Emily woke to a jarring noise and it took her a long time to wake up enough to realize it was her alarm. Groaning, she rolled over and shut it off, her head pounding.
8:30. It felt way too early to be moving.
Trying to remember what day it was, and why her head felt like it had been pummelled with a 2x4, Emily sat up. The room spun as she moved and her stomach gurgled unpleasantly. Putting a hand over her mouth, the brunette jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom.
An hour later, Emily was nursing a cup of coffee and a horrible hangover. At least she had discovered the reason for her headache and nausea when she had entered her kitchen to find several empty beer bottles and an almost empty bottle of gin.
It was when she picked up her phone that Emily felt all the pain from the previous night rush back. She felt her chest constrict and her breathing become laboured. It was a physical pain, brought on by an emotional upheaval.
There were text messages. There were a lot of them. Back and forth between them. They played out like a poorly written high school drama. Emily could see in her messages how the alcohol affected her. As she had more to drink, the messages became harsher and crueller. They had aimed to hurt instead of to help. To break instead of fix.
The responses had become longer and more intense, the broken emotion showing through clearly in each one. Emily began to replay the arguments in her head. They had been almost non-stop for the past month. Every moment spent talking to her had been a fight. They couldn't see each other without feeling anger and frustration. Last night had been the final straw.
"We need to talk."
"Not tonight. I have an appointment early tomorrow morning. I really just want to go to sleep in my own bed after a week of sleeping in a shitty hotel room."
"If not tonight, then when?"
The other woman looked up at Emily. "I don't know." She turned away and headed for her car.
"What's the appointment for?" Emily stared at the now still figure. "Is it with him?"
Anger flashed in the blue eyes as the woman's head whipped around to glare at Emily. "It's none of your business." Her voice shook with fury as she spoke.
"I think it is. I think I have a right to know what guys my girlfriend is sleeping with behind my back." Emily struggled to keep her voice steady. There. She had said it.
The blonde's face flashed anger momentarily before it changed to display a perfect calm. "Oh, well, if that's the issue I'll make sure to fax you a list later tonight."
"What, no denials? I expected a heated display where you declare that I'm the only one for you. That you love me. That despite our recent fighting, we'll get through this. No? I'm disappointed."
There was a flash of hurt behind those blue eyes before the calm was again displayed. "Well, sorry to disappoint Em. But I'm no liar."
Emily fought with her brain as her head tried to wrap itself around the blonde's words. Was that an omission? For all her concerns, Emily realized she hadn't actually thought the blonde had been cheating on her. Perhaps some flirting, but she wouldn't go that far. And with a guy no less? With this guy? A short, scruffy southerner who couldn't speak without slurring his words?
She couldn't speak. Emily Prentiss had been rendered speechless. She stood in the parking lot of the FBI building and stared at her lover. Her girlfriend. The woman she loved. And she didn't say a word.
The blonde gave her a humourless smile that was almost a grimace. Then she turned and walked to her SUV, got in, and drove away. And Emily was left standing there.
Left to herself, at home, Emily had been the one to initiate the text messages. She had been intending to apologize. But instead she had sent a single word.
Why?
The response hadn't come quickly. Emily had just decided to call her when her phone lit up and buzzed, signalling the blonde's response.
Why? I don't know. Because I couldn't be with you anymore I guess.
Emily let out a sob when she read the message. She knew her behaviour over the past few months had been less than stellar toward her girlfriend. But times had been rough. She walked into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge. It was only the first of many to be consumed that night.
The texts had continued, late into the night, getting faster and fiercer, until they had been so filled with fury and rage that they had ended.
Emily's eyes filled with tears. She sat now, the next morning at her kitchen table and reread the final few texts sent between the two.
Now at least I know why you wanted to keep our relationship quiet. Not because we're both women, or because of the work dynamic, but so you could have your little exploits on the side!
If that's what you think, go ahead. You obviously don't know me as well as you think you do. Some profiler you are. You can't even figure your girlfriend out!
At least I'm not fucking some asshole detective! I can't believe I stayed with you this long!
Then I won't make you suffer anymore. It's over, Emily.
Fine. I'm done. Have a good life with your new man.
When she finished reading the messages, Emily took her phone and threw it across the room. Her shoulders shook as her body was wracked with sobs. The blonde was the best thing that ever happened to her, and she had lost her.
