillow and a blanket from home.

Emily didn’t show up.

Two days later, JJ pushed through her office door a little after 1:30 p.m. As always, the cross-division meeting overran past lunchtime, after endless debate over some red tape.

Through the soft light from the hallway, she saw someone occupying the sofa. 

The frown she had been wearing since about halfway through the meeting dissipated. JJ’s heart fluttered with hope.

She slipped out of her heels at the door silently, and tiptoed her way inside.

On the coffee table was a full platter of sandwiches so gorgeous that they might as well be some props for a photo shoot. Two clean paper plates and a stack of napkins lay next to it.

Emily was sleeping, tucking her body into one corner of the sofa. She was clutching a corner of JJ’s blanket in both hands, pulling it close to her cheeks. The other end of the blanket was draped over the sofa, almost falling onto the floor.

JJ leaned over and adjusted the blanket. Emily stirred; her eyes cracked open groggily.

“Hey,” she murmured. Her face crunched up into an expression halfway between a smile and a pout as she pushed herself upright. “you are back.”

JJ’s heart dissolved into a warm puddle.

“Hey,” she greeted the older agent softly, picking up the blanket that had now fallen onto the floor. “Have you been waiting for me?” JJ asked, tilting her head at the sandwiches. “You shouldn’t have--”

“Just thought I’d stop by and drop these off.” With sleepiness lingering in her voice, Emily pressed her palms over her face and took a deep breath. When she looked back up, her eyes were once again bright and focused. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“No no, don’t get me wrong. I’m very grateful for the company,” JJ said immediately. “I’m famished. How do you know I haven’t eaten?”

Emily smirked. Mischievous sparkles adorned her eyes. It made JJ shiver.

“Ah, Garcia?” JJ had to swallow hard to make a sound.

Emily blinked at her affirmatively, and JJ laughed. Then she remembered the cryptic conversation Garcia had had with her, about Emily, and felt her skin flaming. She wondered if her technical analyst friend had made a similar speech to Emily, whose expression right now certainly wasn’t revealing anything.

Emily sat quietly and let JJ fix her a plate of sandwiches and a cup of coffee.

“I am sorry that I snapped at you the other day,” she spoke up suddenly when JJ was in the middle of carrying over a stool for her to leave her cup.

“Huh?” JJ turned to look at her, surprised.

Emily was staring at JJ straight in the eye, her lips pinching into a stoic thin line.

It took another few seconds for JJ to realize Emily was referring to what had happened on her first day back in the office. Although JJ wouldn’t describe it as “Emily snapped at her” at all -- it was a rare moment when Emily let her frustration seep through her usually impeccable manner.

JJ shrugged and feigned confusion. “Did you? I don’t even remember--”

Emily’s pointed glare told JJ that the older agent didn’t buy it for a second. She set her jaws as she confessed. “It was my first day back, and I was nervous. I didn’t want to seem less competent because…” Emily faltered, her fingers curling up with tension. “…because I was tortured…” The way she forced out the last few words slowly made each syllable a heavy blow to JJ’s heart.

JJ reached for Emily but stopped herself in mid-air, afraid to spook her.

It was Emily who took JJ’s hand. “I let my insecurity get to me,” she said solemnly. “I am sorry.”

JJ cupped Emily’s cool hand in hers -- Emily’s fingers seemed unable to be kept warm nowadays -- and sat down next to her. “It’s okay,” she soothed. “I understand. You are not feeling well.” -- which would be the understatement of the year, but JJ could not bring herself to say the brutal words, torture, abduction ….

Emily locked her eyes on JJ. She appeared to be thoughtful, like she was evaluating, hesitating -- fight or flight.

“I’m exhausted,” she admitted finally.

Her candidness took JJ slightly by surprise. She patted the back of Emily’s hand sympathetically. She could see that from the last few days, and was just happy that Emily was willing to acknowledge it too. As much as Emily tried to hide it from the world, she hadn’t been able to hold it all in at the end of the day when she joined JJ in the car. JJ had witnessed it again and again when Emily was clearly too tired to manage even a genuine smile.

“I know,” JJ said, hoping the acknowledgment encouraged Emily to continue.

Emily sighed. “…I sat at my desk for not even three hours this morning, and I felt so exhausted that I couldn’t keep my eyes open. It’s ridiculous.”

“You return to work after only a week of medical leave.” JJ reminded her softly. “You are remarkable.”

Emily looked uneasy. JJ pressed on, “You have to allow yourself more time to heal.”

“I know you are right--”

“I meant it when I said that you could come and use this sofa at any time--” JJ said eagerly. She had a feeling that Emily would be more receptive this time around. “If there is any visitor, I’ll book a meeting room. It will be nice and quiet in here.”

Emily pinched her lips as if she was going to object. But then she peered at JJ. JJ held her breath and smiled back encouragingly.

Emily swallowed. “Thanks,” she said, her voice brittle.

Emily appeared to have taken JJ up on her offer. Well, partially. She came around as a guest on the sofa almost every day now, usually with a nice lunch. However, Emily still seemed to be hesitant about lying down and taking a nap. If they weren’t chatting, JJ would often catch Emily leaning against the sofa, shutting her eyes, while JJ herself was tied up in some administrative work. The few times Emily did fall asleep were either late mornings or early afternoons, when she came in quietly, evidently too exhausted to get through the half-day, and slipped out afterward with minimal pleasantry exchanged. JJ tried not to remark on those occasions and instead pretended that she wasn’t paying attention to Emily’s come-and-goes. Emily seemed to appreciate it. Besides, it had never felt awkward to JJ, being in silence with Emily.

