Disclamer: I own nothing, everything belongs to their rightful owners.
AN: ANGST/DARK, 7x01 Aftermath/ Can be read as a continuation to "The Innocence Is Gone And What Was Right Is Wrong" and "Starting With A Dream And Giving It All We've Got" but can stand on it's own as well.
And Silence Falls Like Calmness In A Storm
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They're on the jet on their way to Texas when Emily wakes up with a scream and finds her whole team staring back at her. She mumbles an apology, tells them that she's fine. She even manages a smile to confirm the lie.
But the truth is she feels like crying. Her whole body aching with the effort she puts in keeping up her walls.
She hands the folder that's still in her trembling hands to Rossi, before she gets up and heads for the bathroom.
She locks the door behind her and meets her own haunted eyes in the mirror above the sink. And can't stop wondering when the life she wanted back so desperately turned into a nightmare.
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The crime scene is a mess, the local police useless and the room they offer them at the station too small. Emily isn't claustrophobic, but she has to fight the urge to walk right back out. She bites her lip, sits down beside Reid and stares at the crime scene photos on the desk. She tries to pay attention, but her thoughts keep drifting away.
Hotch's voice brings her back to reality. "Prentiss! Are you listening?"
She looks up and finds the room spinning dangerously.
"Prentiss, are you alright?"
She wants to say yes, but it feels like the air got sucked from her lungs and she can't draw another breath. It's too hot and she fumbles with the collar of her blouse.
"Emily?"
With trembling fingers she reaches for the table, closes her eyes. But it's not helping. If anything it makes it worse.
When she blinks, she finds her team watching her. That annoying police chief standing in the doorframe, asking if he should call an ambulance. And Emily just wants to tell them all to go to hell.
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Later that day, when they're on the way to the house of their unsub, Emily feels like she got sent to hell itself.
It's too hot, the Texas sun burns mercilessly from the clear blue sky and everyone treats her like she's about to fall to pieces. She's not.
The house is dark and silent and oddly comforting. She's on her way down to the basement, the air stale with dust and dirt and something else, something she can't put her finger on.
Her sight gets blurry. She squints her eyes, tries to focus but she can't hold the gun any longer. She's losing her grip. There's a crash and she's on her side facing the stone wall to her left.
She tries to sit up, tries to keep her eyes open but the walls come closer. The ground starts shaking and she has to close her eyes to keep from vomiting.
She hears someone whispering her name, feels cold hands on her wrist and she knows it's Reid. Bullets start flying, screams echoing through the dark. Reid pulls her to he feet and drags her with him, Emily only half aware of the man hiding in the shadows.
The bullet hits her full force, knocks her to the ground. Taking Reid down with her. She sees stars, stars all over the dark horizon. Even though that's not possible because she's in a house and it's the middle of the day.
Someone calls her name, again and again. But Emily can't focus any longer and she thinks that maybe, maybe faith is about to set things right.
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Faith doesn't set things right.
Of course not.
Emily wakes up in a hospital bed like she did far too many times before and if it hadn't been for Reid, sleeping in a chair beside her bed, she would have screamed in frustration.
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They're working a case in New York when Hotch asks her to play the bait. Emily wants to say no, knows she's not ready. But of course she keeps her mouth shut.
She ends up in a nightclub, wearing a skimpy black dress that makes her look far too fuck-able for her own liking. She sips at the drink in her hand even though she knows she's not supposed to. But she knows she can't do this sober.
She orders a second and a third. Hopes no one will notice later.
You can do this, Emily. Just breathe.
It doesn't take long before the first guy tries to hit on her. She forces herself to smile and dance and follow protocol. She has a fourth glass and than a fifth and before she knows it, her voice is slurred and her movements unsteady.
When she hears Hotchs voice over the earpiece, complimenting that she plays a real convincing drunk she almost bursts out laughing. Knows she won't laugh much when Hotch finds out that she's wasted for real.
