Archive of Our Own

Things have been going well, truly. Emily hasn't had an episode in almost nine months , which is a victory unto itself. Recently, she’s only been needing to see her therapist once or twice a week. She has been doing great at her job, and she has even managed to start and maintain a romantic relationship over the past six months. Emily’s medication is actually working, the therapy is helping. Occasionally, she almost feels normal .

Sometimes she gets a little lonely, sure. From time to time, Emily begins to wonder how the other woman is doing. Every time she begins to actually miss her, Emily reminds herself of the chaos and suffering that Lauren would always bring with her. It’s better this way, the brunette tells herself. It’s good that she got help, lord knows that she needed it. After all, the first time Emily had seen Lauren beyond a mirror’s reflection… she hadn't reacted well. 

At the time, the brunette had been settling into her new apartment in DC, getting used to her new position at the BAU, finally free from the horrors of JTF-12. One night, Emily had chosen to unwind with a glass of wine and an old, low-budget horror flick. The symptoms had started inconspicuously enough. 

Emily would catch a glimpse of a brunette woman out of the corner of her eye, but whenever she glanced back to check her peripheral vision, nobody was there. It only got worse as time went on. The visual apparitions became more and more common, growing progressively more detailed, until eventually Lauren appeared to her, as clear as Emily’s own reflection. The auditory and tactile hallucinations started soon after.

Lauren began to follow Emily around at work and at home, whispering memories of their years undercover in her ear, never letting the woman forget the blood that she’d spilled back in Europe. After about a week of dealing with it alone, Emily had barely slept, she couldn't focus. LAuren’s voice began to echo in her head even when she wasn't hallucinating visually. The team started to notice how run-down she was. JJ would shoot her worried glances, Reid began to spew facts about the effects of sleep deprivation, and Garcia would frown slightly at the sight of deep bags under Emily’s eyes. Hotch eventually pulled her into a meeting, and at his request, Emily begrudgingly called one of the bureau’s top psychologists. 

The doctor had figured out her situation remarkably quickly, once she explained her history. She told him about the trauma that she’d endured while undercover, the sick man that she was forced into loving, and the fictitious version of herself that refused to leave her alone. He had written her a prescription, gave her the number of a well-reviewed psychotherapist, and wished her luck. That was almost three years ago, now. 

Over time, Lauren has faded further and further into Emily’s peripheral. At first, once she’d gotten on medication, the figment would show up maybe once or twice a week. After enough hours on that damn couch in her therapist’s office, Lauren became less and less of a problem. She began to appear only when Emily was sleep-deprived, when she was anxious — more so than her usual level of anxiety, that is — or whenever the brunette accidently forgot to take her medication.

By the time she and JJ began to get serious in their relationship, Emily was almost perfectly fine. The blonde knows about her time undercover — well, some of it, at least — but JJ doesn’t know about the hallucinations. Emily hadn’t wanted to scare her off. Besides, as long as she takes the little white pills twice a day and makes sure to see her therapist once a week, she is completely normal. That was, until tonight.

JJ slipped her key into the deadbolt, unlocking it with a practiced ease. With a bag of warm Chinese food gripped tightly in her left hand, she opened Emily’s front door with her right, pulling her key back out. Once inside, she immediately noticed the complete absence of light within the apartment. Odd , JJ thought to herself. Emily always leaves the living room lamp on, especially when she knows her girlfriend is coming over. 

The blonde shrugs, flicking on the kitchen light and setting the bag of takeout onto the island. She begins to set out the separate containers, grabbing two forks from the silverware drawer without sparing the action a second thought. “Emily! Food’s here!” She calls out down the hall, fully expecting the brunette to come barrelling into the kitchen at the mention of nourishment. A moment passes, and her girlfriend is still nowhere to be found. 

JJ just shrugs, figuring that the woman must just be in the bathroom or something. She opens up the large container of chow mein — Emily’s favourite — and spreads its contents somewhat evenly across two dinner plates, giving the brunette a bit more. A minute or two passes, and still, there’s no sign of the apartment's owner. JJ finally gives up on waiting. Emily probably fell asleep while waiting for her to arrive, that woman can’t ever resist a cat nap. 

Walking down the hallway towards Emily’s bedroom, she notices something a bit concerning. The wall to her left is covered in picture frames, photos of the team, Henry, and JJ, all perfectly lined up in a familiar format. At least, they're supposed to be. A couple of the frames are slightly askew, as if someone had stumbled into the wall. Growing more worried by the second, JJ continues down the dark hallway. “Em? You okay?” She asks into the dark, somewhat hesitantly pushing the bedroom door open. 