JJ’s meeting had overrun, again. By the time she returned to her office, Emily had already finished eating, which was why she decided to devour her own lunch with one hand while typing up the minutes with the other.

“Do you always feel like you can’t stop?”

JJ stopped herself from taking another bite of her sandwich and looked to the side where Emily was standing.

Somehow, JJ immediately knew what Emily was talking about. Feeling her heart skipping a beat, JJ didn’t manage to react before Emily repeated the question gently:

“You are always working. I am just wondering, do you feel like you have no other choice?”

JJ swallowed. “Are you profiling me?” she forced out a laugh.

“No,” Emily said quickly, but then hesitated. “Maybe a little.” She lay one hand on JJ’s shoulder. “Is that okay?” she asked.

“Sure,” JJ mumbled. The idea of being Emily’s subject of interest was sending a thrill through her body. It was short-lived though, and she soon became self-conscious and started to process it rationally. She supposed she couldn’t deny the amount of psychoanalysis she had done trying to figure out the best way to support Emily. It was only fair that Emily was permitted to do the same.

“Do you remember the first time you felt this way?” Emily asked gently.

JJ breathed in and out. “No,” she said in a small voice. That wasn’t a hard question, and she did see Emily as a safe space. Nevertheless, she was embarrassed talking about her past. “I remember wanting to get out of my hometown as a kid. Nobody supported that. And I knew the only things I could rely on were my grades and my sports.” She kept her focus on the keyboard and avoided taking in Emily’s reaction. “I didn’t know what I wanted to do or where I wanted to be. I don’t think I particularly cared.” She let out a bitter chuckle. “I guess my instinct told me if I worked a bit harder, got a bit better -- at anything really -- I would get a bit more chance.”

There was a moment of silence, which felt like an eternity.

“What is it like?”

JJ turned to look at Emily, half amused by and half relieved at the unexpected yet vague question. “Like flying,” she answered mysteriously.

“Like flying?” Emily blinked at her, but she was smiling encouragingly.

“Like how I imagine flying is like,” JJ blushed. “You know those stories about the birds that fly across the ocean and cannot land midway through--” It was a metaphor she had thought about a lot, but it sounded a little melodramatic now that she was saying loud out.

Emily’s eyes on her melted into such tenderness. “You just wanted to survive,” she said.

“Survive,” JJ parroted, letting the syllables roll over her tongue. “That’s a bit dramatic,” she laughed awkwardly. “I was okay -- two-parent household, provided-for, safe…”

“Doesn’t mean it wasn’t hard for you…Small town, full-ride sports scholarship. That must be so difficult.” Emily squeezed her upper arm. JJ couldn’t help but lean into the touch. “ I don’t know how you managed it. I don’t think I would have achieved as much as you did, had I not born to an Ambassador.”

“You don’t know that,” JJ was quick to argue back, because she hated when Emily beat herself up for her privileged upbringing. “And it wasn’t a competition.”

“I could say the same to you, Jayje,” Emily looked at her knowingly, her smile stiffened ever so slightly. “It isn’t easy to actually feel it, is it?”

No, I suppose not. JJ mused. She got what Emily was trying to say, that they each had something that they couldn’t let go of, that such ideas had been so internalized that they couldn’t be reasoned with.

And she thought it was a fair point. She couldn’t shake the feeling she should’ve done better, after every soccer game as a young girl, after every case presentation in front of the BAU team, and after that fateful afternoon when she could have returned home right after school but didn’t, only to find Ros lying in the bathtub when she finally did.

JJ took a deep breath. The feeling was nothing new. She was adept at snapping out of it when there was work to do. But in her downtime, it was much attempting to allow herself to wallow in it. This wasn’t the time and place to let that happen though. Emily was watching, with growing concern as JJ stayed quiet.

“Jayje--”

She replayed their conversation in her head, searching for any talking point she could roll back to.

“Is it awful that I kind of enjoyed what you said?” She shifted in her chair and peered at Emily sheepishly. “About how I ‘managed it’…”

“No, not at all,” Emily smiled. “I think you needed the validation -- someone to say you’ve done well. As much as it is not a competition, a different perspective helps.”

“Say it again,” JJ whispered, mesmerized.

“I don’t think I’d achieve half as much if I were in your shoes,” Emily obliged happily. “You are incredible, Jayje.”

Emily’s voice was soft and warm like a cocoon, and JJ felt the bone-weary exhaustion creeping up on her.  She suddenly became acutely aware of the pain in her wrists after hours over a keyboard. She blinked hard to shake off the urge to slump against Emily. “You know what -- I think you are probably right,” she quipped.

“Hey! That’s mean.” Emily pouted, but the glint in her eyes indicated the joke had landed well with her. “I have a few tricks up my sleeves too, you know. I bet I would have turned out fine,” she retorted with a grin.

“I know you would,” said JJ in earnest. It felt disingenuous to carry on babbling about how much she had admired the older agent in the field, how much she had been in awe of how Emily handled herself in the bleakest situation, so she swallowed it back down.

“Thank you, Jayje,” Emily said. She let out a small smile, in a way that suggested she knew and appreciated all the words JJ had left unsaid.

They fell into silence after that. It was like a withdrawal symptom after a loaded discussion. Emily wandered back to the sofa, and JJ studied her half-eaten sandwich, wondering if forcing it down her knotted stomach was worth the effort. Or, she could find something to say -- it wasn’t difficult if she needed it for her job, but this was Emily, and every conversation she had had with Emily held a special place in her memory.

On the sofa, Emily was neatly folding up the food packaging she had brought in. “Well, thanks for the lunch together Jayje,” she said pleasantly. “-- I should let you get back to work.”

“Why do you call me that?” JJ interjected bluntly.

“Call you what?” Emily stopped, puzzled. “‘Jayje’?”