***
Six months had passed from the day of the breakup. Every day since, the two had pretended nothing was wrong. They had been courteous to each other in public, but only spoke when the case required it. The team knew of their relationship and recognized their change in dynamic. But, being the group the close family they were, no one spoke of it. The two women were never partnered together in the field, and there was little difference in the way it affected their work. But every night, Emily still lay awake in bed, thinking about what she had done wrong. Every time she saw the blonde, she was reminded of how badly she had screwed things up.
It had taken some time, but now, six months after that horrific day, she had found a way to cope. A way to express herself.
She had lost herself in music again; something she hadn't done since she was a teenager. A week after the breakup, Emily had been cleaning out her apartment, clearing out all thoughts of her ex-lover when she had happened upon her old guitar. It had been in need of new strings and a little TLC, but it had been worth it. There was no better way to release emotion than writing a song.
It was a slow process. At first, she just dabbled in her old music. Struggled to make hands remember the way to move up and down the frets. Struggled to regain the old callous that had been ever present on her fingertips as a teenager. But as she played more, she began to feel herself settling into an old rhythm. And she began to sing again.
At first, that was a harder task to accomplish than picking up the guitar had been. For years she hadn't sung anything other than an old pop tune in the shower. But, like the guitar, she soon felt her old skill returning.
And now, six months later, Emily had written half a dozen songs, reworked covers of others' music, and played live at a nearby restaurant's open-mic night. It was her solace; every Saturday night when she wasn't away on a case she could be found there, singing and playing the guitar. The restaurant was more of a lounge than a formal eatery. Not quite a restaurant, not quite a bar, it was just a comfortable place to go for a bite to eat. Being a ten minute walk from her apartment made it the perfect place to stop at after a tough case, or when she just wanted some good BBQ wings. She had come here often to listen to the music. The music which she was now a part of.
She hadn't told the rest of the team, but of course, Morgan and Garcia had badgered her to figure out why she never went out with them on Saturdays anymore. And who could keep a secret from Garcia?
They had shown up one night and skulked at a table in the back until Emily had gotten up on the stage. Then they placed themselves front and center to the stage for all four of Emily's songs. She had joined them for a drink and some marvellous BBQ wings afterward, and they congratulated her on managing to keep such an extraordinary talent hidden for so long.
And it was from that point on that Emily began to heal.
She was finally able to live life, no longer trapped in the haze of the past. Her music was freeing her, allowing her to write down all the emotion, pain and turmoil that her consciousness wouldn't even recognize the existence of.
Sometimes, Morgan and Garcia would come watch her perform. Each time she got off the stage, they would be right there beside her, congratulating her, smiles stretching to their ears in happiness. They recognized the change in their friend. They saw her becoming who she had once been. They saw her moving on.
But despite the positive changes, Emily was still troubled. There was one thing holding her back. One thing preventing her from closure. Emily knew she had never expressed her feelings properly to her former lover. So one evening, after a particularly successful performance, Emily went home to her apartment and changed her routine. Instead of having a glass of wine in front of the television, trying to goad her body into sleep, she sat instead with a glass of water at her desk. She pulled out a regular pad of paper and a pen and she began to write.
She didn't use her laptop. She never did when writing music. The technology seemed to take away a bit of the feeling and emotion that was always present in her music. The pureness of the lyrics seemed stronger when scratched out in longhand.
It was 3:35am when Emily finally laid her pen down. She had four pages of scribbles in which lay barely decipherable lyrics. Reading over it one last time, Emily knew she had summarized everything she needed to say. And with that realization, her head fell forward and she fell asleep at her desk. She slept a dreamless, peaceful sleep for the first time in six months.
***
Tonight was the night. Three weeks after writing the song, and she was finally going to perform it. She had battled with herself over the preparation for it, feeling one moment that she was ready, and the next, that it was far too soon to be performing. It wasn't ready.
However, Emily made the mistake of showing Garcia the lyrics. And later that week, Emily was preparing to sing the song at her next performance. Sometimes, you didn't even realize how Garcia did it, but she always managed to get her way.
Emily stood to the side of the stage, battling her nerves as she remembered Garcia's reaction to the lyrics.
"Em, my God, how did you write this!? It's beautiful!"