Somehow Emily ends up in a dark corner with some business jerk. She knows he's not their unsub but she's too drunk to get herself out of the situation and so she lets the guy talk, hopes he'll be bored by her lack of interest and move on soon.
A sharp piercing sound in her ear makes her stumble and cry out in agony. She can't help but tear the wire out of her ear, gasping for air.
She's pushed back by the man in front of her a second later, a high pitched ringing in her ears. She feels his hands on the hem of her dress and tries to fight him off, but her hands are wet with sweat and the movement alone makes her dizzy.
Before she knows what's happening the guy is gone. She has to blink a couple of times until she spots Morgan and Hotch right about to handcuff that idiot. Their mouths move and she's sure they ask her something, but she still can't hear anything else beside the strange ringing.
She feels herself stumble, tries her best to keep herself from falling, but ends up in an uncomfortable position on the floor anyway. Panic slowly creeping up on her.
This isn't good.
She tells herself to breathe and when she finally manages to look up again, she finds Reid. He's on his knees in front of her, his hands slowly reaching for hers.
With a confirming nod she allows him to help her up. Her hands pressed against her ears to ease the pain, her eyes shut tightly to keep the room from spinning. She feels Reid's arm slip around her waist to hold her up and she thinks she would have laughed if someone had told her that would happen at the end of the day.
They walk slowly and it seems to take forever until they get out of the club. When they do, the cold night air hits Emily full force. She blinks and spots Morgan, pushing the business guy on the backseat of a police car.
"It's the wrong guy," she tells Reid. "It's not our unsub."
At least that's what Emily thinks she said, but the way Reid looks at her makes clear she obviously hasn't.
She tries again, when she feels bile rise up in her throat. She pushes herself out of Reid's hold and manages a few steps away from him, just on time, before she vomits all over the sidewalk.
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Hotch tells Reid to take her back to the hotel and for the first time ever Emily doesn't even try to argue.
She's in the passenger seat, glad, at least, that the ringing in her ears has eased. Reid already explained that their equipment got messed up, that they couldn't hear her anymore and that they went right in to get her out.
Too late, Emily thinks. She'd already messed up the whole case anyway.
It had been a stupid idea right from the start. If their unsub had been in the club, he wouldn't come back now.
She leans back in her seat, closes her eyes. She already knows what lies ahead of her as soon as she is sober again. Hotch will make her explain what had gotten into her. He'll probably suspend her. Or even get her fired. There isn't much she could say to talk herself out of this mess.
She isn't even sure if she wants to.
Emily allows Reid to help her out of the car and back to her hotel room, glad that he does because she's sure she wouldn't have managed the whole way on her own. She doesn't complain when he makes her sit down on the bed and tells her that he's going to get her some painkillers.
She waits until the door falls shut behind him, before she heads for the bathroom to change out of her spoiled clothes. It's not until she's pulled down the skimpy dress that she spots the little plastic bag at the hem of her stockings.
For a moment she just stares. And then it hits her. The reason that guy had slipped his hands under her dress, only seconds before Morgan tore him away from her.
Emily can't help but laugh.
She shakes her head before she grabs the cocaine and makes her way over to the toilet. She's just about to drop it, when something holds her back. She can't help but wonder how long it would last.
Thinks that no one even knows that she has it.
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It's twelve hours later and they're on the jet, heading back to DC. Somehow they got their unsub after all. Emily has no idea how, but she's almost sure it has something to do with Reid. Certainly not with her.
She's having the worst hungover she had in years and she's just glad Hotch believed her when she told him that someone must have slipped something in her drink. That she only took a sip. That she wouldn't get drunk on the job.
With a sigh she stares back at her own reflection in the mirror above the sink, while she listens to the rapid beating of her heart. Tells herself that she's fine. Even though Emily knows that she isn't. And not just because she's hungover.
