I do not own CM or any of the characters.
This is my first CM fic. Comments are much appriciated.
I aplogize in advance for the slow updates. I am very involved in school and have a lot going on in the next few weeks.
It had been a long week at the BAU. They had worked two cases over eight days. The first was a series of murders in Connecticut. They were able to profile the man in less than 18 hours. They caught him within 36 hours of arriving in Connecticut. The team had been back at the BAU for two days when another case came in. This one involved a series of brutal rapes and murders that stretched the full length of the west coast. The profile took a while to come up with. There were pieces that just didn't add up. Finally, they were able to find the missing pieces and catch the guy just as he was picking up his fifteenth victim. By the time they got on the plane, everyone was feeling pretty drained. Hotch had given the team the next day off to get some rest.
Emily Prentiss had been feeling a bit off since the second day of the case. She was more tired than she was used to during this case. She was really hoping that she wasn't catching the flu bug JJ had gotten at the end of the first case, and was still trying to recover from it. Once they were on the jet, Reid and Morgan sat down and started a card game. Hotch and Rossi sat down and started talking about the case. Emily sat down on the couch and pulled a blanket over her body that was suddenly freezing. She put her aching head in her hands and closed her eyes. JJ noticed that her friend was not acting like her normal self. Normally on flights, Emily was reading or playing cards with Reid and Morgan, or talking with Hotch and Rossi even when it was the middle of the night. JJ went over to Emily and sat down.
The brunette looked up when she felt the couch move and gave JJ a small smile. "What's up?" she said, her voice a bit raspy. "Are you ok, Em?" she asked, "You looked exhausted." "Aren't we all?" Emily said, leaning on her arm and closing her eyes. "Yeah," JJ said, "I guess you're right," patting Emily's arm gently before getting up, not totally convinced she was fine, but she knew better than to make Emily Prentiss angry, especially if she was sick. Emily fell asleep within minutes of talking to JJ and slept for the rest of the flight.
When they landed, everyone got off the plane except JJ, Emily, and Derek. JJ was the only person who knew about Derek and Emily. The two had been together for about two months, but were pretty sure they were very successful at hiding it from almost everyone. JJ, however, had noticed the small changes in her best friend and had confronted her about it. Emily decided to tell JJ about her and Derek, partly because she knew that eventually, JJ would figure it out and partly because she wanted someone she could talk to about it. JJ was thrilled for her best friend.
"I'm sorry, Derek," JJ said, getting up from her seat. "For what?" Derek asked, a bit confused. JJ looked at Prentiss, then back at Derek. "For getting her sick," JJ said. "Em's sick?" Derek said, looking with concern at his sleeping girlfriend. "I think so," JJ said, "I really am sorry." "It's not your fault Jayj," he said, giving her a small hug before turning back to his sick girlfriend. JJ followed him over to the couch. "You should go home JJ," he said, "I got her." "Alright," JJ said, "Take good care of her. If you need anything call," she said, leaving the plane.
Derek went over to Emily and shook her gently. "Em," he said gently, "Time to get up." "No," she said, rolling over and curling into a ball. "Come on, sweetheart," he said, turning her back to him, "We need to get you home." "Leave me alone," she said, quite rudely.
Derek sighed. Prentiss had never been sick since they had started dating, in fact she had only been sick once in all the years he had known her, but he had learned that a sick Prentiss is a grumpy Prentiss. "Alright," he said, "I'll just have to carry you out to the car." "I can walk," she mumbled, getting up and grabbing her bags, "Let's go." She climbed out of the plane slowly and walked over to Derek's car. They had driven together because her car was in the shop. She put her bags in the trunk and climbed into the passenger side of the car. She leaned her head against the window, sighing as the coolness of the window hit her fevered skin. He got in and started the car. He looked at her for a few seconds before putting the car in drive and driving away.