“Yeah. That.”

Only Emily would say her name like that -- shortened to one syllable, with a light, plosive ‘g’ sound dancing at the end. And Emily only did it when nobody else was within earshot.

“I think it suits you,” Emily said mildly. Then her face turned thoughtful and she seemed cautious when she continued to speak. “And the name ‘Jenny’ made you flinch.”

Apparently it still did.

JJ pulled her blazer tighter around herself and waited for the tremors in her stomach to settle down. She was still known as Jenny in her hometown to this day, and everything that had happened there was intertwined with that name.

“Childhood name. Too much history to it,” she acknowledged it evasively with a shrug, avoiding giving out any specifics.

There was a hint of sadness in Emily’s brown, expressive eyes, and for a brief moment, JJ thought she knew.

But that was not possible, because she had personally made sure that part of her history was not disclosed to BAU, not even to Hotch. And for the first time, the idea didn’t bring JJ relief, but a sense of disappointment.

“How about you? What was little Emily called?” JJ asked, hoping to shift the focus of the conversation back to Emily.

Whatever was going through Emily’s mind, she didn’t press on. “My mother doesn’t believe in nicknames,” she replied dryly.

JJ found herself chuckling. “That sounds like her, even only based on the little you’ve told me.”

“Yeah. She is a woman with strong characteristics,” Emily said rather diplomatically.

“So how about now?” JJ asked. They did have teammates who were exceptional inventors of nicknames. Although that sort of thing did take time and familiarity, and Emily was still a relatively new member of the team, JJ was pretty sure Garcia had already started using her creativity when addressing the dark-haired agent.

“I wouldn’t say I am a fan of all of them. But I get it; they are sweet.” Emily answered thoughtfully. Then she grinned. “Why do you ask?” She wet the edge of her lip with her tongue, making it all plump and shiny as she chirped. “You have anything in mind for me?” Her big, sparking eyes locked onto JJ’s.

That was… flirting… right? JJ thought to herself numbly, feeling her skin burning up. She summoned up all her bravado to tease back before she had a chance to overanalyze it. “No, but I’m sure I can think of something good.”

Before Emily could react, the corded telephone on JJ’s desk rang. And nothing that got directed to JJ’s office phone number had even been light-hearted or casual. JJ winced and gave Emily an apologetic smile.

Emily nodded. “I’ll leave you to it.”

They stood up in unison, with JJ hurried towards the phone, and Emily wiping her hands and preparing to leave.

Lifting the speaker to one ear, JJ casually looked in the direction of Emily, who turned around at the door, and mouthed soundlessly something suspiciously close to “I’ll be eagerly waiting”, before closing the door behind her.

What the…JJ stared, and stared some more, completely blanking everything out, until the impatient voice at the other end of the phone dragged her back to reality.

The mountains of folders on JJ’s desk usually reached their maximum height around the end of the month. This time however, her office was rescued from its chaotic phase by Emily, who sorted the folders into different piles and stored them away sometimes when she came around.

“You don’t have to do this,” JJ looked at Emily from her keyboard.

“No?” Emily tilted her head and snorted, “This pile has got so tall. Can you even see the door from where you sit?”

JJ examined the stack of documents Emily was pointing at. “Point taken,” she conceded.

She flashed Emily a grateful smile and returned to the email on her computer screen. In the background, Emily continued flipping through the printed files, producing a soothing crisp white noise.

JJ only managed to type out another two paragraphs when she realized the white noise had disappeared.

She looked around and found Emily frozen in place, glaring at the folder on top of the stack. Following the gaze of those dark pupils, JJ saw the bold black letters printed on the brown kraft paper -- B. EVANS.

Emily reached out and traced the edge of the folder tentatively with her fingers. JJ launched forward and pinned down the folder underneath her palm before Emily could do anything else.

“Don’t--” JJ warned.

Emily’s fingers wrapped around the folder. She turned her head sharply and looked JJ dead in the eye. “Why not?” she demanded, her lips pinching into a thin line, and her eyes flaring up dangerously. “Do I not have adequate clearance?”

It was a rhetorical question. JJ felt she had no choice but to let go.

Emily snatched the folder. Her face remained a blank grey slate as she walked away and lay down on the sofa without a word.

JJ watched Emily open the folder and balance it vertically on her chest. From where JJ sat, most of Emily’s upper body was hidden by the upright folder.

Feeling that she was not supposed to pry without explicit permission, JJ looked away reluctantly.

For the next few minutes, the only sound audible was the pages turning. JJ knew Emily would want her to get back to work, but she couldn’t just start typing and risk having the sound of the keyboard drown out any sign of --

“I didn’t.”

Emily’s voice was low, but it cut through the air in the room like a knife.

JJ’s head shot up.

“What?” she asked warily.

“…the evidence above suggests that all the victims eventually cooperated and played along with Evans’ fantasy…” Emily read out the report in her hand, with a rare venomous tone of voice that startled JJ.

 “Everyone has their limit, Em,” JJ rushed to placate her, almost out of reflex.

Emily fell silent. JJ’s heart started thumping loudly out of nowhere, so much so that she almost missed the barely audible mutter:

“I didn’t.”

Brows furrowing, JJ was about to ask what Emily was talking about, but stopped in her tracks.

Many things came to her at once. Like the only reason why they were able to catch Evans was because, very uncharacteristically, he had struck again only two days after abducting Emily. And he had been deranged and sloppy, clearly unprepared when he attacked the new victim. And the level of torture Emily had endured was significantly severer than the other victims of Evans’, which indicated an escalation.

JJ jolted out of her chair, her head ringing. She remembered the thick padlock that had locked Emily away. Evans’ M.O. was that he would abandon the previous victim, leaving her alone in her cell to die, before searching for his next target.

