Of things I'd rather keep in silence, I must sing.
She was back in D.C. and Emily Prentiss sang in the shower, loudly.
All the songs were her own; no top 40 hits for her. The lyrics which always started out nonsensical molded themselves into something worth remembering for real. Her repertoire consisted of anything that was on her mind. All of her innermost thoughts and feelings transformed into song, and she loved every minute of it. Emily had something that occupied her time and managed to keep the fear away for little while.
It all began in Paris, when she accepted the fact that she had no one to talk to. Soon after, she found herself humming an unknown song while washing her hair. Then one day she noticed she was mouthing words to the mystery tune while she was shaving her legs. Eventually, she let her voice go. The next few weeks were filled with off-key renditions of "Fucking Doyle", "I Wanna Go Home", and her all-time favorite "Oh, What Did They Bury?" She didn't care if her neighbors heard her because none of them spoke good enough English to really understand anything. When she went to the market to buy some much needed groceries, she heard the young daughter of her next door neighbor humming the tune to "Fucking Doyle" and she let herself laugh. But then a frantic Emily contemplated going back into the apartment and packing up her belongings just in case someone recognized Doyle's name, but she didn't let her fear get the best of her. On the way back from the market, with her hands full of bags of food and random items, Emily thought of new songs based on the ways in which France reminded her of her team. That night, she began on the pop song "Baguettes as Tall as Morgan" and "Rossi's Next Wife Wears Designer Clothes". Her last song from her time in Paris was a French tune called "France Be My Home" that she happened to finish two days before leaving for Italy.
After she moved to Rome, Emily really began delving into the world of music. She craved to learn more about her new interest and even found herself in a dusty library listening to a version of a 12th century song that reminded her too much of how she believed Doyle felt about her. Soon after her musical research, Emily's voice gained some strength and her shower became a real stage for her to belt out some serious tunes. She began with "Mr. Writer Italiano" as a tribute to Rossi. A fairly horny night prompted a soulful, deep tune she called "A First Step", which was about her desire to have an impromptu night with Hotch. Another horny night brought up an energetic song named "Boiling", all about Morgan's high body temperature. During another sexually frustrating night, she finished "Facts and Figures" and "Da Vinci Who?" and decided to change her hobby. A recommendation to an online Scrabble site allowed her to leave the world of music for a while. Emily still sang the old favorites in the shower, but the music went on the back burner as she connected with the user named Cheeto Breath. A small, unexpected moment in the form of a computer search brought back old feelings of fear and anger. When she found out that it was only Penelope Garcia, Emily went back to her songwriting. Three nights after receiving the all clear, two new songs were ready. One was an angry ballad called "Solo" and the other was a peppy number called "Penny for Your Thoughts". Life in Rome was good for the most part. Learning that she would have to leave soon, Emily became depressed over her new life of constant international movement. She left Italy with a sad, fairly controlled aria called "Cheesy Words" and didn't sing for a while after moving to Spain.
Her time in Spain was short, but she managed to find some music in herself. If she had a guitar, her ode to Seaver, "Tal Vez Mi Hermanita", would have been a danceable experience. "Morena" came about when she was thinking about people who may not even know she was dead. To fill up her time and to reflect, Emily purchased a journal and began the task of writing down all of her songs. Thinking about the good times she had with her BAU team, Emily wrote "Make Me Smile", a song that actually made her cry. She was just finishing "Don't Think About It" when she got the call to come back home.
Emily hated that they had to stay in a motel. The walls were thin in the main part of the room, but seemed to be close to paper thin in the bathroom. But the day had been rough and Emily wanted to sing about the uncooperative locals and the stress her team was under. Well aware of the embarrassment she was feeling, Emily took a deep breath, got into the shower, and began to sing.
She completed "Loco Locals" first, smiling at the way her voice sounded in the small bathroom. Then she went on to "Fucking Doyle" and ended her shower concert with "France Be My Home". As she dried off, Emily heard a knock on the door. Looking through the peephole and seeing that no one was there, she curiously opened the door to see a cup of tea with a packet of honey and a slice of lemon on a tray on the floor.
"I wasn't that bad," Emily said to the hallway. The embarrassed feeling came back when she finally realized that someone had actually heard her. "I hope it was just the night maid."
When the rest of the team showed up for breakfast the next morning, no one mentioned her late night concert. She wasn't embarrassed anymore, just curious. Emily wanted someone to say something but no one seemed to have an opinion.
But then, when she was with Hotch talking to the local cops, she could have sworn he was saying one of her lyrics about how the locals didn't know everything. At lunch, Reid happened to be on a rant about late in life musical lessons. JJ joined in that while not every adult is made to sing, she did know someone who had a decent voice. After they finished the case, Rossi told her that screaming at the unsub could really mess with her vocal cords. While they drove back to the motel, Emily saw that Morgan was downloading a phone app that allowed him to make his own ringtones; he began with a poorly done version of "Fucking Doyle". It wasn't until Emily went back to her room that she made a call.
"Garcia?"
"Yes, pop princess?" Emily heard the bright smile through the phone.
"Do you have any recording equipment?"
"I am getting it all ready for you now," Garcia said. She received a low quality recording of Emily's singing that morning and was determined to find a way to hear the real thing.
"Thanks a lot, Garcia," Emily replied. She was not angry. The team wanted to know how she got through her time away from them and she was going to tell them in her own way. But she was going to leave some songs out for the sake of the team.