"Garcia, it's really not that great, I just write whatever I'm feeling at the moment." This wasn't a lie; it was just a bend of the truth. She had been thinking of nothing but this song for months. It had just taken her some time to start writing it.
"Seriously Emily, I need to hear this! When are you performing it?"
"I'm not sure yet. I think it still needs a bit of work-"
"Oh come on Emily. If you try and perfect it, you'll never perform it. It's full of emotion now, why try and change it? I'm free Saturday night and was planning on coming to see you. Perform it this weekend, ok sugar?"
She squeezed Emily's shoulder and then walked off down the halls of the BAU, leaving Emily there to contemplate her words.
And here she was, less than a week later, ready to perform this song. The one song that needed to be written. The one song that needed to be heard.
As the artist on the stage belted out a final note, Emily saw Garcia walking in the restaurant. Glancing over, the blonde tech spotted Emily, gave her a huge smile and two thumbs up before taking a seat at a table in the back.
That should have been her first clue. Garcia always came with someone, never alone. And she always sat in the front, near the stage. After all, this made it easier for her to shoot funny faces at her while she performed.
But Emily was focused on setting herself up on stage, and as a result, didn't notice these changes in Garcia's behaviour. And she certainly didn't notice Garcia's friend, entering the restaurant reluctantly to sit next to the tech.
And as always happened, when she started to play, Emily stopped thinking. She stopped seeing the crowd in front of her and stopped hearing the mindless chatter of the people around her. She entered her own world and began to play from the heart.
She was doing a set of five songs tonight. The first two were of her own creation. The next two were a jazzy rendition of Waiting on the World to Change, and an unplugged version of Defying Gravity.
Before starting her final song, she glanced over at Garcia. She was looking for support; after all, it was she who had convinced Emily to play this song tonight. But just as she spotted Garcia and sent a smile her way, she realized why her friend had pushed so hard to have her play this song tonight.
Garcia had brought someone along. Someone who Emily had never thought she would see outside of work again. All of a sudden, singing this song didn't seem like such a good idea. Her smile disappeared and the brunette could feel her hands become sweaty. She felt like there was a spotlight on her, and she became uncomfortable. But Garcia caught the brunette's eyes and gave her one slow nod.
Emily closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She could do this. Without opening her eyes, Emily began to strum the first chords of the melancholy tune. It was an easy rhythm, and she extended the intro to the song to give herself time to sink back into her world. And by the time she started to sing, she was there. Everyone else was gone, and Emily was singing the words that she had needed to say for a long time.
Shut me out completely, that would not be such a sin
Lock up every entry, make sure that there's no way for me to get in
Won't try to pry them open, never mind knock upon your doors
Truth is that there's no reason for me to see you face anymore
Taking a deep breath, Emily continued, knowing now just how true these words rang.
But I need your ears and I need them now
I've got something to say
I'm not here today, to win you back
Just to remind you that
Sure as the rain starts to fall
Yes, I'll always remember you dear
And though we don't talk anymore
I was crazy for you
Yes I was crazy for you
That's for sure
As she strummed out her steady rhythm, Emily opened her eyes and looked right into a pair of blue orbs. They were staring at her with a sense of what? Pride? Sorrow? Longing? There were too many emotions in those eyes, and Emily knew her eyes mirrored the same. With a deep breath she looked away, and continued to sing.
Nothing's ever easy, I think we both know that is true
I was convinced you loved me
And I was pretty sure that I loved you too
When was our final moment?
What was your favourite might-have-been?
When was my fatal error?
What changed the way you thought of me ever since?
Cause I made you smile and I made you laugh
I made nice gestures and surprised you enough
And I made you come, but I made you cry
I wish this was true but I'm not going to lie
So sure as the rain starts to fall
Yes, I'll always remember you close
And though we don't touch anymore
I was crazy for you
Yeah, I'm still crazy for you
That's for sure
I'm still crazy for you
Still crazy for you
Emily finished the song and found a peaceful moment of silence before the crowd burst into applause. As she stood up and bowed, she blinked, and found she had tears in her eyes. Blinking them away, she left the stage, to find herself facing a blonde.
Garcia spoke softly, "She's out back, where it's quiet." Then she patted her friend on the shoulder and went back to sit at her table.
Emily watched her friend go and felt a surge of pain. She didn't want to face that person. Not today, not ever. But she had to. And so, with a sigh, and a grit of her teeth, Emily packed up her guitar and walked to the back of the restaurant, exiting onto the street behind it.