Emily was the reason why Evans had changed his M.O., the reason why he had made a mistake and got caught.

“Oh god, Emily…” JJ gasped.

That day, not that long ago, trapped in the dark, damp cellar with a sadistic killer, Emily had taken a gamble on life-or-death, when the only weapon she had were her profiling skills and her own body.

JJ hurried towards the sofa. Emily’s face was hidden behind the case report folder.

JJ gently tugged on the folder, which Emily let go of without a fight. However, she immediately folded her arms in front of her face. Tears were flowing out from underneath, running over her cheeks. Her mouth opened slightly, and her body was trembling, but she didn’t make a sound.

“Em…” JJ murmured. She patted Emily’s arms, but Emily stubbornly wouldn’t budge.

Stomach seizing up painfully, JJ perched herself on the strip of empty space available beside Emily, balancing her weight between one foot on the floor and one arm against the armrest.

Emily tensed up next to her. For a long moment, they shared the narrow depth of the sofa, with JJ carefully avoiding squashing Emily and feeling her muscles scream in protest. Finally, Emily shifted sideways and pressed her body into the back of the sofa, making more room for JJ.

JJ scooted closer, her arm stretching protectively above Emily’s head. She couldn’t find anything to say. The only sound in the room was Emily’s breathing, inhales and exhales carefully drawn out through the mouth to disguise the tears.

An eternity later, Emily’s posture softened. She put her arms down and rolled to her side, refusing to look in JJ’s direction the whole time. With a sigh of relief, JJ wrapped her arm around Emily’s shoulders and coaxed her to bury her face in JJ’s shirt.

Emily’s breath hitched and she made a sound between surprise and indignance, but she eventually settled. “…I didn’t give him the satisfaction,” she whispered shakily after a few silent seconds. “I didn’t make a sound…H-he didn’t like that…”

-- which was part of the self-rescue attempt, to agitate the Unsub, to throw him off his feet. Still, the implication chilled JJ to the bones.

JJ felt her shirt drenched with hot tears. Her heart broke into a million pieces. She hugged Emily tightly, threaded her fingers through Emily’s messy dark curls and felt the tremors under her fingertips. “You did so well. You were so brave--” she mumbled into Emily’s hair.

Emily didn’t respond. She seemed to be channeling all her energy to focus on controlling her breathing, which was so successful that it barely sounded like she was crying.

They stayed like that for a while, until Emily looked up at her with puffy eyes. She managed to tilt her lips upward a little before wiping her face haphazardly.

“I’m fine,” she said, sniffling quietly.

JJ decided in that split second that she wouldn’t let this one go. Instead of going along with it like before, JJ said pointedly, “You are not, but that’s okay.” She dabbed away the tears rolling down Emily’s cheek with the pad of her finger. “It’s okay. Don’t hold it in,” she encouraged gently. “I’ve got you.”

Emily tried to force out a strangled protest, but it only caused more fresh tears to spill out. She hid her face in JJ’s shirt again, visibly embarrassed.

“I can’t imagine how much pain you were in,” JJ murmured. “You must’ve been so scared.” It was a dicey choice of words, and JJ would understand if Emily took it as patronization and got angry. If Emily needed to lash out, if it gave her an outlet, then so be it.

But Emily didn’t say anything. Her body went rigid for a moment, before she clutched at JJ’s shirt and held it in a tight fist. Then the first sob broke loose. Tears were pouring out, and then came the sobs, hitched, loud, and shattered, waves after waves; the like she had never seen from Emily before, as if it had been pent-up for a lifetime.

JJ thought she was mentally prepared for this, but she wasn’t. Seeing Emily, the stoic, seemingly invincible woman, broke down; not just seeing it, but also feeling it with every fiber of her muscles, hearing it pounding against her eardrums, it was like being thrown over a cliff.

Choking back the rising panic in her chest, JJ turned over slightly, tucking Emily’s head under her own chin. She stroked Emily’s hair until the heart-wrenching cry quietened down.

“It hurts,” Emily croaked.

JJ was immediately on alert, “Where? What’s wrong?” She sat up as much as she could with Emily’s body draping over hers, and tried to check for any sign of injuries.

Emily didn’t answer. She just kept pressing her body against JJ’s, without showing any obvious sign of physical discomfort.

Then JJ realized that Emily might have been speaking figuratively.

JJ gritted her teeth, frustrated that she was powerless in stopping it.

Helplessly, she lay back down and re-adjusted her pose so Emily could be more comfortable.

“I know. I know,” she soothed, feeling on the verge of tears herself. “I’m so sorry, Em. It will get better.” She paused, unsatisfied with the lack of gravitas in those words. She bit her tongue, momentarily letting go of all her insecurity, because the ache she felt for Emily was much greater. “I will make it better. Whatever you need. I promise…” she hummed.

Emily did lift her head at that, her eyes landing on JJ’s face. Tears were still seeping through her thick dark lashes and flowing over her pale cheeks. She just kept staring, blinking away tears, and then staring again, without a word.

The moment was ended abruptly by a series of bangs. Someone was knocking on the door.

Emily flinched. She looked down and burrowed into JJ further.

Touching Emily’s back with one hand reassuringly, JJ wrapped her other arm around Emily’s head and subtly covered the older agent’s ears. Satisfied that her gestures seemed to have calmed Emily down further, JJ bellowed, “Who is it?”

“It’s me. Spencer.”

“I’m in the middle of something, Spence,” JJ shouted back, hoping she sounded convincing. “Let me get back to you when I’m free --”

She felt Emily wiggle out of her arm, and saw a pair of wet brown eyes looking up at her. They both held their breaths as the footsteps disappeared into the distance.

