Heridas
I'm having a really rough night and this is a result of that. Trigger warning galore on this thing. If you're triggered by talk of suicide, depression, or self harm, I suggest you exit this story now. Also, sex. More specifically phone sex between two women.
I hit the send button before I even realized what the hell I was doing. It's after 3 am in London. Part of me hopes she answers but the rational part hopes like hell her phone is on silent and I don't wake her up.
I drop my phone on the coffee table; the noise it makes is amplified by the fact that my house is completely silent. It almost echoes, that's how quiet and empty my house is right now.
I grab the glass next to my phone and realize it's empty. I'm not sure when that happened but I do know it's the third time I've emptied it since I walked in the door an hour ago. The bottle next to the glass is half full and looking at it, I've come to the conclusion that before the night is over, it will be completely empty. At this point, I say screw the glass and take a gulp of the whiskey and cringe as it burns my throat.
My phone still hasn't made a noise, maybe she's really asleep. I pick it up to see if I actually sent the text or if I just wish I had.
I need you…
Nope, I sent it. Why did I send it? She made her choice, granted it was after I made mine, but she made it. She showed up at Rossi's, watched me marry the 'man of my dreams' (I actually hear myself scoff at the thought), and then left the next morning on a flight to London. She took Easter's offer but I don't think she took it for the reasons she said she did.
Anyway, here it is the anniversary of my sister's death, the anniversary of the day she took her own life. Of course it would be the one Thursday we're not away on a case. Henry is with his father this week and I'm home alone. I should have gone out with-
My thoughts are stopped by the ringing of my phone; I don't even bother to check the caller ID. Hoping against hope that it's a case.
"Jareau."
"Jennifer…"
God, how I've missed that voice.
"Y-you called?"
Emily chuckles lightly and it makes a small smile spread across my face, "You needed me, I'll always call when you need me. Even if it's at 3 am."
The last sentence sends a pain through me, "I'm so sorry I woke you."
"You didn't wake me, Jennifer. I was actually switching my laundry. No one uses the laundry room at this time of night so it works to my advantage."
I hear a light shuffling on the other end of the phone, followed by a small sigh. I know Emily, she's probably just climbed into a hot bath, she probably couldn't sleep and used the laundry as an excuse.
"Are you gunna talk to me or did you just want to listen to me breathe like a creep, Jareau?"
I laugh at the teasing tone in her voice, "Depends, Prentiss, you have time to talk to me or are you gunna fall asleep in that nice hot bath?"
This time it was her turn to laugh, "You know me too well. What's up, Jennifer?"
"I needed someone and you were the first, and honestly the only, person to come to mind."
"Where's Will?"
"N-no one told you?" I stuttered having taken another swig of whiskey, "I figured you were the first person Penelope called."
"Told me what? Did something happen? Is everyone ok? I can be on a flight in a couple of hours if-"
"Emily, relax. Everyone is fine. Well physically anyway," I take a deep breath before speaking again, "He left me, Em, right after the whole Askari thing."
"Jennifer that was a year ago! Why didn't you tell me?"
I shrug my shoulders, as if she can see it happen. I don't trust my voice right now.
"I can't see you shrug your shoulder, Jen. You have to actually talk. Unless you want to Skype while I'm naked in the bath."
I feel a ball of warmth in my stomach at the suggestion, "I wouldn't object."
"Jennifer…"
"I know, I know. I'm sorry it's just… Today sucks and I'm all alone."
"Shit, I should have called you today! I was so busy at work that I completely forgot what today was. And I really shouldn't have since I had to sign and date about 300 forms. Jennifer, I'm so sorry, Love."
Ugh, she had to go and call me Love. She started doing that when she moved to London; I assume it's more common than things like Baby is here. But whenever she called me Love, it made my heart flutter.
"It's ok, Emily, you have a life."
"That's no excuse. I still should have called you. I'm here now though, I know today is hard for you, talk to me, Jennifer."
She knew how hard today was for me because since the first anniversary after we met, she was the only one to see it affect me. She showed up at my house, completely unaware that it was the anniversary of Ros's death, she told me she knocked for almost 10 minutes and she knew I was home; my car was in the driveway. I've spent every year since I turned 18 the same way, drinking myself into a stupor and cutting into my own skin. The alcohol numbed me and the cutting made me feel again, it was a great combination in my screwed up mind.