She looks down at the running water from the faucet, tries to stop thinking about the bag of coke in her left jacket pocket. She knows she needs to throw it away, knows that she has to do it soon before she can't resist the urge to take it any longer.
A knock against the bathroom door makes her jump.
"Are you okay in there, princess?"
Morgan.
"I'm fine," Emily forces herself to answer, while she tries her best to keep her voice steady. "I'll be right out." She bites her lip furiously before she shoves the cocaine deeper into her pocket.
"Are you okay?" Morgan asks her, when she emerges from the bathroom.
"Why wouldn't I?" she asks and hates herself for sounding so angry. None of this had been his fault. She spins around to go back to her seat, hoping they would be back in Quantico soon. She only wants to go home.
"Emily, wait."
"What now?"
Morgan looks startled. "Easy, Emily, I just wanted..." He holds a cup of coffee in her direction and he looks so worried that for a brief second Emily feels guilty.
"Are you still angry because we sent you into the club?" Morgan asks. "If we had known..."
"You didn't have to wear that sluty little dress you suggested, did you?" Emily blurts out, She knows she has no right to lash out at him, but she can't stop the words from spilling. "You weren't the one who had to play the bait and get touched by those drunk idiots or am I wrong?"
"Emily, I already told you...
"Just leave me the hell alone, Morgan!" Emily shakes her head angrily, more to herself than to anyone else. She's not even sure why she is so mad in the first place. It wasn't that big of a deal, she's done that before, she...
"Emily,..."
"Just stop calling me that!" This time her own voice makes her flinch. But it's not until she turns her back on Morgan that she realizes everyone else had been watching too.
Reid looks confused, Hotch alarmed and Rossi like he's about to say something. JJ actually does say something, but Emily ignores it. Sits back down on her seat and pretends to be asleep for the rest of the flight. Hot tears burning behind her closed eye lids.
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The second they're back on the ground, Emily leaves. She doesn't take the time to look back or even say goodnight.
She know she's about to make things worse, but right now she just can't face them. She almost runs to her car, glad no one dares to follow.
When she's back in the security of her apartment, she leans back against the closed door. Finally reaching for the drug in her jacket pocket.
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Looking at Regina Lampert feels like going back in time and Emily hates the whole case right from the start.
"You have no idea what it is like when the monster of your nightmares comes back for you," the woman spits right into her face and Emily just stares. Wishes she could get up and run. But she's sure her legs wouldn't even carry her to the door of the interrogation room.
Regina blinks. "Something happend to you," she starts, her gaze now fixed on Emily.
"What did you do to him?" the woman whispers, leaning over the table while she lowers her voice. "Did you arrest him like a good FBI Agent? Or did you kill him?"
Emily feels like crying. The familiar pain in her chest coming back to life.
"I didn't pull the trigger," is all she answers. Reminding herself that her team is watching
Regina laughs. Shakes her head. "Still," she whispers. "Your monster's dead, I have to live with mine."
On wobbly legs Emily makes it out of the room, hands over the folder with Regina's statement to Hotch. He asks her if she's alright and for a moment Emily thinks about telling him the truth.
Instead she leaves him standing there, not even turning around when he calls after her.
She's walking fast and faster until she's running. Out of the building and down the empty street. The cold night air soothing her burning cheeks. She's passing one street after another, unsure where she's going, unsure how to find her way back.
But for now it doesn't matter.
She runs until her knees buckle and she hits the ground with a thud. Her heart's hammering painfully in her chest and she's struggling to breathe, blood rushing in her ears. And she wonders if she's going to pass out.
Her phone starts to ring and keeps ringing but she doesn't bother pulling it out of her jacket.
She just stares down at her hands, down at the leafes and the dirt. She doesn't realize that she's crying until she's sobbing helplessly, tears dripping from her cheeks on her hands.
"Emily."
The familiar voice seems to come out of nowhere, but when she blinks rapidly against the tears, she finds Reid crouched down next to her. His hair tousled, his cheeks flushed and slightly out of breath.