"Sorry I snapped at you," she said finally breaking the silence. "It's fine," he said, taking her hand, "You don't feel good. I know you didn't mean it." She smiled and leaned back in her seat. "You want to tell me how long you have been feeling bad?" he asked her. "I have had a headache since the second day of the case. I figured that I was just stressed, you know with the anniversary of Matthew's death coming up, and these two cases being so close. I woke up this morning with a huge headache and my throat was burning. I took some Advil, which worked for a while. I made sure to take it every four hours, but when we went to make the arrest, I dropped it out of the SUV," she said. "Ok," Derek said, "So you started feeling sick three days ago and didn't say anything?" "No," she said, "I didn't want to distract you guys from the case." "Em," he said, shaking his head.
The two sat in silence for a few minutes before Derek spoke. "So what are your symptoms?" he asked. "Um," she said, "My head hurts like crazy, my throat is burning, my nose is a little stuffed up, obviously I have a fever, but I have chills and my stomach has been feeling crappy since we got on the plane." "Yep," he said, "you definitely have JJ's flu." "I'm alright," she said, closing her eyes. The two remained silent for the rest of the drive to Emily's place.
When they got there, he helped her out of the car before grabbing their bags and helping her into her new house. She opened it and let him in. She walked to her bedroom and collapsed onto the bed. "Em," Derek said, following her, "You need to put on something more comfortable and take something for your fever. And when was the last time you ate?" "Fine," she said a bit aggravated. She got up, grabbed some pajamas and went into the bathroom to change.
When she finished she came out and lay back down on the bed. "Derek," she called, noticing he wasn't in the room. "In the kitchen," he called back. She debated going in there and seeing what he was doing, but her body was exhausted so she decided to just stay put. Derek came in a few minutes later with a bowl of soup, some saltine crackers, and ginger ale. "Thanks," she said, smiling, "But I'm not hungry." "You need to eat something so you can take some medicine," he said, sitting down next to her on the bed, "Come on, sweetheart. Just a few bites." "Fine," Emily said, "but only so you will leave me alone." She ate a few bites of soup and three crackers. "I'm done," she said, handing the tray back to Derek. "You sure?" he said, looking at the barely eaten soup and giving her a look. "Yeah," she said, "My stomach feels like crap and I just want to sleep." "Here. Take these," he said, handing her some pills he had found in her kitchen cabinet and a glass of water. "Thanks," she said, taking the medicine and handing the cup back to Derek. He kissed her head, turned out the light, and went back into the kitchen.
He made himself some pizza, thinking of the first time he had come here. She had had no food in her fridge or cupboards. He had taken her shopping and taught her how to keep a house properly stocked with food. He had been surprised with her cooking skills and she had reminded him that she had lived in Paris several times. He sat down on the couch and turned on the TV. He flipped channels until he found 48 Hours: Hard Evidence. He enjoyed trying to figure out who the killer was before it was revealed. He watched two episodes before he heard thrashing and screaming coming from Emily's bedroom.
He ran into her room and flipped on the lights. He saw her thrashing and turning in her bed. He ran over to her and shook her, screaming her name. She woke up and tried to fight him. "No, no, no, Sweetheart," he said, "It's just me. You're ok. You are at home and safe." She calmed down when she heard his voice and relaxed a little in his arms. He held her for a few minutes. Once she had calmed enough to talk, he asked, "Do you want to talk about it?" She shook her head and buried her head in his neck, something that she rarely did. "It's ok sweetheart," he said, stroking her hair.
After a few more minutes, she said, "It was Doyle. He was back and after all of us. We tracked him to an abandon building, like the one he took me to last time he took me," she said, touching her hand to her shirt, under which was the four-leaf clover Doyle had burned into her skin. "We went in and he started shooting. He shot you in the side and you were dying. He had Declan with him. After he shot you, he shot Declan. I lost both of you," she said, tears were streaming down her face. "We are both safe," Derek said, wiping the tears from her eyes, "Declan is at school, and he is safe. We can call him in the morning." "Ok," she said, snuggling closer to Derek, lavishing in his warmth. "How are you feeling?" he asked when she had calmed down again. "I'm alright," she said, giving him a weak smile. "Why don't you go back to sleep," he said, running his hand over her fevered forehead. "Will you stay?" she asked shyly. Even though they were dating, they were taking it slowly. This was the first time he had been in her bedroom except for the time he had come looking for her with Rossi. "Of course, sweetheart," he said, turning off the lights and getting under the covers. He put his arms around Emily. She relaxed with his touch and soon, both were sleeping.
