I wish there was something I could do to change CBS's mind about getting rid of Paget. To say that my heart is breaking is an understatement. Em is my favourite character - on the show and to write. But no matter what happens, the woman I created in my stories will always be happy, healthy, alive, and kicking UNSUB butt with her combat boots. CBS be damned.
I have always loved Celine Dion's "Vole (Fly)" and wondered how to use it in a plot. This story came to me while I was standing in the shower trying comprehend the end of Criminal Minds as I know it. I could see the moment and feel the anguish as Em has accepted the end and now has to say good-bye.
I don't own Criminal Minds. If I did, Nina Tassler would be leaving and Paget would stay.
Song Prompt: "Vole (Fly)" by Celine Dion
Vole
That area between sleep and awake is called a dream, and I will always be there for you…
She had always been afraid of death. To just be "gone" but still around was incomprehensionable . But it had happened…and sooner than she expected. Though, didn't it always? It had seemed like a dream to be hovering over her body and watching the doctors doing everything in their power to bring her back. It was so tempting to close her eyes and go back to how it used to be, but she couldn't. Her time was up. She had done everything she was supposed to. It was time to move on.
Of course, there was no denying that when the doctor pronounced time of death and pulled the sheet over her face, she cried out "No!" -it was a normal reaction to want them to work a miracle and bring her back. But they couldn't. No one could. And why not? After all, her spirit and body had been joined as one for forty years. It was difficult not to get attached. As acceptance filled her, there was sadness as she watched them quietly leave the room.
But she needed one more look. It wasn't vanity dictating but the need to make it real.
Then she heard it…that sound of denial and anguish…pure heartbreak that touched her even when she was no longer capable of human emotions. But she was still capable of love, and the sound she heard was love in its rawest form.
She didn't know how she got from one room to another but she was standing in the hallway outside the OR. The doctor was walking away. There was nothing else he could tell them; they had done everything they could - sometimes God had a different plan.
Morgan took it the hardest. He slammed his fists against the wall and spit out curse words. He wasn't going to believe that there was nothing else to do. She was alive; they just had to try harder to bring her back. He demanded that the doctors go back in and work their magic. But there was nothing they could do for her anymore. She was gone.
Morgan lurched for the doctor, but Rossi pulled him back. She sighed.
Rossi. The anchor of the team and the reason why she went into the FBI. Everyone knew the legend…the father of the modern day BAU. She had attended his seminars and lectures and read his books with a hunger she couldn't explain. He had set her soul on fire and made her want to be an agent. He had retired before she could meet him, but his lessons stayed with her.
So when he did come back from retirement, she thought all of her prayers had been answered. But that didn't mean everything was heaven…a part of it had been hell. They were too much alike in temperament, attitude, and personality. Someone had once called her the female version of David Rossi…and except for the facial hair and three marriages…they were right. They may have been similar, but that didn't stop the two of them from butting heads, she thought wistfully, in a way it had been fun. Because she loved him.
She had always loved him. Her teen-age crush had blossomed into admiration thru his lectures and books. And when they finally met, she was in love. But what wasn't there to love? He was everything a woman could want in a man…except for the ability to commit. And he was an anal-retentive, fussy, neat freak. But he was also a man of integrity. He took her secret and made it his. Nothing short of death would make him part with it. He would go to the grave with it. And in her book that made him nearly perfect and she would love him forever. Now she wished she had kissed him when she had the chance.
She closed her eyes as she tried to think. She had to say good-bye and move on, but as she opened her eyes and looked around, the sound of PG's sobs overwhelmed her.
Oh, Penelope, she thought as she watched the red haired computer tech analyst weep into a handkerchief. It took everything she had not to reach out and touch the woman she considered a sister…and after all, why not? She was in Pen's top eight!
The red hair truly matched the little stick of dynamite called Penelope Garcia. And anyone who had any common sense would know better than to cross the woman who literally held the whole world in her hands…albeit it was the internet world, but she could still ruin someone's weekend in ways the devil would envy.
At first, she hadn't known what to make of the little woman with the outrageous wardrobe and lair full of bright coloured things and troll dolls. After what had happened with Elle, she understood the wariness of welcoming a stranger into the fold. But a woman always needs a friend…especially when surrounded by men. And over time, friendship developed to something so deep and pure that she had to pinch herself. For the first time in her life she had a sister. And what a sister!
Straight forward, brutally honest, and so full of love it could make the angels weep - there wasn't a more decent person on earth than Penelope Garcia. She had lost everything and everyone she loved and wanted for nothing more than to be left alone…until that day she hacked into the wrong system and the US Government decided "if you can't beat them, get them to join you" and she changed the FBI in ways that would have put J Edgar Hoover's panties in a bind.
When Pen had nearly died, life almost came to a stop. Holding fast to JJ's hand, she prayed for the first time in her adult life. Ah, JJ…she would come back to her later. They almost lost Pen that night, but the angels must have known that that wonderful bubbly, double entendre, love machine was needed down on earth. Never did she take for granted the second chance to have her sister back. Besides, God knew Henry needed Pen as his godmother. So did Morgan…
Derek Morgan - the hard charging, bull-headed, arrogant, skirt chasing, renegade FBI agent…with a heart of gold. He was jaded and hurt, but he was no fool. Honour, integrity, and team were in his dictionary, but not love. There was no time for love when catching bad guys destroying innocent lives. But she wondered if it had something to do with his father being gunned down. Conventional wisdom dictated that he should have gone the wrong way, but after meeting Fran Morgan, she knew why Derek chose the right path.