He must have taken off right after her.
She feels his hands cover hers, his hazel eyes filled with worry. The phone in her jacket still ringing and Emily has to fight the urge to toss it into the bushes.
"That's probably JJ," Reid tells her. "They're worried."
Emily watches as he slips the phone from her pocket, listens to him telling JJ that he found her. That everything's fine.
But it isn't. And it never will be.
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When she comes to the bureau the next day, Hotch finally makes her sit down in his office with him.
He stares at her, watches her quietly and Emily wonders what he thinks. When he finally speaks his voice sounds unfamiliar. Thick with concern and something else.
Pity.
He tells her that he wants to put her on desk duty. That she seems too distracted to go out into the field, that he wants her to go back to those therapy seasons. Emily bites her lip to keep herself from laughing. It's ridiculous she thinks. If only he knew.
But he doesn't and she keeps her mouth shut. Nods. Once, twice. It's not like she can argue with him about that.
She spends the rest of the day at her desk, stares at the stack of papers beside her. Wonders where the team went, wonders what their latest case is about.
Garcia shows up beside her a couple of times, offering her a cup of coffee and a muffin. A salad and a water later. Asking her if she wants to join her in her office. Emily shakes her head, tells her no as politely as possible, but Garcia looks sad anyway and it makes Emily feel even worse.
Before Garcia can show up again Emily decides to leave. It's not like she'll do any of this paper work anyway.
But instead of going home she heads for her favorite bar. She has a first and a second drink, a third and a fourth before she really knows it.
There's a young man with hazel eyes and dirty blonde hair, that keeps watching her from the other side of the room. A heartwarming smile on his lips. When he heads in the direction of the bathroom, Emily's already drunk enough to follow.
She's pushed back against the wall in the small hallway a moment later. Soft lips finding hers.
The next morning she wakes up in a bed that isn't hers, beside a young man that looks alarmingly like Reid. Yet, she doesn't even know his name. She grabs her clothes and leaves, hopes she hasn't told him her name either.
She calls Hotch on her way home, tells him that she can't come to work, that she's sick. She hangs up before he has the chance to doubt her and she doesn't take his call when he tries to reach her again. Turns her phone off instead.
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It's a persistent hammering that makes Emily's eyes flutter open. She blinks and finds herself on the floor of her living room, wondering how she got there.
She hears it again and this time she realize it's someone knocking against the door of her apartment, frantically calling her name.
She groans in annoyance, wonders if any of her neighbours would complain about this later. With a sigh she grabs the armrest of the couch to pull herself up into a standing position. Stares at the remains of white powder on her coffee table.
When she manages her way through the dark hallway, she finds JJ in front of her apartment. Her hand midair, ready to knock again.
The blonde stares at her with wide eyes, worry written all over her face. "Why didn't you answer your phone?" she blurts out. "We were worried sick!"
Emily rubs her eyes, wishes JJ would keep her voice down. Motions for her to come in, knows she won't leave anyway.
They're standing in the hallway, Emily trying her best to keep JJ out of her living room. The blonde still going on about how worried she is, asking her what's wrong. Begging her to talk.
And Emily does what she always did. She gives her friend a smile, tells her that she's fine, even when they both know it's just another fucked up lie.
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She's sitting in the interrogation room with Rossi, staring at yet another scumbag. The guy is guilty, that much is clear and Emily just wants him to stop lying so she can go home.
After forty-five minutes she finally has enough.
She has him by the collar of his shirt before Rossi can stop her. Has him pushed back against the wall with her face only inches apart from his. Anger and hatred rushing through her veins while she tells him what she's going to do to him if he doesn't stop messing with them.
He looks scared to death and Emily doesn't understand why until his lips turn blue and she realizes that she's about to choke him. It's just then that someone grabs her. A moment later she's the one pushed back against the wall, Morgan staring down at her.
