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She left. Before even considering what happened all evening and night, she was gone.
Emily woke up in the middle of the night around three in the morning with sweat flowing all over her body. It was just a nightmare and she’s used to those. What she isn’t used to is waking up next to this—gorgeous with messy blonde hair—girl.
Emily, feeling her chest a little tight, turned her head to the left. She noticed blonde hair falling all over her body. She looked closer and saw a face. The face of an angel if you’re like Emily—half awake from the worst nightmare you’ve had in so long.
Your fears become real. That’s what her therapist used to say. And Emily hates how true that is.
The nightmare was one she hadn’t had over years ago. JJ, lying on the ground, covered in blood. She kept saying Emily’s name over and over. But she couldn’t reach her.
The more she tried to reach JJ, she kept getting further away. The room was big, too big. The walls were stretching out.
And just when she was about to reach her, she noticed a knife in her hand, covered in fresh blood. She looked up at JJ; dozens of bruises over her body. Knife marks.
Did I hurt her?
That’s what comes from getting too close to Emily. Only pain and suffering.
The contrast between the dream and reality was overwhelming. JJ was lying there, head rested on Emily’s chest, her breaths even, a face so peaceful, the opposite from her nightmare. Her left arm was lying over Emily’s ribs. It felt too heavy.
Maybe in reality she didn’t hurt her physically but she still did by not sending texts or calling her anymore.
The thought of that sends her back into overthinking. Your mind is a liar. But what if it’s not? What if getting too close to her again would make Emily hurt her more?
Keeping her distance was always a way to survive and to be able to separate what she has to do and not what she wants to do.
She wants to be closer to JJ again, but she can’t.
So Emily finds herself pushing JJ to the side of the couch, putting a cushion under her head and a soft blanket over her body as she runs away once more. JJ groans but lets Emily push her anyway because she’s still asleep.
Struggling to put her keys in the door’s lock of her apartment, her mind circles back to JJ. To the way she looked so rested like she hadn’t seen her in weeks or months.
And the way Emily used to be her.
Back when they were in Paris and Emily was hiding, JJ used to hold her through the long nights of terror. The fear of Doyle finding her hiding spot. JJ stayed up all night while Emily got some rest just to make sure she would be safe.
Emily would have done the same for her. And since it was JJ, Emily did get some sleep those nights because she trusted her more than anyone in the world. She would close her eyes and finally find peace.
JJ would tell her in the morning that the fear wasn’t showing anymore on her face while she slept and somehow, it brought her comfort. But that was only with JJ.
And ten years later Emily finds herself running away from the same comfort she used to have. It wasn’t fair to leave JJ all alone like she did but she had no other choice. She would end up hurting her.
By the time Emily arrived at the BAU it was so early that the office was still dark. Of course no one came to work at seven in the morning and especially not JJ because she has to take her kids to summer school first.
Emily sighed as she made her way to her office—hot coffee in one hand, files in the other—she pushes the door with her foot and senses her phone buzz in her pocket. She leaves the coffee and files on her desk and takes out her phone. It’s a text, from JJ.
Her mouth goes dry. She was hoping for JJ to let it go and not ask any questions but of course, JJ is the opposite of that.
JJ: Hey, just wanted to check if you were okay. I didn’t hear you leave. I was hoping we could have breakfast together this morning with the boys but I guess you already went home.
She gets deceived and still has hope that somehow Emily will make it to breakfast. Emily feels disappointed in herself. She runs her hand through her hair as she sits down on her fancy office chair.
She takes one sip of coffee—too hot—it burns her tongue but she swallows anyway because nothing can hurt more than the thought of her leaving JJ last night.
Everyone starts coming into the office at around seven thirty, Penelope being the first. As she sees Emily already having her laptop opened, files scattered all around her desk and the face of someone unrested, she makes her way toward her office. She quickly knocks on the door—not waiting for an answer—and sprints toward the chair to sit down.
“My dear, you look so tired,” Penelope says as she sets her bag down onto the other chair, the dozens of keyring making a lot of noise.
Emily glances up, meeting Penelope’s gaze, “I’m alright,” she manages to say with a sigh.
“Did you stay up that late? Did you all have another round when I left?” Penelope asks in disbelief.
Emily rolls her eyes. “No, we went home,” she replied. But something clicks in her brain. Penelope is JJ’s best friend—she knows everything about her. So why not ask her a few questions.
“Can I ask you something?” Emily asked but she wasn’t really waiting for a reply because as soon as Penelope’s lips parted, Emily was already speaking. “Do you sleep next to your best friend when she’s over at your place? Does she cuddle with you?” she asks with no remorse.
