Her heavy breathing. The angry thump of fists impacting leather. Those sounds echoed quietly in the otherwise empty room.
Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, running down her skin, soaking her shirt, not that she would have noticed. She was too focused on taking out all her frustrations on the punching bag. The hundred pound bag swinging and bouncing on the chain that held it suspended from the ceiling, punishing the bag for everything that had happened over the weeks.
It wasn't fair.
It wasn't fair that Hotch and Jack had to lose Hailey. It wasn't fair that they'd been called in before they'd really had a chance to grieve. It wasn't fair that some guy could snap and take four people's lives before they could stop him, just because his fiancee broke up with him.
It wasn't fair that her boyfriend was suddenly never home when she needed him. It wasn't fair that he was distant, his mind still at the office, even when he was home. It wasn't fair that, on top of it all, the first good thing that had happened in weeks had actually been a lie.
She felt a combination of anger and sadness rising up her chest, getting caught somewhere near her heart, making it hard to breathe. She did her best to choke it back, hitting harder so she wouldn't have to deal with the clamouring flood of emotions.
She was so focused on taking out her frustrations on the punching bag, she didn't realize that someone had entered the room. He stood at the far end of the room, far enough that he could watch her, but not near enough to distract her. Though he really didn't think anything short of the apocalypse could distract her right now.
As he watched, he noticed she wasn't exactly punching, she was simply hitting wherever she could reach.
"You're doing it wrong," he told her, though he believed she already knew.
She ignored him; not even bothering to acknowledge his presence, continuing to punch the hundred pound bag with fervour. Her punches were weakening, her muscles were aching and sore, but she didn't mind. She'd probably sleep better tonight the more exhausted she was; that was, if she could sleep at all.
She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept; it felt like hundred years ago. She didn't think she could handle one more night of pretending to rest, just so she wouldn't have to talk to him for fear of lashing out and ruining the rare time they got to spend together.
He let several more moments pass without saying anything. But he knew her well enough to know from the way she was hitting that there was something more going on than just letting off a little steam. "Em, what's wrong?" he asked gently.
"Oh, suddenly you care?" she snapped, landing another forceful hit. She hadn't meant to lash out at him like that, but it seemed that she was more upset than she'd first realized and he was the only one around to bear the brunt of it.
"What?" he said, taken aback.
She didn't bother to give him an explaination, she didn't really want to talk to anyone that night. Pretending that she hadn't heard him, she concentrated on the punching bag again. What was he doing here? The one night she wanted to be alone, to be without him, he had to show up. Where was he when she needed him? As she processed her thoughts, unconsciously, her punches grew more forceful.
"What did you mean by that?" he asked again. She noticed the hurt and confusion in his voice and she almost felt bad for lashing out.
Almost.
"You should know the answer."
He frowned. She'd never lashed out like this at him... He wracked his brain, trying his hardest to think of something he may have done to upset her, even inadvertently. But he continued to come up blank. "Baby, I don't know what you're talking about..."
"Maybe you'd know what's wrong if you were ever home."
He sucked in a breath, surprised, but not really. He'd been worried this was coming after he hadn't even discussed the matter with her before taking the job, but she hadn't said anything for so long, he'd just figured she was fine with it. "So, this is about me being unit chief..." he said slowly.
"No!" she said aggravatedly, "This is about you shutting me out."
"Shutting you out?" he repeated, feeling a little stunned. "I haven't been..."
She'd thought she'd feel better once the truth was out in the open, but it only left her feeling more annoyed than ever. She just wanted to get her frustrations out and then they might be able to have a reasonable conversation about it. "Just leave me alone," she said flatly, ignoring the blatant hypocrisy of it.
"Em, please, talk to me," he asked softly.
"Just go away, Derek," she muttered irritatedly. "Go back to your office," she spat, sarcasm and a hint of pain bleeding into the words.
Finally, he'd had enough of it.