The room is revealed to be bathed in blackness. The curtains are pulled shut, every light in the room is turned off, and JJ is hit with a sense of deep unease. She flips the lightswitch as if it’s second nature — because it is , she practically lives here whenever Henry is with his dad. Still, JJ takes in the familiar bedroom. The bed sheets are all out of place, there’s a blanket thrown onto the floor, and Emily’s prescription bottle lies open, empty, and discarded atop of the bedside table. 

Still, her girlfriend is nowhere to be seen. She’s starting to get scared now. Emily is on a high dose of antidepressants. She has a history with self-harm, but the brunette has been clean for almost a year. What if she’s — 

JJ doesn't let herself finish the thought. She knows how far Emily has come, how much progress she’s made with her mental health in the past few years. The blonde repeats it in her head, telling herself that everything is absolutely fine as she goes back to looking for her girlfriend. Really, there’s only one other place she hasn't searched yet. So, JJ moves towards the en-suite, eyeing the crack beneath the door, where it doesn't quite meet the hardwood of the floor. 

No light emanates from the little slit, and JJ tries not to let the panic rise in her chest. She doesn't let herself wonder what lies on the other side of the door; she knows herself too well, knows that her brain will immediately begin to conjure up images of the worst case scenario. A familiar sight materializes within her mind’s eye. The bathtub, the deep red water, the slit wrist hanging on the edge of the porcelain. JJ sees this memory every day, but this time, Roslyn’s face is replaced by Emily’s.

The blonde’s hands clench themselves into fists at her sides. She takes a deep breath, determinedly pushing the image out of her head. JJ takes a second to prepare herself for whatever she’s about to find, before precariously twisting the doorknob. It’s locked. 

JJ’s heart flares within her chest. “Emily? Are you in there?” She asks, unsurprised to hear her own voice wavering slightly. Still, no response comes, and the silence threatens to crush her beneath its weight. “It’s me, baby. Are you alright?” She speaks again, resting her ear against the door in an attempt to listen for movement on the other side. She’s met with the faint noise of sniffles and shuddering breaths, and even though she knows Emily is not okay, JJ breathes a sigh of relief because at least she’s alive .

A quietly spoken whisper barely breaks through the deafening silence that threatens to envelop her, and JJ’s chest tightens at the words. “Help me, please.” Emily begs softly from within the restroom. Her voice is uncharacteristically small, rough and hoarse as if she’s been crying. Judging by her tone and what she’s just said, JJ figures that she probably has. The brunette sounds scared — terrified is more like it, truly — and the younger woman aches to get to her.

“I want to help you, but it’s locked. Can you please open the door for me?” JJ’s voice is patient and kind, she speaks as if Emily is a frightened animal. There’s a small sound of someone muttering from inside the bathroom, but JJ can’t make out the words through the door. “Honey, I need you to open the door.” The blonde says, praying to every god she doesn't believe in that Emily is okay on the other side.

A moment of suffocatingly still silence follows JJ’s request, but eventually, a whispered response makes its way to the blonde’s ears. “She… she won’t go away.” Emily says fearfully.

“Who?” JJ asks immediately. Panic rises in her throat, that same uneasy feeling from the hallway returning in its full force. “Emily, who’s in there with you?” The blonde twists the doorknob again, over and over in different directions, trying to move it enough that it will miraculously unlock. It’s futile, and Emily needs her. The brunette doesn’t respond to her question, and so JJ takes matters into her own hands. “I’ll be right back, please just hold on for me.” She says hurriedly, dashing out of the bedroom.

Inside of the pitch-dark washroom, Emily can hear her girlfriend’s hasty footsteps as they recede. She’s sitting on the freezing cold tile floor, back against the cabinets, knees pulled tight to her chest, arms wrapped around herself, shaking. Emily can’t see Lauren, but she knows that the other woman is there. She can hear her. The hallucination’s voice trails in and out of the brunette’s ears, even as she covers them with her palms, trying to call upon whatever coping skills she’d learned in therapy. She hasn't been very successful thus far.

“God, she sounded so sweet.” Lauren whispers into the dark, her nonexistent breath hot on Emily’s shoulder. The woman can sense her presence next to her, can feel the second source of body heat, even if Lauren isn't actually there. Then the hallucination goes back to torturing Emily, the delight clear as day in her voice as she does so. “Does she know about Ian?” Lauren asks, pressing deeper into the recesses of Emily’s psyche. “Does she know what we did ? How many innocents did we put in the ground just to try and please him?” The apparition wonders aloud, her voice as smooth as silk as her words cut gashes into Emily’s sanity.

