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JJ sighs, sitting down at her desk. The jet had just landed, bringing them home from Chicago. Just a few hours ago, she had been pulling a child out the trunk of a car. She’s drained, and there’s only one person she wants to talk to.
She spreads out the files on her desk, deciding which piece of paperwork she should deal with first. Just as she puts pen to paper, the phone rings. Her heart immediately starts racing. She tentatively picks it up, hoping, praying she knows who’s on the other end.
“JJ?” It’s Will. She exhales, heart rate coming down. She can’t ignore the slight disappointment at hearing his voice though.
“Yeah, hi. Sorry we just landed.” She pushes a hand through her hair and only just notices the sheen of sweat on the back of her neck. Balancing the phone on her shoulder, she ties her hair back using a hair band she always keeps on her wrist.
“Everything okay?” Will asks. He’s so attentive, so caring. That’s one of the reasons she kept going out with him after their first night together, she’d never met a man who genuinely cared so much for her. It makes her feel safe.
“Just tired. Sorry, I’ve still got a lot of paperwork to do, I’ll probably be a little while yet.” She replies. There’s silence on the other end and she knows he’s disappointed. “Go back to sleep, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Alright, try not to stay there too late. Love you.” He says.
“Love you too.” JJ mutters, but he’s already hung up. She puts the phone back in its cradle and picks up the pen again. Why can’t she be normal?
Normal people aren’t disappointed when their husband rings them. Normal people don’t stay late at the office so it’s too late to have sex with their husband when they get home. Normal people aren’t in love with their best friends. And really, what does she have to be disappointed about? Will is kind, sweet, funny, and he loves her unconditionally. He’s a brilliant father and a great cook. But still, JJ feels… empty. Like there’s a big, gaping hole inside of her. When she was growing up, she assumed this hole was her sister. Ros had been such a huge presence in her life that it was only natural her death made JJ numb. But as time moved on and JJ went to the support groups and therapy sessions, she realised this hole was something different. And as she matured emotionally, it became apparent this hole had been there her whole life. You’d think this would make it easier to handle. You’d be wrong.
JJ’s eyes drifted over the page in front of her but she couldn’t get them to focus. The team has been different recently. Derek’s got a girlfriend now and they seem to be serious. Spencer’s going through a rough patch; he’s been coming round to JJ’s at the weekend, often crying. Although, JJ would be lying if she said she didn’t need these sessions as much as he does. And Henry absolutely loves seeing his Uncle Spence. They all know what’s missing from the team. Even if none of them say it.
There’s always only one person JJ wants to talk to after a difficult case. She knows she has a tendency to clam up, bottle her feelings instead of sharing them. Probably because she’s a people pleaser. She wants everyone to be happy, she doesn’t want to bring them down with her sadness. So most of the time she keeps it to herself. She has opened up to Will before – he makes a safe and comfortable space to do so – but it never feels right. She never feels satisfied after. This case had been a difficult one.
Every time she closes her eyes, she sees that little boy’s face.
“My name is Cameron Patterson. I’m a soldier.”
She thinks about what would have happened if they hadn’t got to him in time. She rubs her temple, feeling a headache coming on. And of course, thinking of that boy makes her think of her own, of her boys being in danger. The thought makes her want to crawl inside herself and never come out. She hugs herself, feeling her chest heave. This is the point when there’s only one person she wants to talk to.
The ringing phone makes her jump. She stares at it for a moment, debating just not picking up. She really doesn’t want to talk to Will right now. But something inside her is drawn to the phone. Her hand seems to move of its own accord. Slowly she brings it to her ear.
For the first time in hours, she can finally breathe. A smile spreads across her face. “Emily.”
***
Emily’s panting. There’s a door at the end of the corridor. She knows she has to get there, but when she tries to run, the door just seems to get further away. The dark corridor stretches, taunting her. If she doesn’t reach the door, something bad is going to happen.
A gun cocks behind her. She freezes, the hairs standing up on the back of her neck. She can see her breath as she exhales quickly. Slowly, she turns around. It’s Doyle, pointing a gun at her head. She’s scared for only a fraction of a second before she hears a loud, blood-curdling scream, sending Emily’s heart into a frenzy because she knows that scream. She knows who’s behind the door and she knows she’s going to die if Emily doesn’t reach her. Doyle knows it too. He pulls the trigger.
Emily sits bolt upright in bed, drenched in sweat. Her breath coming fast and heavy. She blinks, trying to orient herself. She feels the sheets beneath her hands and the cool breeze coming in through the window. She looks at the clock. It’s 11pm – she must have only been asleep half an hour. Her heart rate is returning to normal, the shaking of her body is slowing down. She needs to leave the room. She hates her London bedroom, nothing but nightmares have occurred there. Sure, she’s brought people there before, but the nightmares are all she remembers.
She pads into the living room, pulling on her dressing gown as she goes, and puts the kettle on. Her favourite thing about her flat is the armchair. It’s one of those huge, plush ones that she’s pushed over to the window. There’s a small table next to it with a book and a phone on top. She sits there now, nursing a cup of tea and staring out the window. The crisp night air penetrates. Emily takes gulps of it.
Sometimes when she wakes from the nightmares, there’s a short window of time where she forgets where she is. She forgets she moved to Interpol and she forgets why she had to leave. Sometimes, before she opens her eyes in the morning, she expects to wake up on the jet, with Derek and Dave staring at her, smiling incredulously. With Spencer sat next to her, jiggling his leg up and down. With Hotch opposite, reading out the case file. And then, her eyes open and her heart drops.
It’s not that she hates her life here. In fact, she loves her job. And she’s made some friends, had some fun. It’s just that everything here is dulled. Everything carries a grey tint, numbing her feelings. Even the joy here is subdued. And she’s starting to miss colours.
Emily pulls her laptop off the sofa. It opens on her last used tab: online scrabble. A smile creeps onto Emily’s face. Cheeto Breath has played since she last looked, the word ‘DISTANCE’. She sets her mug of tea onto the side table and looks at the letters available to her in the game. Playing always makes her think of Paris, how could it not? For months, Cheeto Breath was the only thing linking her to her old life. Emily Prentiss has had many lives, but SSA Prentiss of the BAU will always be her favourite.
She’s had partners since being in London. A couple of boyfriends who lasted two months, a girlfriend who managed to last three, and countless one night stands. But none of them have felt right. None of them have been able to make her feel whole. None of them have been anything other than good distractions. There was one woman who came close. She had long blonde hair, tied up in a braid when Emily first saw her at the bar. Her blue eyes almost sparkled in the light. They’d had good conversations, she was funny and asked all the right questions. But the next morning, Emily hadn’t felt filled up and content. She’d felt deflated and relieved when she saw the woman had left in the middle of the night. What was wrong with her?
She checks the clock again. Midnight. She’s been staring at her computer screen, daydreaming, for forty five minutes. It’s five in the morning in Virginia right now. There’s no way she’s in her office at this hour. And yet, Emily feels her hand moving to the phone, dialling a number she seems to know by heart. It rings in her ear for hours, every second she becomes more certain the office is lying empty. Until, suddenly, the click. Someone’s picked up.
“JJ?” Emily asks, hesitantly. When she hears the reply, the emptiness inside her vanishes completely. Despite being thousands of miles away, she is home.