“That doesn’t sound suspicious at all…” Emily sniffled when they were alone again, giving JJ a teary chuckle.

Much later, when she got home, JJ would think back and find Emily’s remark almost suggestive. She would even freak out a little, unsure what to make of it, together with all the other tiny new changes in her life. But right now, with Emily snuggling her, looking up at her with a teary smile, JJ felt elated, like she was at the top of the world. She grinned --

“I liaise with the chiefs and the media, Em. There is suspicious stuff happening on this sofa all the time.”

Chapter Text

After being off the roster for five weeks because of the Evans case, the team was finally given an out-of-state assignment to assist the local law enforcement.

There was a general excitement bubbling in the bullpen. Duffel bags were freshly packed and stacked up by the desks. Everyone—including Emily—had grown stir-crazy from being kept off the field for so long, though to varying degrees. After all, they all stayed in this profession for a reason, despite the danger and the long unpredictable hours.

As usual, JJ slipped onto the jet a few minutes earlier than the rest of the team to complete some travel preparations.

She had always enjoyed anticipating the team’s needs and arranging everything in solitude. Yet now, with Emily aware she was the one behind the snacks, there was also a nervous energy hanging in the air.

She fanned out the pastries on the counter in the galley, and nearly jumped when Morgan appeared behind her.

“Aww, donuts!” Morgan exclaimed. And, without missing a beat, he added, “Prentiss is your favorite, isn’t she?”

JJ could feel her blood rushing to her head. However Morgan didn’t look malicious.

“All of you are my favorites,” she protested faintly. She picked up a lemon muffin and chucked it at Morgan. “You always go for the lemon muffin, don’t you?”

Morgan grinned as he caught the muffin in one hand like a baseball. JJ rolled her eyes.

“Fair enough,” he said, peeling back the wrapping paper around the muffin. “Thanks,” his words jumbled as he took a large bite. “But you are definitely her favorite.”

“What?” JJ almost choked.

Morgan looked behind himself towards the cabin and lowered his voice with a smirk. “Check the cabinet.”

He leaned over, took a bag of nuts from the tray and waltzed off, leaving JJ gaping at him.

When the galley was fully quiet again, JJ reached for the cabinet door, her heart racing.

She pulled the door open. The sight in front of her made her smile.

-- Neatly tucked away at the back of the shelf was a multi-pack box of Cheetos.

The team was at an after-event party. The “event” was a conference held by some industry association; the “party” ended up being small plates of salty snacks on a cocktail table, and one bar with a long queue. Fancy in theory, tragic in practice.

And as it turned out, this audience wasn’t super interested in the BAU as soon as their curiosity had been satisfied. And, apart from Hotch, the team was largely left alone at the party. That was how they ended up around the same table, sipping drinks and chatting casually among themselves.

“You didn’t have much for lunch. And alcohol isn’t great on an empty stomach,” JJ said with a slight frown of concern, watching Emily return with another bottle of beer. “Maybe you could have some of these crackers. They’re not too bad.”

“Prentiss never picks up salty snacks in public,” Reid commented nonchalantly, before Emily could react.

The whole table turned towards him, and then Emily.

Emily cleared her throat. “It’s just so greasy and grainy.” She glanced around the table, suddenly appearing almost sheepish.

“Prentiss here eats Doritos with a knife and fork,” Morgan teased.

“If this ‘Doritos’ thing looks like that,” Emily pointed at the plate of potato chips and rolled her eyes. “--then I’ll use a napkin, thank you very much.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Please tell me you’re joking.” Morgan said, giving a suspicious look, while Garcia exclaimed, looking genuinely concerned, “Oh doll, you’ve never had Doritos? Doritos are the best.”

Emily merely shrugged at both comments.

“Umm research shows that Oreo is currently the most consumed snack in America,” Reid interjected.

JJ snickered quietly into her wine glass. Morgan rolled his eyes. “Only you would know Oreo sales numbers, genius. Normal people just eat the stuff. Let’s ask someone sane. JJ, favorite snack?”

“Cheetos,” JJ said absently, as she picked up one nut-shaped piece from the snack dish, and examined it suspiciously before popping it into her mouth.

Emily’s curious eyes fell on her. JJ smiled back. “It’s cheesy, puffy sticks,” she explained to the older agent.

Garcia grinned. “Girl’s night at my place next time,” she announced excitedly. “I’ll buy one of each snack from the supermarket so that Emily can try them.”

Reid inclined his head, as if agreeing that it was a sensible course of action, apparently oblivious that it was a joke. Morgan snorted.

Emily groaned. “Thanks, but no thanks,” she replied dryly and wiped her fingers on the napkin in an exaggerated manner, though her eyes were filled with amusement.

It was one of those cases again -- men preying on women. JJ had hated how often it happened. She hated it even more now that it was hitting closer to home.

But Emily seemed unfazed. She threw herself into the case, with insight, diligence, and a healthy dose of anger at the unsub, like she always did. She still grumbled every time the coffee available at the local precinct was particularly nasty, and she still forgot about her meals, and instead let the case files consume her completely.

When JJ set the takeaway box beside her, Emily thanked her with the same easy smile as before. But something felt different this time. Maybe it was the way Emily’s eyes sparkled when they met JJ’s, the way they lingered on her. Or maybe it was the faint frown beneath her smile, the one that made JJ’s chest tighten like never before.

Three days in, and they still hadn’t found the unsub, although they did spot some guy named “Cobra”, a local male who ran a pick-up artist course.

“This guy is training serial killers,” Morgan groaned as he and the field team joined JJ at the table. He, Hotch, and Emily had just come back from meeting Cobra at a local club.

