Someone Like You

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas

This story was inspired by the song 'Something Like You' by Adele.

. . . . . .

I heard that you're settled down,
That you found a girl and you're married now,
I heard that your dreams came true,
Guess she gave you things I didn't give to you,
Old friend, why are you so shy?
Ain't like you to hold back or hide from the light,

As she got out of the dark car, Emily wondered what the hell she was doing. She had no idea what had driven her to this after so long. So many years had passed, since she left, and nearly as long since she had categorically told JJ that she would never return.

It wasn't that she hadn't wanted to see her friends any more. God she had been desperate to see them, touch them, reassure them, and even accept their support. She had wanted to tell them, explain everything and ask their forgiveness. Beg if necessary.

But she couldn't. It wasn't pride that stopped her, no it was the one fact that she had to face. She couldn't intrude back into their lives, not once they had moved on. She had already railed rode through their lives; she hadn't been willing to cause another crash.

Yet here, ten years on, she was making her way to her own grave. She wondered if it was the final missing piece of the jigsaw, what she needed to fill the gaping hole in her life. She hoped that it would give her the closure she needed, that she could at last draw a line under Emily Prentiss, and live what was left of her life as Emma Burke.

Head down she walked towards the spot that JJ had described. Bless JJ, she kept in touch. Letting her know how things were; photos of Henry and Jack as they grew, Penelope and Kevin's wedding, her and Will. But then she sent the catalyst for her current actions; the photo of Spencer on his wedding day. Maybe JJ was something else she had to deal with, to cut her finial tie to her old life. Maybe then she could start a fresh, box it all up and pack it away, as if it had never happened.

Emily had no idea what made her look up, as she neared the last tree, before reaching her final resting place. But she was glad she did. She froze, never expecting to see him. Using the tree for cover, and support, she guiltily stood and watched the man's grief.

Emily had recognised him instantly. Older, but yet still young, however no longer a boy. Emily never thought Spencer would look anything other than a college student. He did now; he had a sense of maturity about him. Peter Pan had grown up; physically he started to match his IQ. His dress sense hadn't improved, she smiled.

Emily couldn't take her eyes off him. She was aware that tears were streaming down her face, but she was unwilling to stop them. She deserved to hurt. One look at the outline of Spencer's face and Emily could see what she had put them through. They had been her friends, her family. Knowing that she had done it to protect them gave Emily very little comfort now.

She desperately wanted to go over to him. Hug him and tell him it would all be OK. That she was safe and it was all over. But Emily couldn't, she had made her bed, now she must lie in it.

Slumping down behind the tree Emily sobbed silently.

Suddenly she was aware of movement; her senses hadn't dulled, even after being told Doyle was dead. Swiftly she stood, moving around the tree to shadow herself from him. How could she have been so stupid? She should have known he'd never forget; that he would be here on the anniversary of her death.

She watched him walk towards his car; hastily she dumped the flowers she held next to Spencer's beautiful bouquet of red roses. Turning she returned to her car. She had no idea what was driving her to do this, she knew it was stupid, but she had to do it. She had to see it for herself.

Pulling out, she soon caught up with Spencer, as he drove away from the cemetery. It was then that she was glad that Spencer was still completely clueless in some situations. She was certain that he had no idea she was following him.

Pulling up outside the simple town house, Emily slipped down in her seat. She knew she should start the engine, pull away and live her own life and leave him to live his. She should never have come back. Emily honestly thought after all this time that she would have been forgotten.

She obviously hadn't.

Sitting there, staring at the building she had seen him entered, she had no idea what she was supposed to do now.

Shifting to get comfy, Emily considered how long she was going to sit and stare at the dark door. As she leant forward, to insert the keys in the ignition, movement caught her eye. A young woman, with long blonde hair left the house, with Spencer just behind. She recognised her instantly from the photo JJ had sent her. However, now, she was blatantly pregnant.

Emily was unaware of when she had first fantasised about a future between her and Spencer. She knew, had she of stayed, she would never have acted on it. But a girl can dream. Over the past few years it had become increasingly difficult to decipher dreams from what had really happened. Had she misread his intentions? Was he ever interested in her? Had she really been interested in him? Or was she just desperate for his company and companionship again?

Emily watched them get into his car and drive off. Emily didn't follow them; she drove off, in the opposite direction, back to the cemetery. She needed to think.

Hovering gently by the graveside, Emily rearranged the flowers she had unceremoniously dropped earlier. She looked up at the simple headstone. "Fidelity, Bravery, Integrity"she read, the FBI motto, the words by which she had lived her life for so long.

She slowly traced a finger over the lettering of her name, tears welling for the second time that day.

Emily had come here to complete this part of her life. But now she couldn't walk away. Not again. The dull ache; that she thought she had buried inside her a long time ago, resurfaced. Emily Prentiss wasn't dead; she never had been and never would be. Emily knew she had been lying to herself all this time.

She needed more than ever to explain why she had done what she had done it. She needed forgiveness, before she truly died. She needed to show that she had continued to live by the FBI motto. She had the right to be proud of being Emily Prentiss, and not hide away any longer.

Picking her phone up she made the call.

"JJ?"

"Ur . . . Emma . . . this is a surprise."

Emily was painfully aware of the hesitancy in her former colleague's voice. JJ may have said she could call anytime, but obviously years without such a call, this was more than a shock.

"We need to talk," Emily stated.

"I'm . . . I'm a little busy," JJ's normally calm voice was anything but, "It is the anniversary of the death of a friend of mine. A group of us get together, each year, to remember her, and mark our friendship."

The words hit Emily as hard as any physical punch.

"I'm sorry," she stuttered, "I shouldn't have."

Emily hung up. What had she done?

She should never have come back.

. . . . . .

So I'm running with my muse on this one, and already it's changing so please bear with me. I will update as soon as I can. Please read and review - let me know if it's worth pursuing.