Work Text:
"I can take her," you heard from the conference room."There's plenty of room at my place, and I would much rather her stay with me than enter the system."
To be clear, you were not eavesdropping. You just saw the beautiful dark haired agent arguing, and you were curious. You were afraid it was about you, and you were right. She was arguing with "Angerman." This was the name you used to encompass any intimidating male authority figure that was perceived as aggressive. It was easier to lump them all together.
"Alright, Emily. Just until we can contact her relatives," Angerman had said. That turned into the end of the semester and was now becoming the end of the holidays. It was pretty clear that the both of you wanted this to be a permanent living arrangement. It was far different than what you were used to- Traditional Christian Suburbia. Emily would have her relationships, but there was never the permanent father figure you were used to. She wasn't like the mother you were used to either. She was more like an idol turned caretaker, and you loved it.
However, every time she left you, you became afraid, for her and for you. You had already lost all of your immediate family, and Emily's job was very dangerous. She would leave you for days at a time, and the empty apartment made you paranoid.
And now it was Christmas, and she was gone.
Everything was armed and ready-for Emily to come home or for an intruder-and though you hadn't planned on staying up to wait for her, you thought you might as well since you were too scared to sleep. You double check that the alarm system is on, and you move to the kitchen. You look through the fridge.
"Who the fuck ate all the apple sauce?" You mutter to yourself, remembering that it was, in fact, you. You make yourself a cup of tea instead, standing impatiently by the electric kettle as the water heated up. You were hyper aware of everything out of the ordinary when Emily was gone, and this only fed the paranoia. Every. Noise was an unsub. Every noise was THE unsub.
You wanted to text or call someone to make you feel better, but making friends at your new school was difficult. Trusting them was even harder. Friends had always come easy to you, but trust had not and still did not. It took you a while to open up about anything remotely personal, even with family. Before Emily, it was ESPECIALLY family. This meant that all two of your "friendships" at your new school, meaning you had more than one positive interaction with them and feel somewhat attached to them, were very surface level.
For the most part, your relationships with the BAU were like that, too. They tried to pry, but you suspected they were trying to profile you most of the time. You were afraid to open up to any of them, some more than others, but for some reason, you felt yourself wanting to. They had become your new family, but you didn't have to keep this family at an arm's length, also. You still didn't have to keep this family at an arm's length, also. You still did, though.
The water boiled, and you made your tea, leaving the bag in. You sat on the couch, setting the tea on the table. You grabbed the remote and started flipping through the channels. You still weren't sure how to get the menu up on Emily's t.v. You land on a crappy Christmas movie-one of the various Home Alone sequels that everyone hated. You grabbed the mug with both hands, letting you soak up its warmth as you drank it. You feel yourself starting to relax, putting your feet up and curling up on the couch. You set the mug down on the floor, and your eyes start to close.
You wake up to the sound of the alarm going off. THIS IS IT, you think. THIS IS HOW I DIE. You were suprisingly calm about it considering a very similar occurrence had almost resulted in your immediate extinction. You didn't move, didn't even open your eyes. The alarm was disarmed, and there was a hand on your shoulder. You flinched under the unexpected human contact. You open your eyes and look up.
It's Emily.
She is still in her work clothes, and her hair is a little messy from falling asleep on the flight home. She's smiling, happy but tired. She's turned the television off, and the apartment is silent.
"C'mon, sleepyhead. I fly all the way here, and I don't even get a 'hello'?" Emily teases. You get up, and she hugs you. You two don't say much. Somewhere in the middle of the tight, comforting hug, you start silently crying. You hope she doesn't notice, but you know that she did. She goes to pull away and ask what's wrong, but you don't want her to see your face.
"What's going on?" She asks gently. You say nothing and shake your head behind her shoulder. "Do you know what's wrong?" You shake your head again. She pats your back and just holds you for a while.
"I'm sorry," you sniffle.
"You don't need to apologize. What are you apologizing for?"
"Crying, I guess. I'm sorry. I-I don't know."
"There's nothing wrong with crying. You know that, right? Do you know that?"
You shrug your shoulders. Emily holds you at an arm's length and looks you in the eyes. You try to break eye contact. Eye contact always makes it worse. "There is nothing wrong with you. You did nothing wrong. Alright?"
You nod. She hugs you again, and then the both of you move over to the sad, fake tree you both had bought from Hobby Lobby. You opened your presents and listened to her stories from her latest cases. You grabbed some blankets and huddled together by the tree.
It felt like family.
It felt safe and warm. It was comforting and happy. That was all you wanted, happy, and you had found it with your strange new family. It was the happiest you'd been in years, despite all that had happened to you.
It was just the two of you, and that was all you needed in the moment.