“Not the first one. Won’t be the last,” Hotch acknowledged flatly. “Now, let’s go over our interaction with him.”

Reid started recounting the conversation between the field team and Cobra, while Emily and Morgan made comments here and there. Fervently knocking on the keyboard was Garcia, who had dialed in from Quantico and was taking notes.

“...He actually said that? To Prentiss?” Garcia interrupted Reid, who had just finished describing Cobra’s disturbing comment --

“…meet me on my turf. Oh, the things I could make you do…”

JJ turned to Emily instinctively, searching for a flicker of discomfort, but Emily’s face betrayed nothing. From across the table, Hotch confirmed with a curt “Yes”.

“That was the end of our interaction with Cobra,” Hotch continued, clearly not wishing to dwell on the subject. “Now, Garcia, what can you tell us about him?”

They were sending in Emily.

JJ had just spent two hours dealing with the press, and that was the first thing she heard when she walked back to the local precinct.

Morgan was the one who pulled her aside and relayed the situation to her.

“The unsub learned his ruse from Cobra’s class. We need to profile the teacher, study his style up close and personal,” he said. “Cobra already sees Emily as a challenge. She would get the most out of him.”

JJ was touched that Morgan thought to keep her in the loop. And she tried very hard not to wonder why Morgan felt the need to do so.

And JJ had no idea what to do with this piece of information. She should check on Emily. But she didn’t want Emily to think she was doubting her -- this was Emily’s first case after her medical leave; concerns were thick in the air. On the other hand, she hated to think Emily was fighting a battle all by herself.

This was why she was surprised -- and immensely pleased -- when Hotch sought her out. “I think you should go with Prentiss this evening,” the unit chief said. “It’s a good opportunity for you to gain more field experience.”

“Sure,” JJ kept her expression neutral and nodded. She was about to ask for more details, but Hotch carried on--

“Prentiss is in the changing room getting ready. You should go now. She will debrief you.”

Two minutes later, JJ was knocking on the changing room door.

“Come in.”

Hearing Emily’s voice, JJ opened the door and let herself in. The sight in front of her made all thoughts evaporate from her brain for a moment.

Emily was wearing a white blouse and a bright red skirt with an eye-catching ruffle hem. Her lips were a shade matching her skirt. JJ realized right there and then that red was the perfect color for Emily. It accentuated her skin tone and brought a glow to all her features, like dewdrops on roses -- a velvety yet thorny rose. And somehow Emily also managed to find the time to curl her hair, which was now hugging her face in a daring fashion.

She swept her eyes up and down JJ. “This won’t do. You need some clubbing outfits.”

“I didn’t pack any,” JJ said. Her role, even in the field, was predominantly public-facing, and therefore she always packed for business casual. “Wait, did you? Where did you get these?”

“Always have a few outfits in my go-bag,” Emily grinned. “It’s handy for blending into an environment when you need to. People judge by appearance first and foremost.” She turned to her locker and took out a silky black dress. “Try this one,” she handed the dress to JJ. “I packed this one but I forgot it has a--” She stopped herself abruptly, and bit down on her lip. “…It suits you better,” she muttered.

The dress was simple and elegant, and extremely low-cut in the back. JJ touched the soft fabric of the dress, feeling a deep sense of disappointment that she didn’t get to see Emily in it.

Emily turned away to give her some privacy to change. JJ located an empty locker and started piling her things into it.

“The two of us will visit the nightclub Cobra brings his class to in the evening,” Emily said from behind.

“Like a practice session,” JJ mumbled to herself. The idea made her skin crawl.

“Yes, something like that,” said Emily with a bitter smile. “Cobra will likely be more susceptible to provocations in front of his students. We need to take advantage of that.”

“Have we ruled him out as the unsub?” JJ asked as she slipped the dress on.

“The unsub’s signature shows that he needs compulsive cleaning to feel he’s in control. Cobra, on the other hand,” Emily scoffed, “--is someone who believes he always has control.”

JJ nodded. “What do I need to do?” she asked, fiddling absentmindedly with the shoulder ruffles.

“He knows who we are and that we are there to check him out,” Emily began slowly and thoughtfully. “There is no point in pretending otherwise. But Cobra will also see us as two women out there looking for fun -- I doubt he is capable of viewing women in clubs in any other way -- and that is the role we will play. He will want to strike up a conversation. Seeing that there are two of us, he will probably want to drive a wedge between us, pit us against each other.” She smiled at JJ, ridiculing the very notion without a word. “On that note, it would be more effective if he doesn’t notice us both at the same time. I will lead the conversation. Whatever Cobra says, dismiss him. Keep your focus on me.”

JJ, who was captivated by the skill and the confidence shown in Emily’s analysis, whipped her head around at the very last sentence. She looked at Emily and caught the older agent smiling at her. JJ’s heart rate rocketed.

“…It will throw him off his balance. Cobra needs attention. He will give up some information just to get that back.” Emily carried on, and then paused. “…May I?” she asked, gesturing toward JJ.

JJ nodded numbly. She felt Emily take a step closer; her fingers brushing over JJ’s bare skin as the older agent rearranged the fabric of the dress and smoothed out the creases.

“You look gorgeous, Jayje.” Emily’s voice was bright, resonant.

“T-Thank you,” JJ stuttered, feeling heat in her cheeks again. “Y-you do too.”

She regretted not saying that the moment she stepped into the changing room. It didn’t carry nearly the same gravitas now.

“Thanks,” Emily responded gracefully. She suddenly sounded more reserved now.

“…Emily,” JJ ventured. She tilted her head so she could read Emily’s reaction properly. “You are okay with this, right?”

