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For JJ, grief is her oldest friend and the noose around her neck. Even if it wasn't for the fact she lost her sister at eleven, she crosses it's path almost everyday. The number of times she has had to tell someone they've lost their child, their sister, their husband. Too many to count.
Selfishly, nothing holds a candle to looking her friends in the eye and telling them Emily never made it off that table – not until she's looking at her boys and telling them their dad is gone.
There are hundreds of metaphors for grief. She's heard it all. Tara said it would come in waves. That she just has to ride it out. Water, JJ supposes, is as good a metaphor as any. At first it is like drowning, or less like drowning and more like being fully submerged. Like when you're holding your breath underwater and all the noises you hear are muffled and distant.
Then you're treading water and it's exhausting, it's easy to slip back under now and then. For Henry and Michael, JJ ponders, that might feel more like a rip dragging them back out to sea. Lately JJ would say she's been floating close to shore, buoyed by the renewed support system that is her BAU family, but with Christmas fast approaching there's a slow dread creeping up on her.
—
After a loss, everyone always says that significant events can be the toughest – birthdays, holidays, anniversaries. It's textbook. For better or worse, Michael's birthday falling so close to Will's passing had thrown them in the deep end — sink or swim. JJ, desperate not to repeat her parents mistakes, thinks she did a good job in the end. Somehow struck the right balance between not forcing it and not just ignoring the elephant in the room. It made Henry's birthday a few weeks ago easier to navigate too. Then came Thanksgiving which has never really been something they made a huge deal out of, they didn't come from big families and work usually took precedence but Christmas feels like their holiday and now JJ finds herself suddenly apprehensive about what that is going to look like this year.
Tonight she's at Garcia's with Tara, Rebecca and Emily. It was an unintentional Girl's Night. Tyler was busy, Rossi wanted a quiet night at home (although JJ has it on good authority, Emily's, that a quiet night at home for Dave now typically includes Jill Gideon) and Luke had happily offered to have a movie night with Michael while Henry was over at a friend's house.
JJ excused herself to the kitchen under the guise of a refill but she knows she can only ruminate on her anxiety so long with no solid wall between the two rooms. Garcia is locked in discussing all things wedding with the brides-to-be but Emily—
"You okay?"
Emily is in the kitchen now.
"Am I that obvious?" JJ exhales.
Emily just tilts her head and gives her a look that says, "No, but I know you." And waits for JJ to voice her concerns.
"At the risk of giving you infuriatingly obvious advice, just talk to them. Tell them how you feel, ask them what they want and figure it out together."
JJ groans, and burrows her head into Emily's shoulder — that is infuriatingly obvious advice.
"Jayje," Emily not quite whispers, rubbing her hand across JJ's back gently, "You are so much more equipped to help them navigate all of this than your parents were. It's gonna be okay."
—
JJ does talk to the boys and they decide maybe going out of town for Christmas will be good. There is no version of this where they just pretend Will isn't gone. JJ will never let her boys feel how she did growing up — choking on her sorrow in silence while her parents isolated themselves from each other and her, swallowed by their own grief — but being in the house without him, doing all the same things they would usually do without him, that might be harder than it needs to be. They can start a new tradition and still honor Will's memory.
Her anxiety surrounding Christmas without him has eased, but now she's faced with the seemingly impossible task of finding somewhere for them to spend the holiday on such short notice. Christmas is two weeks away and every place Will had ever taken the boy's it fully booked, his old partner's place is of course being used by said partner and his family and she's quickly running out of options. She'd been texting Derek yesterday and only half jokingly begged him to just come here and build her something.
The bustle in the bullpen, of people winding down and preparing to leave for the day, her draws her attention to the clock on the wall above Emily's currently empty office, it's already past five o'clock so JJ finalizes the report she's been working on and shuts down her computer. Emily's been gone all afternoon. JJ and Luke came back from lunch just as she'd been leaving and Tara only offered a shrug when they'd asked where she was headed.
As she pulls her jacket on and flicks her hair out of of the collar, Emily appears.
"Oh, JJ," Emily comes to a stop right beside her, her left hand reaching out and cradling JJ's elbow reflexively. "You're still here, good."
"Hey, where've you been?"
"D.C."
"D.C.?" JJ doesn't know Emily's calender by heart but she usually knows when a meeting is scheduled to take her into the city. "What were you doing there?"
"Getting you these," Emily replies as she reveals a set of keys in her right hand and hands them to JJ. She knows she must look as confused as she feels because Emily continues, "There for a lake house my parents own in Maryland. They're leaving for Berlin tonight and I wasn't planning to see them but when I asked my mother about the house she insisted I go pick them up in person."
"Okay…"
"They're for you… and the boys. For Christmas. It takes about an hour or so to get there from here, there's plenty of space, I can arrange for it to be fully stocked food wise for when you get there."
"Derek." JJ concludes.
"He might have mentioned something when I spoke to him this morning," Emily grins sheepishly, "And you have to say yes because did I mention I had to see my mother today?"
"Of course yes, thank you so much," JJ chest feels tight with affection, "Em, you're the best."
—
In her effort to ensure JJ had time off over Christmas Emily managed to secure the whole team an uninterrupted ten day break starting from Christmas Eve. They had wrapped things up at work earlier today and the team unanimously decided to grab a quick drink at O'Malley's before they part ways until the new year. JJ and the boys are driving to Emily's lake house tomorrow morning, Garcia is flying to Chicago to spend the holidays with Derek and Savannah, Rossi is traveling to be with Joy, Luke is heading home to New York, Tara and Tyler have plans closer to home.