"Have you lost your mind, Prentiss?"
Emily blinks, looks back at their suspect at the other end of the room. He's still struggling to breathe, Rossi and JJ at his side. And Emily can't help but laugh.
Morgan looks at her like he has no idea who she is anymore and Emily thinks that he really doesn't know her at all.
No one does.
She pushes him off of her, leaves the room without looking back.
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"What did you take?" Reid catches her by her arm, just before she can slip into the elevator.
For a second Emily's stunned, can't remember a time he grabed her like this.
"Nothing," she answers without a second thought. Realizes that she can't remember a time he looked at her like he does now, either.
"Emily," he whispers and all she can think about is that her name never sounded more wrong.
"I didn't take anything," she tells him, before she tears herself away from his grasp. Her voice firm and her gaze steady when she meets his worried look. "I didn't."
Of course that's just another lie and of course Emily knows that Reid knows too. But she's not going to start being honest now.
It's too late to save her anyway.
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It's past midnight when he shows up in front of her apartment.
And she's amazed how young and innocent he looks, with his hands shoved down his pants and his tousled hair. But Emily knows better, knows that he's chasing his own demons in the darkness of his own apartment.
She lets him in without asking what he wants, whitout putting away the coke on her coffee table. It doesn't matter, he already knows anyway.
They all do. She made sure of that when she lost it in the interrogation room today and nearly killed a suspect with her bare hands.
Reid follows her through the hallway, watches her from afar. Obviously searching for the right thing to say and Emily stares out of her window into the night and waits. Bracing herself for whatever may come.
In the end he surprises her after all when he grabs her, his hands around her waist, and pushes her back against the wall. His long fingers tangled between her dark hair, his soft lips moving against hers. Kissing her for all he's worth.
Taking her higher than any drug ever could.
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It's JJ who wants her to sit down in her office the next morning.
"I know it's been difficult for you, I understand what you're going through," the blonde tells her and Emily feels like laughing.
No, she thinks. You don't.
She keeps staring against the wall, counting to 11889 before JJ finally gives up and Emily leaves the room.
She walks straight into Hotch's office, doesn't even concider knocking. He looks startled and confused and even more so when she leaves her badge and her gun on his desk.
She leaves the room without looking back, makes her way down the stairs and over to her own desk where Reid's already waiting for her.
"Emily, you need help."
"No, I don't."
"Emily, please let me..."
"I said no, Spencer!"
She manages another two steps before her knees give in. She's stumbling, falling. Grabs the edge of the desk on her way down, sends folders and paper flying. Her sight gets blurry, fading in and out and then she spots the blood dripping from her nose.
She feels Reid's arm around her waist, hears him call for help. And then she's on the floor and in his arms, her heart beating too fast, the whole room spinning.
He looks frightened, panicked and she feels sorry.
Knows she really should have stayed dead.
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She wakes up in an hospital bed. White walls all around her. Reid sitting on a chair next to the bed.
It feels like deja-vu and that's right, they've done that before.
He's reading, his gentle voice filling the room. And she listens, listens to those familar lyrics of Poe's Annabell Lee.
Remembers that night on the jet when he whispered those words into her ear for the very first time. A lifetime ago.
She can't help but wonder if it's peaceful there, in this tomb by the sea.
Can't help but wonder if Reid would join her, just like Poe wanted to join his Annabell Lee.
But she knows it's only a poem after all.
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"Emily," Reid whispers, before he puts his book down on the nightstand. "Can you hear me?"
He watches as her eye lids flutter open once again, her dark eyes finding his. But they're not the same dark eyes he loved to look at for hours. Those eyes had been warm, full of life. A hidden spark under dark orbs.
Now all he finds is emptiness. Her eyes cold and distant. Drained of every spark that might have been there once.
"Emily's gone," she tells him, her voice firm and broken and unfamiliar. "Emily's dead."
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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 guineapiggie and the amazing clairebare for beta reading!