Emily’s shoulders slumped very slightly, but her face seemed genuinely calm.

“Yes,” she looked into JJ’s eyes and answered solemnly. Then her lips curled into a sarcastic smile. “Believe it or not, I’ve actually dated guys worse than Cobra.”

“Only guys?” The words slipped out before JJ could think twice.

For a heartbeat, she wished she could pull them back—but maybe she didn’t. The question had been pressing at her for weeks, and the silence between them suddenly felt like the only chance she’d get.

She almost lost the courage to hold eye contact, but Emily’s eyes stayed on hers, steady, unflinching. “Well,” she said at last, a wry smile tugging at her lips, “I’ve had better luck with women.”

There was lightness in her tone, but something in her gaze ran deeper—something JJ wasn’t sure she was ready to name.

JJ gulped. Then the rush of relief turned into guilt. They were about to go undercover. And Emily hadn’t been in a good place. This was the worst possible time to feel… delighted. Instead, it seemed much more appropriate to pretend that last round of Q&A had never taken place.

She forced her gaze down, pretending to fuss with her earrings until the silence stretched long enough to breathe again.

“I’ll have your back,” she said finally, her voice steadier than she felt.

It came out more like a reassurance to herself than to Emily, because before her words had even faded, Emily was already concealing weapons beneath her skimpy party outfit.

JJ fidgeted and let out an embarrassed laugh. She fumbled to copy her, feeling overwhelmingly underqualified to fulfill her promise.

Emily looked at her. She finished gearing up and crouched in front of JJ, helping her with finding all the hidden compartments in her dress and boots.

Emily took JJ’s twitching fingers in her hand. “I couldn’t have asked for a better partner for this,” she said.

And JJ believed her.

JJ entered the club five minutes after Emily. The club was buzzing. She quickly spotted Cobra at the back of the club, surrounded by a few men -- his students, probably. Then she located Emily as well, who had picked a table on the edge of Cobra’s eye line.

The idea was to make Cobra think Emily was on her own -- single, isolated, easy prey. They would allow him to have enough time to talk, to show off all his tricks, thinking he had the fish on the hook, then JJ would show up.

JJ’s job before that would be to blend in and stay close, tracking the progress of the conversation and waiting for the right moment to strike.

JJ went to get two drinks for Emily and herself -- a subtle sign that they were on the same side, meant to challenge Cobra’s ego and provoke his urge to conquer.

She was lucky that the nightclub’s stalls gave her cover. It was easy to find a table where she went unnoticed in the tipsy crowd, despite sitting by herself holding two identical drinks. And she could see Emily through the reflection in the mirrored wall opposite her.

As they predicted, Cobra was tempted the moment he noticed Emily’s presence. JJ watched as Cobra waltzed towards Emily, under the watchful eyes of his students, like a peacock flaunting his feathers. Emily curved her lips into a careful smile—part law-enforcement formality, part flirtation, part intrigue, and just enough hesitation to bait him.

Cobra stepped into Emily’s space, a glint of unspoken triumph flickering in his eyes. Emily let her gaze dance around, like a deer in the headlights, pretending to struggle to meet Cobra’s eyes, meticulously baiting him.

The two started exchanging words. Their conversation was inaudible from where JJ was, but based on their body language, it was obvious that Cobra thought he was winning.

It was JJ’s time to strike.

“So -- is this the guy you were telling me about?” JJ said as she handed Emily her drink.

Emily beamed at her. Her finger grazed JJ’s as she accepted the glass. Maybe it was accidental; maybe it was intended to antagonize Cobra -- Emily had a talent for shaping the smallest behavioral cues to coax an unsub into view.

“Cobra, meet Agent Jareau, BAU.” Emily made the introduction. Her demeanor suddenly shifted to one of confidence and assertiveness—so much so that Cobra was visibly taken aback. She looked at JJ, with little attempt to hide her smirk. “This is Cobra. God’s gift to women.”

“God sure has a sense of humor,” JJ quipped. She took a purposeful sip from her glass and watched a shadow cross Cobra’s face.

“You brought a friend,” Cobra said darkly.

“You promised if I met you on your turf, you’d show me something special. So, let’s see it,” Emily sing-songed.

JJ tilted her head and caught the tiniest flicker of panic in Cobra’s eyes.

It turned out that Cobra’s special act was quite the cliché. JJ could barely suppress the urge to roll her eyes during the fifteen agonizing seconds she spent staring into Cobra’s eyes, following the man’s instruction. “Eyes don’t lie. They dilate. It’s a chemical reaction,” Cobra had said.

JJ might have given him some credit if he’d actually followed the research the trick came from—though she was grateful she’d been spared the full four minutes of staring and thirty-six personal questions the study prescribed.

“Time’s up,” Emily announced finally, saving JJ from the dreadful exercise.

JJ almost jumped when Emily suddenly leaned in to examine her eyes. “No. No change. No dilation,” Emily remarked.

But all JJ could think about was how much Emily’s lips glistened under the disco lights, in a bold, ripe red. Her perfume was radiating a magical fragrance JJ had never smelled before.

JJ swallowed hard and schooled her face into neutrality as she turned to Cobra. “I guess chemically we are not a match,” she quipped.

Cobra seemed nervous, but he wasn’t about to back down. “Only because you have someone else on your mind,” he said, and JJ’s heart skipped a beat. “…Once that happens, the attraction center in the brain shuts down.”

She glared hard at Cobra as he droned on, hoping desperately that her blushing wasn’t visible.

It was enough to make Cobra turn from her and focus on Emily. “Your turn,” he taunted.

Emily’s gaze lowered as if shy. “No.” She smiled sweetly.

“Are you scared I might be right?” Cobra’s grin was wide and predatory.