He walked purposefully towards her and reached out to grab her arm, spinning her around to face him. For a moment, he was shocked at the resentment and hurt he caught in her eyes. "Baby, what's wrong?" he asked gently again, resisting the urge to pull her into his arms, knowing that it would only aggravate her further. "You can talk to me."
She didn't know whether to laugh or cry at his words. "Talk to you?" she scoffed, "I think you're too busy for me..."
"That's crazy, Em."
"No, that's not crazy. What's crazy is that you're never home; even if you are home, your heart's in the office," she lashed out, "What's crazy is that you get out of bed just to do paperwork after you think I've fallen asleep. And you know what else is crazy? You've been acting more like Hotch than yourself since you took the job."
She hadn't meant for things to go the way they did. She thought she could control herself when it came to her emotions, she had been perfecting the art of compartmentalization for as long as she could remember. Yet, when it came down to the man she loved, she acted like a love-sick puppy who couldn't do anything but think of him.
"You changed, Derek," she added sadly, "We used to talk...a lot. We shared everything, but now, all we share is a bed. And sometimes, you're not even in it."
"Why didn't you say anything?" he asked, feeling his heart break a little for her.
"What was I supposed to say?" she asked desperately feeling the aggravation quickly rise again, "You took the job so the team could stay together, how was I supposed to tell you that I'd rather I came before the job in your mind?"
"You do come first," he insisted, "You've always come first."
She gave an unladlylike snort of disbelief and turned away to resume her assualt on the punching bag. He once again let silence descend between them, debating whether he should quit while he was ahead or dig a little deeper. She obviously wasn't interested in having a heart-to-heart right now, but he could also see that her shields were down and if he didn't push her now, he might never get the full story.
So, he persevered. "There's more to this, isn't there? This isn't just about you feeling neglected?"
"No!" she snapped again, voice a few octaves higher than normal, "And I don't feel neglected, I can handle being on my own."
"Come on, Em," he took a risk, "You say we never talk anymore, so let's talk. Stop deflecting."
"You want to talk?" she said through gritted teeth, "Let's talk about how you weren't there when I needed you. Let's talk about how everything was wrong and you didn't even notice. Let's talk about how it's just so fucked up how you can be so blind to everything that's going on right in front of you."
He sighed, "If you're not going to tell me what's going on, I can't help you... I don't have time to guess what's wrong."
"Of course, you don't have time," she spat, "You never have time for anything but work. Do you know how much it sucks to know that your boyfriend would rather spend his night in the office than to come home to you? I know you're busy, Derek, but do you really have to spend every second you have at work? Ask yourself, are you being fair to me?"
"Baby..."
"Don't you dare 'baby' me!" She sent him a frosty glare. "This isn't fair... I shouldn't have to lose my boyfriend because he got a promotion. Jack shouldn't have to lose his mom in such a horrible way. We shouldn't have to listen to Hailey die over the phone. I shouldn't be excited over something I wasn't sure of... But I really thought..." she trailed off.
"Of course it isn't fair...but that's a liability of the job. It always sucks, it's just sucked a little more lately," he shrugged, "But we've always known things like that were a possibility, it's just something we have to deal with."
The nonchalance with which he spoke irritated her even more. "You talk about like it isn't a big deal! But you don't understand..."
"So, then help me understand," he urged, "I'm trying here, I just don't know what more you want me to say..." He tried not to get angry with her, knowing that she was emotionally fragile and doing her best to hide it, but they were both stubborn and likely to keep things bottled up and sometimes tempers flared.
"Forget it, Derek."
"Now, who's the one shutting down?" he lashed out, a little harsher than he intended. He tried his best to understand what was going on with her – with them – but she wouldn't let him in. They had been at this back and forth, but she just wouldn't tell him what went wrong. How was anyone supposed to understand anything when she wouldn't open up?
"Don't you dare blame me for this!" she scowled. "We both know we wouldn't have this problem if you didn't act distant and aloof."