“I’m not sure I like where this is going—”
“Penelope, just answer, please,” Emily begs.
Penelope puts a finger in her mouth, biting it gently as she thinks. “Considering JJ is my best friend…” Emily’s eyes widen, that’s the answer she’s waiting for. “We don’t cuddle. We sleep next to each other yeah, but that woman is all about staying in our respective sides of bed during sleep,” Penelope replies.
That’s not the answer Emily expected. Because if JJ wasn’t being all touchy with Penelope, why was she doing it with Emily?
That’s when JJ entered the bullpen, greeting everybody in the room. Her eyes flickered to Emily’s office for a second, at first on Emily then on Garcia. She must be wondering what they’re talking about so early in the morning.
But she doesn’t linger. Instead, she puts her bag on her desk and goes to the kitchen.
“What is this really about?” Penelope asks.
Emily’s gaze shifts back to Penelope who seems far too curious. “Nothing, you can go back to work,” Emily replies nonchalantly. She can’t let Penelope know anything because that woman is like a newspaper, you just can’t avoid gossip. Emily isn’t fond of the idea of being a headline.
In the BAU’s kitchen, Tara is resting on the counter, waiting for her coffee to flow. JJ mirrors her posture, unsure if she should say something.
“Hey,” Tara says, waking JJ up from her thoughts. JJ greets her back but Tara does notice when something’s not right.
“Are you okay?” She asks, a light question but she has no idea that JJ had spent her whole morning spiraling over last night.
It’s not like Emily hadn’t spent her whole life confusing JJ—she’d always been a mystery to her. But there was just something about last night…
The last thing JJ remembered after falling asleep was the soft skin of Emily under her. She could feel her slow breaths landing on her shiny blonde hair. She was not fully awake but aware enough to feel butterflies all over her body as she pressed her body tighter to Emily’s. She’s missed her too much.
To her it felt so natural. It was instinctive to be this close to Emily. She was used to it, to hug her, to hold her hand. They did this all the time before and it was never an issue.
But why does it feel different? JJ knows she was always the one to reach for Emily through the years, the first one to always make a move. She would grab Emily’s arm when they were laughing too hard. Or even kiss her cheek when they hadn’t seen each other for a while. Isn’t that what best friends do? It is. Still, JJ feels like it’s different.
So she finds herself waiting for coffee next to Tara—a queer woman—the answer to all of her questions if she digs into it. She gathers some courage and thinks once more about last night before turning her gaze toward Tara and asks: “How did you find out you liked women?”
Tara lets out an uncontrollable laugh, clearly she wasn’t expecting that question and especially not from JJ. “At eight in the morning Jennifer? Really?” Tara chuckles as she looks back into JJ’s soft eyes, silently questioning her. She has to answer, JJ seems too sincere to let it slide. “I think…” Tara starts and notices how JJ turned her whole attention to her, carefully listening to every single word that leaves her mouth.
“I think I just realized some girls weren’t meant to be my friends,” Tara admitted with a small smile. JJ felt it, some kind of realization in her heart. The words made so much sense to her but she’d have to take some time to figure out what they meant.
Penelope stormed into the kitchen and Tara and JJ’s gazes shifted toward her panicked face. “We have a case, it’s bad.”
They all met in the briefing room as Penelope was setting up her laptop. JJ waited by the door as she saw Emily already sat, her reading glasses on her nose and a pen in hand. She was breathtaking in a way that only JJ could notice. The projector flashed a few pictures from the crime scenes: five different bodies all crucified to a wall, mutilated over their chest and belly, a cross painted in black under them.
“This is what has been happening over the last two weeks in Denton,” Garcia starts speaking, turning her back to the awful images on the screen. “The unsub mutilates the victims until they confess and repent themselves but most of the time they’ve already lost too much blood when they crucify them to the wall…”
Rossi raises an eyebrow, “Confess?” he asks.
“The Denton police believe this is a hate crime against homosexuality,” Garcia adds. All eyes are on her in disbelief, JJ sighs and rubs her nose while Emily remains calm.
“When was the last victim found?” Emily asks.
“Ten hours ago, they requested our help a little after,” Garcia replied.
Emily sighs, lifting her glasses to her forehead, “Wheels up in 20, we have no time to lose.”
Everyone stands up and heads toward their respective offices to gather their stuff before the flight but not JJ. She stands there in the briefing room, still lying on the side of the door, her eyes fixed on the bodies displayed by the projector.
Just when she lets her mind wander, a hand slides behind her back: it’s Emily’s.
“JJ, are you okay?” Emily asks with the softest voice.
She shakes her head, forcing herself to meet Emily’s worried eyes as she replies, “Yeah… I need to call my mom for the boys.”