Chapter Text
Emily had always been a big nail picker. Biter. Whatever. It started the minute her brain knew how to regulate anxiety. She’d gone through a lot as a kid. It was reasonable. That’s what she repeated to herself every time someone called her out. She reminded herself it was just a habit. Nothing more.
“Emily. You’re bleeding.” Reid had approached her. They were on a case, Emily was anxious. So.. she did what she knew best and picked picked picked. It was fine. Just a habit. Nothing more.
This went on for god knows how long. It almost even helped in a way when it came to saving her life, during the whole Doyle ordeal. It was fine. Controlled. At least it was for some time. The simple nail picking stopped being enough to calm her brain. She soon moved onto scratching. This didn’t last long though, she was leaving scratch marks all over her body and that wasn’t okay. Everyone had something to say about it. “Emily what happened?” “Em, are you okay?” God, it was exhausting to hear it all the time. Eventually she went back to picking her nails, much more aggressively this time. There was nothing wrong with it. Just a habit.
It’d been a couple of months since the issue had gotten out of hand. This time she really had something that worked. It did the same thing picking her nails had done except this time it wasn’t visible. Every night after work when Emily was alone; a new line was drawn with blood along her bicep, so when she was anxious–if she innocently itched her arm, it would have the same effect. The pain made her forget about whatever she was worried about, she could focus on the intense burning instead. It helped. It wasn't bad. It was just a habit. It's just a habit, Emily.
No one had noticed the odd behavior for a while. It went on for a few weeks. That was; until it started getting warmer. Emily continued to wear long sleeves and turtlenecks even though she complained about sweating. She flinched whenever touched along her upper arm. Rossi noticed this specifically fast. He had always had a habit of holding Emily’s arms from behind her in a fatherly manner. He cared about her, and that was one of the many different ways he liked to show it.
“You okay kid? You’ve been jumpy.” Rossi spoke quieter than normal. The entire team was in the round table room, including the two of them–for once he wanted their conversation to be just the two of them.
“I’m fine, yeah.” The nod given was gentle, it didn’t take a profiler to notice she wasn’t telling the truth. Everyone in the room had been giving the two of them quick glances on and off for the past five minutes as they spoke. Everyone knew. But it was fine. It was just a habit. Nothing bad. Just a habit. After a few seconds of silence they decided to get to work. Penelope explained the case and it went on from there like usual. Although usual didn’t typically include Emily bouncing her leg, Emily having clammy palms, the rest of the team stealing concerned glances or, especially Derek pausing the case to call Emily’s weird behavior out.
“Prentiss, you’re acting strange. Say something.” Emily practically froze and everyone just silently watched whatever was about to unfold.
“Excuse me?” Everyone knew she wouldn’t take this lightly. That’s why when Emily went home last night, everyone stayed behind–talking about what they were going to do.
“Something’s wrong, like, really wrong..” Garcia spoke up this time. Emily started getting restless.
“Well it’s not really your issue now, is it?” When Rossi decided to place a hand on Emily’s shoulder she stood up, avoiding the touch. That was noted. Everyone was taken aback by the hostility. More so that it was targeted at Penelope over anyone else.
“Prentiss. Take the rest of the day.” It was Hotch speaking now, he stood up to make eye contact with Emily. It was clear in his gaze he was serious. He always was but it was different this time. It wasn’t an angry serious, it was almost like he was concerned himself–which is not an often sight.
The two bickered back and forth until JJ had had enough. She stood up and grabbed Emily’s hand, walking her out of the room before she could fight back.
“JJ what the-” Reid often shares mental health fun facts. When a closed in person gets pressed about their mental health, they get angry and defensive. This is what Emily was doing.
“No, Emily. You’re being an asshole. I’m taking you home and taking care of you.” There was no way Emily could argue. JJ drove. She told Emily she wasn’t allowed to, which was probably for the best because when Emily was angry so was her driving.
When they arrived at Emily’s apartment the two women were talking about Sergio, drowning him with love when they walked in the door. They were both smiling and laughing as they messed with the cat. They were both happy. Eventually JJ told Emily to go change, put on some comfy clothes. She decided to put on pajama pants and a tight long sleeve shirt. It was 90° out though.
“Long sleeves?” JJ was in her own pair of comfortable clothing now. A pair she’d borrowed from Emily.
“Problem?” No eye contact, Emily went straight back to loving Sergio.
“You’re going to sweat yourself into a heat coma. It’s me, I'm not gonna judge your arms if that’s what you’re worried about.” JJ teased the woman, sitting next to her on the couch nudging her with her elbow. Emily swallowed a lump on her throat, refusing to flinch. But it hurt, why wouldn’t it? It was supposed to. That was the point anyway. No it’s not, that makes it sound bad. It’s just a habit. Just a habit.
Emily not responding is what triggered a reaction from JJ. Being gentle wasn’t going to help anymore.
“Roll up your sleeves, Emily.”