Author's Note: Just a little fic to part of the song "Clocks" by Coldplay. I'm gonna skip a bit of the song, just to conform it to my story. Enjoy!
***SPOILER ALERT FOR THOSE WHO HAVEN'T YET SEEN SEASON SIX!***
Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds. CBS does all that amazing work. AMEN Erica Messer! (Sorry).
Emily walked the almost completely empty streets of D.C. at four o'clock in the morning. The street lights cast a dim glow over the dark, menacing emptiness. True, she could've rented a cab from the airport a few hours back, but she wanted to walk. She'd made a request to send her bags to her apartment. They were probably there by now. Three hours ago, she had stepped foot in the United States for the first time in seven months. She wanted to make sure she spent enough time back home.
The lights go out and I can't be saved
Tides that I try to swim against
Suddenly, the street lights dimmed to a point where they were nearly good-for-nothing. Emily sighed and blew a piece of hair back in place. Her boots splashed through the miniature puddles of water that had formed over the asphalt due to yesterday morning's rain. She took a deep breath and inhaled the thin, cold air. Her breath fogged as she breathed out. It had been this cold in Paris; colder, actually. It was a different cold, though. The menacing cold; the type of cold that told you that you didn't belong there. Every time she closed her eyes, she imagined that when she opened them, she would be back in the bullpen, surrounded by people that she fully well knew and trusted.
Have brought me down upon my knees
Oh I beg, I beg and plead
Many a time, she thought of coming back. She was fully aware that it would have been dangerous as hell if she returned too early, but she wanted so badly to come back. She wanted to see the people she knew, the people she'd spent so much time with. Hell, they were her family. At the same time, she didn't want to come back. It might've been easier to just move on and live in Paris for the rest of her life. Speaking French was no problem at all. She didn't want to come back and see the faces of the people that she had lied to, let down, and almost gotten killed. JJ and Hotch were an exception. There were so many times when Emily and JJ were on the phone that Emily had begged JJ to let her speak to the team.
Come out of things unsaid
Shoot an apple off my head
Trouble that can't be named
A tiger's waiting to be tamed
On the other hand, the team was distressed. They didn't know Emily was alive, running around somewhere in Europe. Reid went to JJ's house for ten weeks straight, crying over losing Emily. Morgan and Garcia were trained on finding the bastard that had "killed" Emily. Rossi was worried as well, and Hotch was… Hotch. Emily wasn't the only one who wanted to talk to the team. Although they had no idea she was alive and breathing, they yearned to talk to her just one more time. Morgan had caught Penelope staring at Emily's picture on the wall under "Fallen Agents" one day and told her staring at it wasn't going to bring her back.
Confusion that never stops
Closin' walls and tickin' clocks
The time she was with Doyle was far less painful as when she was away from her family. She'd gotten severely beaten and branded by him, reminded forever how weak she had been. On the contrary, she knew her co-workers thought highly of her. They'd be confused, though, when she walked through the bullpen's doors. Would they still hold that much regard for her? Or would they be too upset to even care that she was back?
Home, home
Where I wanted to go
Home, home
Where I wanted to go
Confused beyond measure, Emily kept walking. Walking to the place that had never once failed her. Never once let her down, caused her grief or worry. She found herself standing at the doors of the FBI headquarters. She stared at the broad, wide, white building. Sure, it was boring and dull, but inside it held the story of her life. She looked around, a dash of early morning sunshine illuminating soft snowflakes. The snow fell gently around Emily, dusting her hair, shoulders, and boots. A flake fell harmlessly onto her burning skin and melted on contact. The beautiful morning sun rose quickly now, dawning onto a new day. Right there, at that moment, it didn't matter to Emily how much her team would hate her. Her heart had been ripped out of her chest the moment JJ and Hotch had told her what she would have to do. The duration of her time in Paris, not a day went by that she longed with a passion to be home. Now, all she wanted to do was bask in the glory that was the BAU. Even though horrendous cases passed her eyes in a flurry every day, there was a certain warmth with her team that she'd never experienced with her old desk job. Now that she was home, she just wanted to stay. After all, home is where the heart is, right?
The End.
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