“Stop, please , stop.” The brunette pleads desperately, begging Lauren for even the slightest reprieve. She hides her head between her knees, trying to block out everything except for her own breathing.

Just then, JJ returns. “I’m back, baby. I’m right here.” The blonde says hurriedly around her own panting breaths. Emily’s head lifts hopefully when she hears her girlfriend’s voice, beginning to watch the door. The knob starts moving back and forth, both clockwise and counter. Emily still can’t see anything, it’s too dark.

Lauren laughs when Emily looks up, she sees the movement even in the pitch black room. After all, Lauren is Emily. “Aww, what do you think she’s gonna do?” The hallucination laughs mockingly. “Kick down the door?” Her voice is almost insulting. It sounds the same as Emily’s own, but there’s an air of dark, twisted satisfaction as she speaks to the brunette. 

The doorknob rattles again and then suddenly, the door actually opens. Light from the bedroom’s lamp floods in, and Emily’s bloodshot eyes land on JJ. There’s a screwdriver in her hand, she’s wearing that soft, off-white sweater that the older woman had lent her months ago, along with a pair of her usual skin-tight black leggings. Emily hardly has a moment to take in the blonde’s appearance before JJ flicks on the bathroom light, falling to her knees in front of the woman on the floor.

JJ’s gaze darts all over Emily’s body, somewhat frantically checking for any signs of harm, whether self-inflicted or not. Her widened blue eyes eventually land upon the dermaplaning razor in the brunette’s hand. “Emily, what’s wrong? Who were you talking to?” JJ asks carefully, palming the older woman’s cheek, trying to keep the woman’s eyes on her.

Emily opens her mouth to respond, but the hallucination next to her begins speaking before she can. “I can tell she cares about you. It’s in her voice, it's the same one we used with Ian.” She smiles sickly when the brunette turns to look at her. Lauren’s words bite into Emily’s last semblance of composure. She can feel the hallucination’s body next to her own, torturing her with the proximity. “Do you think she’d still talk to us like that if she finds out who we really are?” Lauren asks her, clearly trying to get under Emily’s skin.

Even if the brunette is smart enough to see through the ploy, it still works. Emily ignores JJ’s hand trying to pull her gaze back. Instead, she stares Lauren right in the eyes, trying to appear braver than she actually feels. “You're not real. You're not really here.” She chokes on the last word, her own voice betraying her.

“Emily… who are you talking to?” JJ’s tone is just as patient, but there’s a subtle air of alarm within it now. Still, her girlfriend’s voice barely makes it to the brunette’s ears, she’s too focused on the other voice that refuses to leave her alone.

“Go away .” Emily demands, her voice breaking again on the last syllable. “ Please .” She begs, hoping that if she’s determined enough, she can just will Lauren back into the tightly locked box within her mind that the hallucination usually resides in these days. Alas, the figment just smirks.

“You know I’m real. I’m as real as the oceans of blood that we have on our hands.” She chuckles, her breath puffing against Emily’s own lips as Lauren leans in closer to her face. “Does she know about that little girl? What was her name…” She trails off conspiratorially, playfully tapping her index finger to her chin. 

Panic rises in Emily’s chest, her hands begin to shake, and tears materialize upon her waterline. JJ says something, but she’s too caught up in her own terror to hear it. “Please… don’t .” Emily is crying now, and she feels the blonde’s fingers wipe away her tears as they fall. Her plea for mercy falls flat with the hallucination, just as she’d known it would.

Lauren’s eyes sparkle as the name pops into her head suddenly. “Vanessa, wasn't it?” She smiles sickly, and her features are so familiar, so identical, that Emily nearly breaks. “She couldn't have been more than seven years old.” Lauren reminds her, still grinning — as if she’s proud of it. “Your little girlfriend here has a son, doesn't she?” The former version of Emily asks rhetorically, nodding her head to JJ.

The brunette closes her eyes. She can't look at her, and she especially can't look at her . “ Stop .” Emily begs again, even though she knows nothing will come of it. 

“Don’t you remember her screams?” Lauren’s voice is right in her ear now, and she feels the woman’s nonexistent breath against her neck. “Can’t you still see her face… when we put that bullet through her father’s head?” 

