Disclamer: I own nothing, everything belongs to their rightful owners.
Warning: 8x12 Aftermath/ dark and angsty I guess/ Emily & Spencer friendship
A Million Shattered Dreams
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Emily's in the middle of a meeting when she gets Garcia's message.
With wide eyes she stares at the note and back at her assistant, Thea.
"When did she call?" Emily asks, her voice barely a whisper.
"Ten minutes ago. But she said she tried to reach you for days."
Emily feels the color drain from her face while she gets to her feet and hurries out of the conference room. She hears someone call after her, but she doesn't bother looking back.
Thea can take care of that. Isn't that what a personal assistant is for?
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She tries calling him on her way to the airport and again as soon as the jet has taken off into the clouds, but Spencer doesn't pick up and Emily has to fight the urge to scream.
Angry at herself, she leans back in her seat and stares out into the sky. Wishes Garcia had thought of calling her assistant sooner.
Absently Emily reaches for the key in her jacket pocket.
It has been over a year ago, when Spencer gave it to her. The first time he'd talked to her without being mad after she came back. She remembers that he sat down next to her in the darkness of the BAU jet on their way to DC after a case, slipping the spare key to his apartment into her right hand.
She'd been startled, but he just gave her a smile.
"If you ever need to run again, I want to know where to find you."
She'd never let go of it since that night.
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When Emily stands in front of his apartment a few hours later, waiting for him to let her in, she's glad she kept the key. Of course she would manage to get in without one, but the last thing she needs is his neighbors calling the police.
His apartment is dark and cold, books and papers thrown all over the floorboards and for a moment Emily stares. She can't remember having ever seen his place trashed like this. She locks the door behind her, calls out his name. Waits.
But all is silent.
Out of the corner of her eye she sees the red light on the answering machine blinking in a steady rhythm and his clothes strewn everywhere. She thinks she spots some blood on a shirt sleeve and feels the panic settling in the pit of her stomach.
She calls out for him again, her hands sweaty, while she makes her way through the dark. Her heart pounding painfully in her chest. Afraid what she might find.
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She stops in the doorframe to the bathroom. Stares down at his lifeless body on the white tiles. His face ghostly pale, his eyes closed and for a horrible second she thinks it's over.
No, no, no. Please, no. Not him!
She's back in control a heartbeat later, calling out his name again. She strides into the small room, falls to her knees next to him. Reaches for his wrist to feel his pulse.
She almost cries out in relief when she gets one.
"Spencer," she calls out. "Spencer, look at me."
Emily touches his cheek, his skin cold and clammy. Takes in his appearance, the bathrobe he wears over his rumpled pajamas. His hair tousled and wet with sweat.
"Spencer! Can you hear me? Spence!"
She watches as his eyes flutter open, once, twice. But even then he's not really looking at her. His hazel eyes seem filled with a bottomless darkness and Emily knows he's too far away for her to reach.
"What did you do?" she whispers helplessly.
She starts scanning the room, tries to find evidence of whatever he took. But there's nothing. The bathroom is empty and compared to the rest of his apartment it's spotless. Almost if he'd wanted to make sure there was nothing left to find.
"What did you do, Spencer?" she breathes. "What did you do?"
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She knows it's reckless not tp call for an ambulance, but she also knows that if she does it will be the end of his career. Hotch won't be able to let it go this time. And if anyone knows the consequences of losing the thing you love most, it's she.
Before she can change her mind Emily reaches for her phone and calls the only person she knows she can always rely on. No matter how bad it is.
Clyde takes her call after the first ring, almost if he'd waited for her to call.
He listens quietly before he tells her that it probably isn't as bad as it looks. Tells her exactly what to do for the next couple of hours, for what signs to look out for and under what circumstances she has to call an ambulance whether she likes it or not.
He sounds calm and reasonable and if Emily hadn't known better she would have buy it, but she knows that he's worried too. Even though not for the same reasons she is.
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Emily makes sure she has Spencer in a stable side position before she leaves the bathroom to get some towels and a glass of water mixed with salt.
Back in the bathroom she settles down on the tiles next to him, before she starts what Clyde told her to.
It doesn't take long before Spencer starts to stir, struggling to get up and over to the toilet.