“No, Paul. I’m baffled,” Emily snapped her gaze up. Her eyes sparked as she addressed Cobra by his real name. “I cannot figure out what the unsub could have learned from you.”

“What do you mean? He took my look, my words -- everything that makes me successful with the opposite sex...” Cobra started stammering.

Emily tilted her glass, watching the liquid swirl as though Cobra’s theatrics bored her. “So far, Paul, all I’m seeing are parlor tricks. If our unsub really learned from you, then either you’re holding back…” she let the pause bite, “…or he improved on your material.”

“Nobody improves on me. He was just repeating what I’ve already perfected.” Dark fury flashed in Cobra’s eyes. They had him.

JJ leaned forward, resting her elbow on the table. She knew exactly what words would hit home hard, and she delivered them with a smirk, “Then explain this: our unsub can take women home night after night, but you? Not a single one has approached you tonight. He’s already achieved what you never could.”

Cobra’s jaw flexed, and for a moment, he said nothing. Then, with an edge of defensiveness: “I gave him the foundation. What he did wasn’t improvisation—it was my assignment.”

Emily smirked, tilting her head. “Assignment? What kind of homework do you give, Paul?”

Cobra straightened, puffing up like a man about to lecture. “Every student who’s ever taken my class has had one in his life. And the first exercise my students have to complete is to confront their queen bee.”

JJ exchanged a quick glance with Emily. That was the missing piece they were looking for.

They caught the unsub, saving his last victim from the clutches of death. The flight home was filled with an air of triumph. Everyone was smiling. Emily too, although the dark circles around her eyes were visible under the concealer.

It took JJ two trips to the galley, under the guise of retrieving a snack, before she finally caught Emily alone at the back of the plane.

“Hey,” JJ said, setting down the mug of hot tea on the table in front of Emily.

Emily looked up and smiled at her. “Thank you.” She wrapped her hands around the mug, and then patted the seat next to her.

JJ couldn’t help but blush a little. She obeyed wordlessly.

For a moment, she sat there and watched Emily slowly sipping her tea in silence. Her nails looked ragged again.

Probably sensing that JJ was staring, Emily turned towards her. “I’m fine,” she said gently.

JJ blushed deeper. “I wasn’t gonna…” She started to deny that she had any intention to hover, but then clamped her mouth shut.

Emily tilted her head knowingly, but she didn’t press further. She broke into a wide smile when she spotted the bag of Cheetos in JJ’s lap.

“Want some?” JJ offered.

Emily looked hesitant.

“You didn’t try them when you bought them?”

Emily shook her head, almost sheepishly.

JJ laughed – she hadn’t really expected otherwise. She picked out one piece from the bag, and Emily leaned forward and took it directly into her mouth.

The light tug JJ felt when the snack was pulled from between her fingers caused a warm buzz in her chest. She watched Emily chew slowly, her expression perfectly schooled.

“Not a fan?” JJ ventured. Knowing Emily’s palate, she wasn’t really surprised.

Emily didn’t acknowledge or deny. “What do you love about it?” she answered the question with a question instead -- JJ supposed that diplomatic response was second nature to her.

But the question did make JJ wonder.

She examined the plastic packaging in her hand, searching for the memories of holding one as a child. “It was what the local store would sell when I was little…” she started thoughtfully, “...Attainable. Affordable…”

It was the cheap, cheesy taste she remembered from her childhood, surrounded by the roar of tractors and the smell of hay—the last happy time in a family of four. But maybe that was only in her head. If Ros had truly been happy, then she wouldn’t have chosen to leave. If her parents had been truly happy with JJ, then that happiness wouldn’t have ended with Ros.

JJ let out a sigh and forced those thoughts out of her head. “I…” She felt Emily’s eyes on her, quiet and curious. Something about the way Emily looked at her made her drop the joking brush-off she had come up with. “… I thought I had left that town behind, but I guess my subconscious has decided to hang onto it,” she admitted instead.

If that had sounded vague and confusing, Emily didn’t let it show. She just reached out wordlessly and gently patted JJ’s knee.

JJ took a deep breath to keep her leg steady, feeling her heartbeat return to normal, realizing that her revelation hadn’t left her feeling exposed. It felt...all right.

She leaned back and let her mind wander.

“Do you think the unsub had hoped that he would be able to stop...you know...if he killed his ‘queen bee’?” she asked.

The unsub met his ‘queen bee’ when they were both young children. During their only encounter, the girl had been very mean to the unsub, with the unschooled cruelty of a child. And the rest was history.

“Probably,” said Emily gravely. “He was young, lost, wanted to take desperate measures for a solution. It took time to learn that--”

The movement of Emily’s fingers stopped. JJ turned to look at her, and found sad resignation in the pair of brown pupils. “--the past is never dead. It’s not even past.” Emily finished slowly, almost cryptically, her voice elegiac.

JJ swallowed. The generic truth in that statement was obvious – the records of hundreds of thousands of life stories in their case files were the proof of it. The power of personal experience, shaping yet trapping individual lives, was the undercurrent of their laughs and tears, actions of love and hatred. Yet hearing it out loud now, it felt so personal. For her, there were the good days where she felt she had truly left her hometown behind, but there were always more bad days where anything and everything was screaming at her for being alive and well, and running away without looking back.

She looked down. Emily’s fingertips were pale as they lightly pressed into the fabric of her trousers. Then she realized Emily was probably talking from experience, about the past of hers JJ knew, and the ones JJ had no clue of.

She placed her hand over Emily’s; after a short pause, Emily turned her palm upward, weaving their fingers together. There was an unspoken sense of understanding in the air, a solidarity.

The hum of the engines wrapped around them, steady and low.