When I didn't answer, she used the key she knew I kept inside the planter by the door. I vaguely remember hearing her call out, saying she tried my phone but there was no answer which worried her because I always answer her calls. I remember the sound of her combat boots on the hardwood floor of the hallway leading to my bedroom. I remember the creaking of my bedroom door. I remember knowing it was her but refusing to look at her. I definitely remember the brand new bottle of wine hitting the floor and shattering. I remember the sound of her screaming my name as she saw me sitting in the middle of my bed. I remember the various empty beer bottles littering my floor and bed. I remember the sting of the blade running across my lower abdomen while I could feel her eyes boring into me. I remember her ripping off her t-shirt and racing to the end of my bed and then climbing onto my bed and straddling my thighs. I remember her pushing my hands away and throwing the razor blade on the bedside table. I remember her once white shirt turning pink and then red as she pressed it to my stomach to stop the blood.
"You still there, Jen?"
"Mhm," Is all I can muster.
I remember that was the first time we made love. I remember her getting me in the shower. I remember her staying clothed or well at least in her jeans and bra since her shirt was ruined. She'd had a crush on me for a while, I knew it because I'd overheard her telling Penelope, and I guess she was trying to control herself or something. I remember getting out of the shower and suddenly being very sober, almost too sober. I remember looking in those deep brown eyes as I stood in the middle of my bedroom wrapped in nothing but a towel. I remember the amount of love they held, love that I'd never seen in her eyes for anyone else. I remember leaning forward, wrapping my hands in her shiny, wet, jet black hair, and pulling her lips to mine. I remember her being apprehensive at first but as soon I ran my tongue over her bottom lip, all inhibitions went out the window.
"What are you thinking about, Jennifer?" Her voice pulls me from my thoughts again.
"You. I miss you, Emily. I wasn't lying when I said I needed you."
"Have you done it again?" She speaks softly, almost as if she doesn't want anyone to hear us though we're both alone.
"No but I wanted to. I only got home from the office an hour ago. I knew the longer I stayed away from home, the easier it would be to avoid. But I had to come home at some point and I'm alone. Will moved across town and has a new girlfriend. Henry's with him until Sunday night. Reid has his own stuff going on after Gideon. Pen was out sick. Morgan's doing whatever Morgan does. Hotch took tomorrow off so he could spend a long weekend with Jack. And I don't know Kate well enough to make her deal with me. I wish you were here, Emily. I need you."
I hear a soft moan, one that I probably wasn't supposed to hear. She knows exactly what I mean now.
"Do you want me to come home, Jennifer?"
"London is your home now, Emily. I can't pull you away from that." I swallow the fact that I really wanted to scream yes.
"No, you are my home. Jennifer, I'm serious, I will be on the first plane I can get a ticket for. Say the word, Jennifer."
"Tell me what you'd do if you were with me right now, Emily."
I didn't even bother to go to my room; I knew no one would come knocking on my door. Instead I kick off my boots, unbutton my blouse to get more comfortable, and stretch out on the couch. I can tell by the intake of breath I heard, that Emily needs me as much as I need her.
"Emily," I almost cried out as my fingers graze over the scars on my stomach.
"Where are you?"
"The couch, I just laid down."
I hear her take another deep breath, "I wish I was there. Hovering over you as I run my hand along your side, I know how much it relaxes you."
She's right, most people like having their hair played with or their back rubbed, I'd rather someone, more specifically Emily, run their hand and fingers up and down my ribcage. I put the phone on speaker and lay it on my chest as the hand that was running along my scars travels up my side, just like Emily would do.
"I'd start at your hip," She knows well enough that I'm probably doing everything she says she would, picturing her as I go. "Slowly, my fingers would creep all the way up, pausing for just a second on each rib."
I hear another moan, I wonder if she's doing the same thing to herself imagining it's my body she's touching.
"When my fingers make it to your bra, I'd reach up and pull the strap down your arm a bit. Then, I'd slowly walk my fingers the length of your collar bone, down the middle of your chest, and into the valley of your breasts, before pulling your bra down."
"Emily," It's more of a moan this time as I expose my own breasts to the cool air of my living room and my nipples begin to harden almost instantly.
"Then I'd lean forward and follow the same path my fingers just took; only this time, I'd use my lips and tongue. When I finally get to your breasts, I'd take your nipple into my mouth while my fingers worked the other one."