Emily helps him, holds him upright while he vomits. Holds his hair away from his face, makes sure he doesn't choke. She still holds him in her arms when he starts to cry against her shoulder and she whispers comforting words she knows he won't remember.
He drifts in and out of consciousness for the rest of the night, calling out for the woman Emily will never know.
Maeve.
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It's Garcia's voice that wakes her up the next morning and it takes Emily a long time to realize that she's still sitting on the bathroom floor. Spencer soundly asleep with his head in her lap.
Emily blinks, rubs her eyes tiredly and listens to Garcia's pleading voice from outside Spencer's apartment. She can make out JJ's as well and it takes Emily all her self-control to keep quiet.
When their voices finally drift away, Emily sighs in relief before she takes Spencer's pulse again. She allows her free hand to rest against his forehead and thinks that he looks much better.
Thank god.
He blinks. Once, twice and then again. His hazel eyes growing wide when he meets hers.
"Emily?" he whispers. His voice hoarse and thick with sleep. "What are you doing here? Am I dreaming?"
It's a split second decision and she doesn't know why she's doing it.
"Yes, Spencer," she nods. A sad smile on her face, her fingers stroking his hair. "It's just a dream."
"No nightmare then," he mumbles and Emily watches as his eyelids flutter shut again.
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When he opens his eyes an hour later he seems more aware of his surroundings and Emily manages to get him to his feet and through the hallway to his living room.
She helps him lay down on the couch, grabs a blanket from the armrest and wraps it softly around his body.
The ringing of his phone makes her jump, but Spencer doesn't move.
This time it's Morgan, his voice filling the apartment, telling Spencer to call him back. Emily can hear how worried he is and she briefly wonders if she should answer the call.
He hangs up before she can make up her mind.
Exhausted Emily closes her eyes, before she sits down on the couch next to Spencer. Guilt heavy on her shoulders.
When had things become so complicated?
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"You need to talk to your friends," Emily tells him later. Her hand softly pushing his dirty blonde hair away from his pale face. "They just want to help you."
"No," Spencer mumbles. His eyes still closed. "I'd rather talk to you."
Emily feels tears start to build in her eyes. Shakes her head.
"I'm not really here," she whispers. Thinks that this is the truth after all. "But they are, Spencer. And they're just waiting for you to let them in."
She watches as he opens his eyes. Slowly, but when he manages, his pupils look almost normal.
"I don't want to talk to them," he tells her and Emily can hear the distress in his voice. "They don't understand."
He becomes quiet, blinks again and again. Obviously trying to keep his eyes from falling shut.
"When will the pain stop?" he whispers when he finally succeeds. His hazel eyes looking up at her. "Tell me, Emily. When will it stop?"
Emily has to push herself to return his gaze instead of looking away.
"Never," she tells him after a moment. Thinks that there is no point lying to him. That he already knows she won't sugar coat it.
She never had.
She feels her own eyes fill with tears, while she holds his hand tightly. "It will never stop hurting. But you'll learn to live with it."
"Have you?"
Emily laughs, but it sounds more like a sob.
"I'm still trying."
He looks doubtful, but he's in no state to argue.
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"Promise me that you won't do something like that ever again," Emily whispers after a moment of hesitation. Squeezing his hand gently. "Promise me, Spencer."
"Why?"
"Because I can't leave if you don't."
"Then maybe I shouldn't."
It gets silent and Emily watches dust particles dance in the sunlight streaming through the blinds. And she wishes things were different. Wishes she weren't as broken as she is. Wishes she could do more.
But she knows the best she can do is leave.
"I promise," Spencer finally gives in and Emily watches his eyes fall shut once more. "I promise."
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Emily sits, just for a little longer, watching him sleep. Wondering if he'll remember this. And there's a part of her that hopes he won't.
But there's another, smaller part, that hopes he'll remember that she came for him after all.
"Goodbye, Spencer," she whispers softly, before she finally lets go of his hand.
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She stops at the door, looks back one last time. Hopes that he'll get through this somehow.
That he won't make the same mistakes she has.
That in the end, he'll learn to live with it instead of running away.
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She leaves the spare key on one of the bookshelves on her way out, knows that she never deserved to have it in the first place.
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Disclamer: I own nothing, everything belongs to their rightful owners.
AN: Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read and/or review my stories, that really means the world to me! And a big thank you goes to the amazing clairebare for beta reading!