He woke up the next morning with her still in his arms. He just lay there, watching her sleep. He noticed she was still burning up. "Oh, Em," he said softly, gently brushing a piece of hair out of her face. Her eyes fluttered and opened, "Wha… oh Derek. It's you," she said, relaxing a bit. "Yeah," he said, kissing her forehead. "Are you feeling any better?" "I'm alright," she said. "Ok," he said, "Now how about if you tell me how you are really feeling." "My headache isn't as bad as it was yesterday, my nose is more stuffed up, as you can tell, my throat is still burning, and my stomach still feels gross," she said, "the only thing that isn't so bad is my chills, but that's probably because you are holding me and keeping me warm."
"Do you want to eat something?" he asked, getting out of bed, stretching a bit. "Do I have to eat to get more medicine?" she asked, hoping the answer was no. "Yep," he said, "Sorry, Sweetheart," he said, seeing her face drop. "It will make you feel worse if you don't have something in your stomach when you take it," he said. "Fine," she said, knowing he was right. He went into the kitchen and made her some toast and a banana. He also made her some tea. He brought the food and tea back into her bedroom. "Here," he said, giving her the food, and setting the tea on her nightstand, "this shouldn't upset your stomach." She ate half of the banana and a few bites of toast before handing the plate back to Derek. He sighed and gave her two Advils and her tea. She swallowed them quickly and lay back down. Her head was pounding and she just wanted some sleep.
Derek found her sound asleep five minutes later when he came back to see if she wanted to watch a movie. He decided he would make some of his mom's special chicken soup. He went into the kitchen and found all of the ingredients he would need. He sautéed the vegetables and added the chicken and water along with the spices. He left it to simmer while he cleaned up his mess. Once her kitchen was clean, he decided to check on Emily. He found her curled up in a ball, all the covers on the floor, shaking. He picked the blankets up and covered her with them. She snuggled into them and was soon sleeping soundly. He smiled and quietly closed the door.
He decided he needed to go the store. She was almost out of Advil and had no crackers or ginger ale left. He wrote a note and put it on her nightstand before leaving. He drove to Walgreens that was about five minutes from her house. He picked up some ginger ale, a bottle of Advil, some Gatorade, a box of her favorite crackers, some more bananas, and a package of bread. He paid and drove quickly back. He walked in, put the groceries away, and went into Emily's room. Her eyes open when he walked in and she pushed herself into a sitting position, leaning back on her pillows.
"Hey," he said, going over and sitting down in her bed. "Can we call Declan now?" she asked. "Sure," he said, picking up her cell phone off the night stand and dialing the school's number. Ever since Emily had come back from Europe a year ago, she had gotten close with Declan, becoming like a mother figure to him. He still attended the boarding school that he had when Doyle had grabbed him. "Hello?" Declan said, picking up the phone on the third ring. "Hey Declan," Emily said, "How are you doing?" "Good," he said, "I'm looking forward to coming home for Thanksgiving on Wednesday. Why did you call?" "I just needed to hear from you," she said. "Is everything ok?" he asked, not used to Emily calling him in the middle of the day. "Yeah," she said, "I just had a dream about you being hurt and needed to know you were alright." "I'm alright," he said, reassuringly, "I need to go though; I am supposed to be meeting some of my friends in a few minutes to work on a project." "Alright," she said, "I love you." "I love you, too," he said, hanging up.