"How 'bout you, Boss?" Luke directs towards Emily.
"I don't know, nothing too exciting. Any year my parents decide to spend their Christmas abroad is a good one. No obligatory galas, or asinine charity balls that costs just as much to throw as the donations they get."
The next words out of JJ's mouth escape before she even realises, "You should come with us."
"No, JJ, you don't —"
"I'm serious, I know it's probably gonna be a bit heavy given everything but it can't be worse than spending the day alone in your apartment."
JJ can see Emily fighting with herself in real time, gnawing at her bottom lip. "If you're sure."
"I'm sure."
When JJ first explained to the boys that Emily had come through with their accommodation they'd asked if she'd be joining them and had seemed a little disappointed that she wouldn't be. JJ was secretly a little disappointed too. JJ would do anything for Will to be alive, for her boys to not know loss the way they do now but that isn't their reality. What's been real over these last eight months is the unwavering support she's gotten from everyone and not just her, but the boys too and none more so than from Emily. JJ feels like they're closer than they have ever been and certainly Emily had ingratiated herself to Henry and Michael in a way she never had before.
Maybe it was just the fact she'd been away for so long when they were young, or the fact Penelope and Spencer had been so present and enthusiastic in their roles, they'd had it covered. But Emily, who JJ knew could be so good with kids, always seemed to linger at the edges. Like she didn't want to overstep or say the wrong thing. It's been a different side of her that JJ has witnessed as she has watched her relationship with the two boys blossom since Will's passing. It reminded her of Emily when she first joined the BAU, there was an awkwardness to her that was decidedly uncool, yet unsuspectingly charming.
Sure, her boys had inherited her athletic streak and but they'd also been well versed in all things nerd via their godparents and truly had some of the most eclectic interests of any kids as far as JJ was concerned. Emily may not have Spencer's magic skills to impress them with, but she didn't need them, they were so alike in other ways. She'd quickly found connection point with both of them — playing chess, helping Henry practice his French, watching old science fiction movies together.
—
The next day JJ, Henry and Michael arrive at the lake house just after midday. It's exactly as picturesque as JJ imagined and reeks of old money in all the best ways. Which is to say, it's an elegantly rustic log cabin (although cabin does not do it's size justice). It's old but it's clear that it has been meticulously maintained over the years and it sits in start opposition to some of the other properties they'd passed on the drive up — garishly modern, sharp steel edges and completely out of place in the wooded area they find themselves in.
They get settled, picking out rooms and assessing the food situation — which as Emily had promised and insisted upon, is fully stocked up. They're not expecting her to arrive until later in the afternoon so as soon as they've had lunch they head back outside together and go for a little walk around the property. When they eventually get back to the house, Emily's car is parked perfectly beside theirs and she's unloading presents from the boot to the growing pile on the porch.
Michael rushes ahead when he spots her, colliding into her side with all the unabashed energy of an excitable ten-year-old and Henry follows behind closely, automatically starting to carry Emily's things into the house. It's been snowing, although it's not cold enough or the lake the cabin sits on to have frozen over, and they're all suitably rugged up. JJ and the boys however, have had time to acclimatize to the temperature shift from the city and Emily's face is flushed, blood rushing to her extremities in an attempt to fight off the cold. JJ thinks she looks adorable, and she admires the way Emily's silver locks drape down over the thick emerald knitted turtle neck Emily dons. She's wearing thick wool-grey pants and functional wool lined leather boots.
Adorable. JJ swallows and greets her warmly.
Their Christmas Eve is cozy and unhurried. JJ makes hot cocoa for everyone, extra marshmallows for Michael and a splash of bourbon for her and Emily. They swap Christmas stories easily, the boys enamoured with Emily's descriptions of Christmases in London, in Paris, in Egypt and JJ is almost overcome with emotion every time they mention Will without so much as a stilted pause or heavy silence. It's everything she wanted.
When they wake up the next morning it's just as easy, they eat breakfast and settle near the fireplace to exchange gifts. There's a few tears shed as JJ hands over gifts for the boys that Will had stockpiled earlier in the year. Notably, JJ can't help but notice that Emily's gifts have all been meticulously selected and there's no way she'd managed to get them all in the last few days.
For Michael there's stack of beautifully bound, thick paged sketch books that should last him through the entire year, a set of charcoal pencils and some oil pastels. They're far too expensive for a ten-year-old but it still warms JJ's heart to see Emily encouraging his interest in art. He's honestly very good, art therapy has been helping immensely and she's started looking at arts focused high schools for him in the last few months. There's also an expertly crafted wooden puzzle that should keep him relatively occupied for the majority of the afternoon.
For Henry he opens a pile of books JJ is sure he's read before, but that doesn't stifle his excitement at receiving them. She recognises some of the author's — Asimov, Adams, Vonnegut — and some she doesn't.
"They're in French, Mom!" Henry supplies, probably seeing the confusion on her face.
"It helps to read something you're already familiar with," Emily adds.
Of course they are, JJ thinks. They're perfect. Everything about this has been perfect. Emily is— JJ hears the way her own breath catches in her throat and she feels three concerned gazes fall on her. She's fine, she tells them, everything is good.
It's not that she doesn't miss Will. It's not that she doesn't feel his absence, she does. That was expected, she anticipated that. It's how perfectly Emily fits in this moment. How right it feels. If this was about creating new traditions, then suddenly, JJ realises she can't imagine this day without Emily. She doesn't want to.
—
If grief is like water, like an ocean — Emily is a lighthouse leading her home.