The memory flashes behind her eyes. That little girl, barely up to Emily’s hips, holding onto her father’s corpse as he bled out on Doyle’s living room floor. The man had betrayed Ian, but his daughter was innocent. She didn't deserve to lose her father, but Emily hadn’t been given a choice. When the girl’s screams begin to echo in her ears, the brunette finally breaks. “Stop!” She screams, dropping the razor in her hand to pull at the roots of her own hair. “Get out of my head! Get out !” Her voice is shrill and chilling, sounding like something out of a horror movie.

JJ’s hands pull at Emily’s wrists, trying to untangle her fingers from the long dark strands, but she is unsuccessful. “Emily! It’s okay, no one is here!” She tries to break through whatever terror fueled frenzy has taken hold of the older woman, but Emily is inconsolable. The brunette has started to hyperventilate, hands fisted in her own hair, tears streaming down her face, unintentionally rocking herself back and forth.

“Tell her, Emily. Tell her what we did .” Lauren whispers into Emily’s ear, doing everything she possibly can to break the woman down even further. Her therapist had talked about this on occasion — about how the hallucination of Emily’s former undercover identity was most likely a manifestation of her own survivor’s guilt and subsequent self-hatred. Hence Lauren's determination to ruin Emily’s life by reminding her of her past sins, never allowing her to move on, to forget. The brunette had thought she’d moved past this. After all, it had been nine months , but she had clearly been wrong.

“No.” Emily mutters under her breath, repeating the word over and over again until it’s the only thought within her head. No, no, no. JJ can’t know what I did when I was undercover. Once she does, she’ll see me for who I really am. A monster. A murderer. The brunette can’t tell whether the voice within her head belongs to her or if it belongs to Lauren. Perhaps there isn't even any difference anymore, perhaps there never was.

“You’ll stain her with your blood soaked hands, Emily.” Lauren's tone sounds as if she takes pleasure in the words. The flames of her voice lick wick within the chambers of Emily’s chest, setting fire to the brunette's already racing heart. “Your love will ruin her.” The woman says.

Emily's head shakes almost violently from side to side, even as JJ futilely attempts to hold her steady. “No! No !” The brunette screams. The younger woman finally manages to wrestle Emily’s hands out of her hair, pulling her wrists to her own chest. Her hands shake within JJ’s grasp.

“Look at me, baby. I’m here.” Blue eyes are locked on brown, JJ’s face is filled with so much care and concern, and it makes the brunette want to sob even harder. “You're gonna be okay.” JJ assures her, determined. The blonde’s lips keep moving, but the sound doesn't manage to reach her girlfriend’s ears.

Lauren’s voice replaces JJ’s once more. “I wonder if her son will miss her once you break her… once you lose control, once you kill her like the monster you are.” The hallucination’s voice is sickening, and ice runs through Emily’s veins. 

She knows what Lauren wants her to do. She wants Emily to own it, to embrace whatever darkness had awoken within her back in Europe, but the brunette refuses. She’ll take her own life before even considering stealing JJ’s. Emily stills suddenly, her mind clear for the first time since the withdrawals from her antipsychotic had hit. “Knock me out.” She pleads to JJ.

The blonde’s face twists in confusion. “What?” She sounds completely taken aback by the request, but Emily doesn't care. She doesn't have time for this. The brunette knows that Lauren won’t go quiet, not until Emily can get back on her medication.

So Emily asks again. “Hit me. Put me to sleep, please .” She cups JJ’s cheeks in her still somewhat shaking hands, the younger woman’s own hands remain braced on her forearms. “I need you to help me, my love. It’s the only way to get her to stop.” Emily begs, her voice trembling slightly, even as she attempts to push the fear out of her mind.

JJ just shakes her head. “Who is she ? Emily, what is going on?” 

“ Please , just do it!” She doesn't mean to yell, but she can feel the pull getting stronger. That voice within her, regardless of whether it's her own or Lauren’s, it screams at her to give in — but Emily won’t. She refuses to, and when JJ sees the determined desperation on the brunette’s face, she nods faintly. 

Lauren suddenly speaks up, sounding furious once she realizes that the brunette has bested her once again. “ Wait —” Lauren rushes out. Emily closes her eyes, and the impact comes a moment later. In an instant, the world goes black. Finally , all that’s left within her head is silence.

She wakes up in a bed that doesn't belong to her. There’s a slight sting as she forces past the heaviness of her eyelids to open them, the bright fluorescent lights beating down upon her. Emily takes in her surroundings. Machines beep rhythmically next to her hospital bed, the door to the bathroom is slightly ajar, and cords tangle around her neck. She turns to her right, discovering a sleeping JJ in the chair that’s been pulled up to her bedside. There’s an IV in the brunette’s arm, her hand held tightly by the blonde’s.