She put her phone down and leaned back against the pillows. "Feel better?" Derek asked. "Yeah," she said, glad Declan was alright. "Can I get you anything?" he asked, brushing a stray piece of hear from her paler than normal face. "No," she said, putting her hand on her aching stomach, "I'm fine." "So you want something for your stomach?" he asked, watching her closely as she closed her eyes. "Alright," she said, hoping that something could stop this awful churning. He went to the kitchen and poured a cup of ginger ale. He brought it back to her and handed it to. She took a few sips before setting it on the table. She put her hand back on her stomach and closed her eyes again, trying to will her stomach to settle down.
Suddenly, she knew her stomach wouldn't settle and took off to the bathroom. She threw the toilet open and proceeded to throw up. Morgan followed her, held her hair up, and rubbed her back. She tried to shove him off. As soon as she could catch her breath, she said, "Go away. You don't need to see this." "I'm not going anywhere," he said, rubbing her shoulder gently, "Besides, this isn't the first time I've seen you loose your lunch." "Good point," Emily said, a sad smile crossing her face as she remembered the day Tsia had been shot. Emily leaned back against the tub and put her head against its cool side. Derek gently rubbed her back and just let her sit there for a minute. Finally, when her breathing had returned to normal, he asked "Would you like to go back to bed?" She nodded and got up, swaying a little. "Easy there," he said, putting an arm around her waist and guiding her back to her bed. He helped her lay down and covered her with a blanket. "Try to get some sleep, Em," he said, kissing her fevered head. He noticed her fever seemed to be a little higher than before. "Alright," she said, rolling over and hugging her stomach.
He closed the door and went into the kitchen to make himself some lunch. He ate his sandwich quickly and then decided to call JJ and ask her if there was anything he could do to help Emily get better. "Agent Jareau," JJ said, answering. "Hey Jayje," Derek said, "It's Morgan." "Hey," JJ said, "How's Em doing?" "Not so good," he replied, sighing, "She still has a fever, sore throat, stuffy nose and she just finished throwing up, but she is stubborn as ever, insisting she is fine." "Of course she is," JJ said, "Did you need something?" "Yeah," he said, "I was wondering if there was anything I could do to help her feel better?" "Just let her sleep," JJ said, "and make sure she keeps drinking or she will get dehydrated. If she can't hold anything down in the next 24 hours, call me. Other than that, there isn't anything you can do but help her and be there for her. When I was sick I only threw up a couple times so if it is the same thing, she should be fine in a few hours." "Alright," he said, "Thanks, Jayje." "Tell Emily I hope she feels better," JJ said hanging up.
Derek sighed. He hated feeling so helpless. He was the kind of person who always wanted to be in control. At least she was safe, he kept telling himself. While he couldn't control the fact that she had the flu, he was happy she was safe and her life wasn't in danger. He thought back to all the times her life had been in danger, the day she had been shot during a search of a house, the time they had been under heavy gun fire from Doyle and his men, and the most predominant, the day she had almost died in his arms after Doyle stabbed her through the stomach with a table leg. He shook his head, trying to forget the look on her face that day, a look of complete helplessness that haunted him for months. When he finally found out she was alive, he had vowed to himself to always protect her. He hated the fact that he couldn't protect her from a simple virus. He knew it was stupid that he blamed himself for her being sick. He just felt stupid that he hadn't picked up on her illness sooner.