It was a clear night; stars were shining brightly out of the sky at her, and Emily took a moment to really see them and all the beauty they held, before closing the door behind her and looking around for the last person she wanted to see.
"Hey." A soft voice spoke from her left side.
Emily turned to face the voice and saw those blue eyes; the same ones that had haunted her for months.
"Hey."
"You came out here. I wasn't sure you would. I probably wouldn't have if I were you."
"I'm not sure why I did," Emily admitted. "I guess I just need closure."
"I lied." The blonde spoke quickly, as though she were dying to get the words out of her mouth.
"About what?" Emily was genuinely confused at the direction this conversation was going.
"That day, in the parking lot. I lied. About it all. I was just angry! I wanted to make you hurt, and I didn't think about the consequences. Then, afterwards, I didn't know how to tell you..." Her voice trailed off as she lost her confidence. Her head dropped and she looked at her feet. "I'm sorry," she finally mumbled.
"You lied?" Emily was shell-shocked, she didn't, no, she couldn't believe that the blonde was telling her this.
"Yes. I never slept with him. We went out for drinks once or twice. But I was never interested in him like that! It was always you. But when we were fighting, I realized how much it hurt you to see me with him. And then, in the parking lot, I realized that if I said I'd slept with him, it would break you. So I said it. And I regret it so much. Because I never stopped loving you, not ever!"
The blonde was sobbing now, and Emily looked at her, still frozen with shock. She had come here tonight, to complete her healing process. To finally get over the blonde, to have closure; and now she realized that it was a futile attempt. She would never be rid of that woman. No matter how far she moved or how much time passed, the blonde had left an irremovable mark on her soul.
Her own lyrics resounded in her head and she realized her subconscious already knew what her consciousness had refused to admit until this moment. I'm still crazy for you.
"Please, Emily, say something!" The blonde pleaded, eyes still flowing with tears.
It was with those words that Emily realized she had been standing still, staring at the blonde for over a minute, in total silence.
"I don't know what to say," answered Emily truthfully. "I don't know what I feel." Her eyebrows furrowed as she struggled to give the blonde an honest answer.
"You make me crazy. When I'm with you, you drive me insane! But when I'm without you, I drive myself insane. These past few months have been hell, and I think I finally realized tonight just how much my life still revolves around you. It's always been you. And I don't think that's ever going to change." Emily looked right into the eyes of her former lover as she spoke, and saw a flicker of hope rise in them.
"You don't forgive me, though." It wasn't a question.
"No. Not yet." The two women stared at each other for a long time without moving, letting their tears run dry.
After what felt like hours, the blonde finally moved forward. She stepped close to Emily and reached out for her hand. When Emily felt fingers on the back of her hand, she turned it over, and found the warm touch of her lover's grasp waiting for her. They embraced, and Emily heard a whisper in her ear.
"Emily Prentiss, I have always loved you, and that will never change. I will spend the rest of my life making up for my mistakes."
Emily sighed before she whispered a comment of her own. "Jennifer Jareau, you make me absolutely crazy. But I can't imagine life without you when I love you as much as I do. So I'll take crazy over empty, because that's all I am without you."
JJ let out a weak chuckle, clouded by sobs as she moved her hand up to brush the side of Emily's face. At the touch of her hand, Emily leaned forward and kissed JJ softly. They broke apart after a moment, gave each other a small smile, and walked hand in hand back into the restaurant.
Garcia was waiting at her table patiently when the two walked back in. Her eyes flickered briefly to their clasped hands and she smiled briefly.
"So?" she asked, with the air of one rather bored by her surroundings. When neither answered, she looked up from her drink and gave both of them knowing looks. "Are we together again? Is everything good?"
Emily looked over at JJ and knew that what she had said was true. There was no way she was able to live without her, and she wasn't going to try to. But she would be a fool if she said things were good.
"Together, yes. Good?" Emily paused and looked at JJ. Both knew they had a long, winding road ahead of them. "We will be." Emily wouldn't have it any other way.
A/N: That song actually belongs to the wonderfully talented Paolo Nutini. I was listening to it the other day, and it caused this story to play out in my head. I decided I should finally put it on paper and give my head a rest. Hope you enjoyed it, and I would appreciate any feedback you can give me :)