Still…Derek had his moments. Whether it was teasing her for being a nerd, risking his life, arguing an issue, or taking over the team when they were a man down, he could always be counted on to do the right thing. Even if it sometimes made him unbearable to partner with, but he was thorough and dependable and always stuck to his guns.
He was like the older brother she never had. And there were the times when she thanked God for him, yet just as often, she cursed the day she met the man. Infuriating and pompous - she wanted to kick his ass on more than one occasion - but she loved him. She wondered why she never told him how much he meant to her. He was tough and suave, but deep down inside he was just as much a nerd as she…was. She was. She had to think in the past now.
Seeing him in tears and broken down was not the image she wanted to remember him by…she needed to look away.
Footsteps approached. Oh God! Was that JJ coming down the hall? Cool, blonde, and dressed conservatively, the woman approached the team and stopped. Nothing was said because it was all over everyone's faces.
Don't cry, Jayje, please don't cry, she pleaded. But it was fruitless to wish for that because she and JJ had loved each other deeply. If Pen was the sister she never had, JJ was her twin. Whether it was reading her mind, or keeping her in line, the cool blonde always had a way of calming down the storm.
When Rossi left unannounced to solve his cold case, it was JJ who arranged for the jet to take the remainder of the team up to help. When tempers on both sides of an investigation were ready to explode, she was the one who stepped in between and got thing calmed down. She was eye of the hurricane: cool, calm, and collect on every level.
If she could have come back as any one, it would have been a carbon copy of Jennifer Jareau. There was always something about JJ that left a person wondering if there wasn't more to her. JJ wasn't learned by private schools and raised in political protocol and etiquette as she had been. Neither was she cultured and spoiled…she was the real deal on every level.
She loved JJ more than life itself and it was going to be so hard to say good-bye to her and to that little boy named Henry. JJ was so lucky to have a son who looked up to her and worshipped the ground she walked on. When she thought about it, she was jealous. What if she had decided to keep her baby? Would she have been as great a mother as JJ? Whenever she had caught JJ holding Henry or talking about him, her heart had hurt for what might have been.
She always meant to ask JJ why Pen was chosen as Henry's godmother. Was it because deep down inside there had been a premonition that the end was near and it wouldn't have been fair to a little boy to lose his godparent? Or had JJ known about the abortion and thought it might to be painful to be around a baby? She would never know the answers…and now it didn't mattered.
Was Reid crying? No! She had never seen Spencer Reid cry. Never. He had come close to breaking down a time or two, but never tears. Even when taking a bullet in the knee, he had cursed and moaned, but never cried. She wondered more than once if he was incapable of crying or if it was part of his defense mechanism from growing up in a house with a paranoid schizophrenic? Even when his life was in balance with Tobias Henkel, he had remained stead fast and together.
She had never wanted to see him break down. It was almost too much to bear. He was her little brother, the scruffy, nerdy hanger on, inquisitive, boy genius who always had an answer or statistic for anything. Except for what was happening right now. Hell, she was dead and didn't have the answer, why would a man with seven degrees have one? But it sure would have been interesting to hear his take on things.
JJ was comforting him. But she was trying to comfort everyone - except one…Hotch.
Could spirits cry? She wanted to. She wanted to run back to the room and jump back into her body and yell "Surprise!" if it meant wiping that devastated look off his face.
Oh God! Where is he going…? No, Hotch! Don't go in there! She shouted but he couldn't hear her. She watched the team leader walk into the room, past the double doors.
Not a word was said as he pulled the sheet back and looked at her face. Oh God! Is that what I look like? Oh Aaron… She reached out to touch him but stopped. This was his moment with…her. Or what used to be her. So, she stood to the side and watched and listened.
The words never came…but what could be said? It wasn't as though she was expecting a declaration of love….though that would have been nice. Except that wasn't who Aaron Hotchner was. He was a team leader and an example for others to follow - he didn't break down and show emotion. He never did anything that didn't serve a purpose. He had to be the most selfless man walking the earth. He had lost everything one man could imagine and yet he still focused on the team. Okay…maybe that was selfish, but no one could argue with his sense of right and wrong.
How had he kept it together after Kate and Haley and Foyet? What kind of strength did he possess that set him aside from other men who had occupied his title and failed - not the job, but themselves? What kept him going when others would have walked away?
Then it dawned on her: love. Love for his family and friends and his country was what drove him. And now that she knew the truth, how could she ever let him go…? What was he doing? Was he tracing a finger along her cheek? This was too much. She had always wanted him to let go and feel - where the team was concerned - but not here. Not now. And definitely not like this. Was it too late to wish for all of this to be a bad dream?
But it wasn't. The moment was real. The corpse on the table was real. And so were the tears dropping from the stoic Aaron Hotchner's eyes to land on her still warm face. Oh, what she would give to reach out and touch him the way she had always wanted to. Like the others, she had always loved Hotch. Through the good and the bad and the ugly, she had loved him like no other man.
She could have pursued him. She should have pursued him. But she didn't. She kicked herself for not putting in for that transfer. Now she would never be able to ask him out and teach him how to break the rules. God, she wished she had made love to him when she had the chance.
The doors were opening again and Dave was stepping inside….something about they needed to leave because Em had to be taken downstairs. Hearing Dave say it out loud made it real. She was gone.
Now they were both looking at her. That lost and empty look they shared was heartbreaking, but it was the look of love lost that was too much for her to bear. She had to get out of there.
It was time to go. She would be allowed to come back for one last good-bye. But for now, there was nothing she could do to help; the team was going to have to reach acceptance on their own.
She took one last glance at the beautiful woman on the table, then she closed her eyes and faded away…