"Fine! I'm sorry I neglected you because I was pre-occupied with work. Would you please just tell me what's wrong, baby?" he pleaded, "I really want to know. You're not the kind who loses her cool easily. This isn't just about us, is it?"
"It's never just about us..." she said softly and, for the first time that night, he watched the anger fall away and all that was left was pain. She leaned back against the wall, running a hand through her hair, looking both physically and emotionally broken down. "Nothing ever goes right for us," she added, her voice barely audible, "I just thought that maybe, for once, something had..."
The sudden change in her demeanour was almost disconcerting and he began to wonder if maybe things weren't so much worse than he'd thought. He didn't know whether to go to her and comfort her or if she was still angry and would push him away, his indecision leaving him rooted to the spot.
"None of this would ever have happened if the whole world hadn't decided to fall apart at once..." she muttered.
He wasn't sure whether or not she was speaking to him, but he sensed her starting to shut down again and gently urged, "Tell me..."
"It's not going to change anything."
"Tell me," he insisted gently. He moved over to sit close to her, holding her hand for the first time that night. "Let me in, Em."
She looked at him sadly and sighed, turning her attention to stare absently at the ceiling. "This is so stupid," she lamented tiredly. "I should have known. I shouldn't have been excited over something that was never there..."
"What were you excited about?"
"The baby..."
For a moment, he felt as if his heart were both beating furiously and had stopped altogether. "The baby?" he repeated slowly, the word echoing around in his head. "You're pregnant?"
She sniffled softly and he looked over to see tears trickling down her cheeks. That's when what she'd said fully permeated his brain. Never there...
"No," she shook her head wistfully. "I just thought I was. I mean, I saw the symptoms... I missed my period, I've been having what I thought was morning sickness...not that you'd have noticed since you were never home."
He caught the hint of resentment in her voice and he couldn't help but feel a sense of remorse towards his girlfriend. She was right; it wasn't fair of him to neglect her due to work. He should have been home more often. He should have been there when she needed him.
"I just thought that something good might happen..." she sniffled softly, resting her hand where the baby might be if she were pregnant. "I thought this would make us happy. I might actually not lose you to work if I had the baby..."
"You're not going to lose me," he said earnestly.
"I'm sure that's what Hotch said to Hailey..." she murmured, a hint of bitterness in her voice once again, "And look what happened..." She sighed sadly. "It's so easy to lose everything you've ever loved...I just thought a family might make you realize that."
She shook her head, wiping away her tears as if angry with herself. "But maybe if you weren't even there to notice that something had changed in the first place...this is probably for the best. I wouldn't want you to feel tied down because of a baby..."
Those words were like a knife to his heart and the fact that she actually seemed to believe them just twisted the handle. He knew she had to be in a really dark place if she thought that were true, if she thought a baby wouldn't change everything.
"You say that like the baby would mean nothing to me," he commented dejectedly. "And you know that's not true. You know I'd love the baby more than anything else in world and you know I'd do everything to make you and the baby happy. Please tell me you know that," he pleaded.
"I can't," she shook her head sadly, "I feel like I'm losing you. You've been shutting me out, you've acted distant. Some nights I lay awake wondering if you're trying to break up with me, but don't know how to. So, you do everything you can to push me to the edge..."
"You don't think that."
"I do... I wish I didn't," she choked back a sob, "Tell me that's not true, Derek. Please tell me that I'm wrong... I don't want to lose you."
"I don't want to lose you either," he insisted, "That's the last thing I'd ever want and if I'd known you felt like this..." He shook his head; to be honest, it hurt him to know that she felt that way. "Be honest," he whispered, "Do you still want this – want us – to work?"
"Of course, I do," she said vehemently, "If you even think I don't, then maybe..."
"So, tell me what I have to do to prove to you that I do too. I can only say it so many times...I tell you I love you and I mean it, I tell you I want to be with you and I mean it. What do I have to do to make you believe that?" He didn't mean for it to sound angry, but that's how it came out.
Seeing the look on her face, his heart clenched, suddenly overwhelmed with worry that she was going to break up with him because she was tired of putting up with everything.