He was startled out of his thoughts by foot steps across the floor. He ran through her bedroom and into the bathroom. He sighed as he walked in and saw her hanging over the toilet. He grabbed a ponytail holder off her counter and tied her hair into a low ponytail before rubbing her back and placing a cool hand on her overheated neck. When she finished, he pulled her into his lap and stroked her hair. She tried to blink the tears out of her eyes before he noticed; however, she wasn't fast enough. "Hey, hey hey," he said, brushing the tears out of her eyes, "What's wrong, Sweetheart?" "Nothing," Emily said, "My eyes are just burning. Sorry." "There's nothing to apologize for," he said, kissing her temple, "You're sick. If you need to cry, you can. Now do you want to go back to bed?" "No," she said, "I just want to sit here for a while. The cold feels good." "Can I get you anything?" Derek asked. "Could you get me my pillow, blanket, and my bear that's on my bed?" she asked, blushing a bit through her already fevered cheeks. "Of course, Sweetheart," he said, kissing her forehead before getting up and grabbing the things she asked for, along with a bottle of blue Gatorade, her favorite. He brought her the things. "Do you want me to stay?" Derek asked as he handed her the pillow and set the blanket on top of her and setting the Gatorade on the floor next to her. "Please," she said, motioning for him to sit next to her. He pulled her head onto his lap and stroked her hair softly. "Would you like to try some Gatorade?" he asked after a few minutes. "No thanks. I'm not really thirsty," she lied. She was actually extremely thirsty, but she was sure her stomach couldn't handle it. "Alright, sweetheart," he said, "Why don't you try to sleep?" She nodded and closed her eyes as he continues to stroke her hair gently.
He sat there thinking about all the cases the two of them had worked together, smiling when he remembered the good ones and holding her a bit tighter when he remembered the bad. He was startled out of his thoughts yet again by the sleeping figure in his arms suddenly waking and throwing herself at the toilet. He rubbed her back gently, whispering softly to her. When she finished, she helped her brush her teeth and lay back down on the floor. He sat down next to her and put his hand across her burning forehead. "That feels so good," she sighed. "I'm gonna go get some ice," he said, standing up, "We've gotta get that fever down and you can't handle medicine right now." She nodded, knowing he was right. He went to the kitchen, grabbed a towel and a bowl of ice, and went back to the bathroom. He found the door shut so he knocked. "I'll be out in a minute," she called. He set the bowl next to her bed and sat down, waiting for her to come out.
A few minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom. She walked slowly over to the bed and sat down, leaning against him. "Would you like to lie down?" he asked, seeing how tired she looked. "I do," she said, "Just not in here. Can we go and lay on the couch?" "Sure, Em," he said, getting up and grabbing the bowl of ice. "I'll be right back," she said, getting up and walking slowly into the bathroom. She walked back out a few seconds later, with her blanket, pillow, teddy bear, and the unopened bottle of Gatorade. He went over to her and took the blanket, pillow, and bottle from her before grabbing the bowl of ice. "I could have gotten that stuff," he said, guiding her to the couch. "Trust me," she said, "You do not want to go in there. It smells worse than that trailer in New Mexico." He raised his eyebrows slightly, smiling at her. She gave him a weak smile before collapsing on the couch. He sat down at her head, putting the pillow on his lap before laying her head on it. He put the ice towel on her head.
She covered herself with the blanket, tears threatening to spill out of her eyes. "What's wrong, Sweetheart?" he asked, trying to wipe away her tears for the second time that day. "Nothing," she said, pushing his hand away, "I'm just really tired and I want to sleep." "Would you like some tea?" he asked, "It might help you to relax." "Um, yeah sure," she said. He got up and made her some peppermint tea. He put a few ice cubes in it to cool it down before handing it to her. "Small sips," he instructed, sitting back down. She took a few sips before handing him the cup. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around her stomach. She laid there quietly for a few minutes before bolting upright and sprinting into the bathroom before losing what little tea and food she had in her stomach. He was right on her heals, rubbing her back. "It's alright," he said, as tears fell from her eyes.
They spent the rest of the night alternating between the couch, the bed and the bathroom floor. Derek tried to get Emily to drink some Gatorade, but she refused, not wanting to throw up again. Finally around 3 A.M. Emily fell into a restless sleep. She had stopped actually vomiting two hours before, but dry heaves kept her up longer. Derek was starting to wonder if she had something different than JJ, or if her symptoms were just more aggressive.
For anyone who was reading Remember When. I am sorry I haven't updated in such a long time. I am at a total writers block with it and also have had a ton of school work. I will try to work on it again soon, but it may not get done until Christmas time. Sorry.