My hips buck involuntarily at the thought of Emily's mouth on me again after all these years. I swear her touch is burned into my skin.
"I'd spend a few minutes on one breast before I switched to the other. My right hand would slowly make its way from your hip, across your belly, stopping to feel the scars that brought us together. I hate that you had to do that but they're a part of you and I love every single part of you, Jennifer."
There's a pause on both our parts, I'm fighting off tears as I hear her breathing begin to speed up.
"Emily, please." I'm begging and I don't even care how it makes me sound.
"I'd unbutton your pants and slowly drag the zipper down." She pauses again to take a deep breath, "I'd take my mouth of your breast as I look you in the eye while my hands work your pants and panties over your hips and down your legs."
I stare at the ceiling and concentrate as hard as possible, conjuring a picture of her in my mind as I pull my pants and underwear from my body before kicking them to the floor.
"Then I'd trail kisses all the way from your ankles, up your soft, smooth calves, over the scar on your left knee from that soccer accident, up your strong thighs. I'd kiss each hip while I spread your legs enough for me to fit between them. I'd look up into your eyes one last time before I lowered myself between your legs. I'd spread you open with my thumbs before licking you from your entrance up to your clit."
We've never done this before, phone sex, but I swear it's like she's right here with me.
"I want to feel your hands in my hair, Jennifer. Scratching my scalp and pulling my hair to bring me closer. When you do, I'd give you one more lick before settling on your clit. I'd wrap my lips around it and suck while flicking it lightly with my tongue."
I breathe in deeply, "Fuck, Emily."
"What do you want me to do next, Jennifer?"
"Fuck me. Please, God, fuck me, Emily."
I can almost hear the smirk in her voice, "Do you want my fingers in your pussy, Jennifer?"
"So bad," I moaned out although I'm not completely sure if I actually got the words out or if it was just a moan.
"You want me to slowly enter you with two fingers?"
This time I don't bother trying to form words, I only moan.
"Do it, Jennifer. Slowly push two fingers into that tight pussy."
Another moan falls from my lips.
She moans, too, "God, I remember how amazing your pussy felt with my fingers in it. Do you remember, Baby?"
"Fuck yes." I moan as I continue to slowly thrust my fingers in and out of myself. "Harder, please."
"I'd pull my fingers out all the way, flatten my tongue and lick you again. When my tongue hit your clit, I'd slam three fingers into you."
"Fuck!" The scream rips from my throat as I roughly enter myself with three fingers, just like Emily would.
"That's it, Jennifer. I'd fuck you nice and hard. I know you love it hard. I can hear how wet you are, Baby. It's so fucking hot."
"E-Emily…"
"Is the phone on speaker?" I mumble my response that it is, "Use your other hand and rub your clit, Baby. Rub it nice and hard while you fuck yourself and imagine it's me."
I'm so close to orgasm that I feel like my body is on fire. The fact that she has this much of an affect over me is ridiculous but I love it.
"Are you gunna cum for me, Jennifer?"
"Y-yes! Fuck me, Emily. Make me cum and scream your name."
"I'd slam my fingers in you and as I pulled them back, I'd curl them and hit that stop, the one that makes you see stars."
I do exactly what she says and much like she said, I begin to see stars dancing before my eyes as my fingers hit my g-spot every time I pull back.
"So f-fuckin' cl- God! Close, Emily."
"Cum for me, Jennifer, cum all over my hand."
That was it, I pulled back one more time and hooked my fingers and I felt my entire body explode with pleasure. I screamed something that sounded vaguely like Emily's name and I could hear her moaning mine.
After what felt like hours, my breathing calmed down enough that I could move again. I brought my hand to my mouth and licked it clean of my own cum. I moaned at the taste.
"Did you just lick your fingers clean?"
"Mhm," I mumbled as my fingers were still in my mouth.
"Christ. That's enough to make me want to cum again." Emily takes a deep breath, "Call out sick tomorrow, I'll be home by 10."
"I love you, Emily."
"I love you, too, Jennifer."
And with that, I fell asleep on the couch, naked from the waist down, my blouse hanging open, bra pulled down under my breasts, and the sounds of Emily breathing over the phone. For the first time since I turned 18, I was able to cope without the help of a razor blade. Thank God for Emily Prentiss.