“JJ?” Emily croaks, her voice hoarse. The younger woman doesn't move, and so she speaks again. “Baby?” This time, the blonde stirs, sitting up fully. She blinks a few times, getting her bearings before responding to her girlfriend. When JJ sees that the brunette has woken up, she perks up immediately.

“You're awake.” She says, holding Emily’s hands tighter within her grip. "How are you feeling?” JJ asks, running a hand through her blonde hair before wetting her lips somewhat nervously. She edges closer to the side of Emily’s bed, holding the brunette’s eyeline. She looks disoriented, if not a little confused.

“I… I’m fine.” Emily says, her eyes darting around the room. “My head hurts a bit, but I’m okay.” She assures, bringing one hand up to her face. She feels a single butterfly bandage along her hairline, right where JJ’s fist had made contact. The brunette then spots a matching gauze-wrap around her girlfriend's knuckles. 

JJ follows Emily’s line of sight. She rushes to relieve the obvious guilt and worry on her girlfriend’s face. “It’s nothing, just a couple broken blood vessels.” She smiles reassuringly. JJ doesn't want to push, but she feels like she should apologize for knocking her girlfriend out. “I… I’m sorry about your head.” JJ says, avoiding Emily’s gaze.

The brunette shakes her head immediately. “No, I’m glad you did it. It’s pretty much the last resort whenever I’m having an… episode .” She hesitates on that last word, a clear expression of shame materializing upon her features.

JJ pauses. Obviously, she knows that something is going on with her girlfriend, but she hadn't considered that Emily has had this happen before. “An episode ?” She prompts, JJ's confusion evident within her voice. “I… didn’t know.” Emily avoids the blonde’s gaze. JJ tries not to feel hurt that Emily didn't tell her about whatever condition this is. Still, JJ knows that what Emily needs right now isn't judgement or anger; she needs understanding. “What causes it?” JJ asks with genuine care.

“Honestly? About anything.” Emily sighs, straightening her posture in preparation for her explanation. “Three years ago, after I got out of JTF-12 — right around the time I met you — I started… seeing things.” The brunette looks down at where her hands fiddle nervously in her own lap. JJ’s uninjured hand took hold of Emily’s own. JJ doesn't say anything, she just listens. She waits, giving Emily all the time she needs. “It started small. I’d see a figure out of the corner of my eye, I’d have trouble discerning the thoughts in my from actual voices in the room.” Emily stops again, trying to find the right words. “The hallucinations started getting clearer, and eventually, I realized it was a woman.” JJ tries to absorb the information, doing her absolute best to try and comfort the brunette with a soft gaze and a gentle thumb-rub on the back of Emily’s hand. “She would talk to me, I would feel her breath on my skin, but I knew she was never really there. I went to a bureau psychiatrist… I thought I was going crazy.” Emily chuckles self-deprecatingly. “I got diagnosed with C-PTSD and schizophrenia, type 1.”

JJ blinks, a bit taken aback. “I didn’t even know there were multiple types.” She admits.

Emily shrugs. “Well, there’s only two, but… yeah.”

JJ pauses, a question suddenly occurring to her. “How did you know she wasn’t real?” JJ asks.

Emily sighs. “Because she’s me .” The brunette admits, averting her eyes from JJ’s. “When I was undercover, I was a completely different person. I was Lauren Reynolds, but… once I became Emily again, she just… didn't go away.” 

JJ frowns. “How come you never told me?”

“I’m on medication. I have been for years, ever since I got diagnosed. I hadn't had an episode in nine months … until last night. I ran out of my meds this morning, and I couldn't get my prescription filled right away. I started to fall down the rabbit hole, and I tried everything , but she just… wouldn't go away. I locked myself in the bathroom and turned the lights off, because at least that way, I wouldn't have to look at her face — my face.”

“ God , baby. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s nobody’s fault.” She dismisses JJ quickly. “I understand if this is too much, if it’s a dealbreaker.”

“What?”

“I get it. Who would want to be with someone that could break down and start hallucinating her demons at any moment?” Emily jokes, although there’s a clear edge of self deprecation beneath her words.

“I would. I do .” JJ promises. “I don’t care if you have problems. I do too. It doesnt change the fact that I love you, and that I’m not going anywhere .”

“… Really?” Emily asks hopefully.

“Really.” JJ smiles, kissing her softly. “You are stuck with me forever, Prentiss.”