When she remained silent, he became more nervous and afraid of what might be coming. He was praying and hoping with every fibre of his being that he hadn't inadvertently ruined the best thing that had ever happened to him.
"Emily?"
"You can't promise that it won't happen again..."
"I can," he insisted firmly, needing her to see that he was serious about making them work. "I can promise that none of this will ever happen again. I can promise that I will never shut you out again. I'll be there when you need me, Em," he promised. "Believe me, we can make us work. You're the best thing that ever happened to me."
"I feel the same way about you, but can you really be sure that it won't happen again?" she asked. "I don't know if I could handle it if the world came crashing down for a second time and you're not there to help me pick up the pieces..."
"I'll be there," he said determinedly. "I didn't mean to shut you out. I just got overwhelmed with all the work and I didn't know how to tell you without bringing you down with me. Please, give me another chance. We have to work this out."
"I don't know, Derek..." she sighed, "I'm so scared..."
He sighed dejectedly; he didn't want her to agree to work their problems out because he was so insistent. He decided to let her make that decision. "I'm not gonna say I can't live without you because I can, I just don't want to. I can still live without you, but I'll never be happy. All I'm asking for is another chance to prove that you're the most important thing to me.
"Remember when we talked about our future? We'd move back to Chicago to live near to my mom and we'd have a couple of the most beautiful kids... I never forgot that. I still want that to happen, but if you think we're not worth it, I can live with that." As he waited for her answer, he prayed to God that his last ditch effort to win her back didn't fail.
He hadn't realized that he had been holding his breath as he waited for her answer. When she finally answered, he couldn't believe his ears.
"I won't be happy without you either..." she whispered softly, almost timidly. "But I don't know if I can believe you anymore... You don't understand how much it hurt me to think that you didn't care..."
"Emily, please believe me..." He held her hand tighter, desperately trying to make her see that he didn't want her to leave. "I still love you." He watched her biting her lip contemplatively, tear tracks still staining her face. He slowly let out a breath; as much as it might pain him to do so, he had to do the right thing. "I love you...which is why I don't want you to stay and be unhappy. I don't want to lose my best friend. You can go...but I hope you stay. I think we can work on this – on us, but I don't want you to do it just for me."
"Derek, I..."
"It's okay," he nodded understandingly. His grip on her hand unconsciously tightened, as if trying to memorize the feel and the warmth of her hand in his. Pressing one last kiss on her forehead, he forced himself to smile, "Just remember, even if we're not together, I'll still be there for you. I'll still love you and I'm sorry I made such a mess out of everything."
As she felt the warmth of his hand slip away from hers, she realized that she wanted – needed – them to work. He was and always would be the best thing that ever happened to her and she was going to let that slip though her fingers just because of fear? What happened to her? She wasn't the kind of person who gave in just because she was afraid. She must have been crazy.
"Derek James Morgan, don't you dare walk out that door!" she called just as as he reached the threshold.
He turned back to look at her with an eyebrow raised in question, not daring to believe what he so desperately wanted to be true for fear that he'd only have his heart smashed into a million pieces a second time. "Emily..."
She scrambled to her feet and rushed after him, launching herself into his arms. "Don't go," she whispered, "We can work on this – we have to work on this. Things have to change, but...I don't want you to go."
For the second time that night, he felt as if his heart were both beating furiously and had stopped altogether. "Are you sure?" he asked.
"Yes, I don't want to lose you," she asserted. "But this doesn't mean that everything's fine. We have a lot to work on..."
"So, what are the rules? Tell me and I'll do it...I'll do anything."
"I don't forgive you," she said flatly, "Not yet... You hurt me and I'm still mad. We both made some mistakes...but we can fix things if we both change. I shouldn't have kept things bottled up, I should have told you how I felt. But you should have been there to know things were falling apart..."
"I know," he said apologetically, "I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry; let's just agree to never let things get this bad again."
"Never again."
