I was going back and watching old episodes this week, and I just wasn't quite satisfied with the Prentiss/team reunion (at the beginning of season 7), and I wanted more about how Emily was affected by the separation. So I decided to write my own. Because, why not? I guess it's sort of AU. Also, this is my first time writing anything that anyone else might read, so go easy in the reviews please (although constructive criticism and writing tips are always welcome).
Italics indicate thoughts and internal conversation.
Oh yeah, I (unfortunately) don't own any of the characters or stories associated with Criminal Minds I just get the pleasure of playing with them.
Chapter 1
Emily grunted as she lifted the heavy bale onto the truck bed. What is a nice girl like me doing in a place like this? She asked herself as she leaned against the side of the old pick-up. Looking up, she saw the barn, the cattle, the mud (or what used to be mud before winter hit). She would never have imaged herself hiding on a ranch in the middle of nowhere. Supposedly she was a farm hand, but in reality, that was mostly an excuse for cheap rent and a low profile. She was far out of her comfort zone, but then again, that was the point.
She got through the most of the morning with only a few thoughts of the team. After loading the hay feeders to the brim and breaking the newly formed layer of ice on all the stock tanks, she used her shoulder to slide – or rather, shove – the barn door open. As she stepped outside, the bitter cold permeated every layer. Even the tattered, cream-colored wool sweater she wore over several layers of flannel. JJ had gotten it for her when she learned where she was going to be staying for the next few months.
"You're going to need this." she had said with a small smirk, handing her a manila envelope and something wrapped in brown paper.
"Thanks." Emily smiled looking down at the package. She appreciated the gesture, but what she really wanted was her family back. All this, 'running' for lack of a better word, had certainly taken its toll.
"Merry Christmas Emily." JJ added as she got up and started walking towards the door of the coffee shop, placing a hand on her friend's shoulder as she passed.
"Merry Christmas" She whispered back solemnly, looking at the package in her lap.
The sweater itself looked like it came from the nearest Salvation Army. Heck, it probably did. But there was just something about it that reminded her of the team. Her family. Each hole or snag had been carefully stitched back together. The patch supported by the surrounding weave, Each stain, a memory, a story to be told. It's shortcomings and it's flaws created a unique, tangible, masterpiece.
It was early March now, but the temperatures still frequently dropped well bellow freezing during the day. She walked across the clearing swiftly, turning the doorknob and quickly stepping inside with a shudder. The floor boards creaked softly as she crossed from one side of the small cabin to the other. In her head, she crossed things off like a checklist. Morning chores, done. Firewood, chopped and carried. She looked over at the softly roaring wood stove. She removed her hat and gloves, placing them on the side of the bed. Glancing around, she searched for a distraction. She knew she shouldn't go into town without a reason. Oh, food. I probably need some supplies by now. Opening the cabinet, her shoulders dropped slightly. Full. She went shopping day-before-yesterday. Words with Friends it is then. There was no TV, and the internet at the cabin was far too slow to watch movies on, so she only had a few options and she was really tired of solitaire. She sat down on the bed and opened her laptop. No notifications. No one had played yet. Well, it is kinda hard for your opponents to keep up with someone who plays every 15 minutes. She said to herself.
She somehow she managed to keep semi-busy for the rest off the day. As the light outside finally started to fade, she put on the many layers and walked to the door. The latch opened and the cold breeze came rushing in. Suddenly she was back in that warehouse, lying on the cold ground. She struggled to breathe, there was a deep ache in her chest and any movement was excruciating. She could feel something warm on her hands, warm and almost sticky. Oh, it's blood. My blood. She was in shock, but somehow she could still hear something, someone. Morgan. "No, no, no, Emily, come on, stay with me. Where's my medic!?" He roared.
She looked down, her hand clenching the fabric of her sweater where she had been stabbed, no, impaled. It still hurt sometimes, during the flashbacks, or when she was stressed. Noticing the cold again, she looked up. She was standing just inside the cabin, the door wide open. Oh, crap, I'm letting all the heat out. She stepped out shutting the door behind her, she started the chores as quickly as she could, trying to shake the memory.
So, what do you think? Should I keep going? I've got an idea for the next chapter if I write it. Assuming anyone reads this, writing and plot tips are appreciated.