I see her, sitting across from me, and I wonder why she did it.
She looks so fragile to me, like a fine porcelain doll. I know she isn't fragile. I know she's strong, much stronger than I am. I am weak… I let her take a beating for me. What kind of man does that to a woman?
My mother taught me when I was very small, to be respectful of women. She taught me things like opening doors for girls, and standing when they entered the room. She made sure that I knew hitting girls was unacceptable.
When I joined the BAU, I met women like JJ, and Elle, and Emily, women who carried weapons and could take care of themselves. Still, Emily seemed fragile to me as though she might break at the slightest touch.
I was wrong of course. She's strong, but still, I should have stood up first and said I was the FBI agent. I should have taken the beating in her place. She said it wasn't my fault on the plane, but I saw the bruises on her face and the way she stood as if in pain from her bruised body.
Emily told me not to blame myself for the whims of a mad man. But how could I not, she's my friend, and I should have taken her place.
I was afraid, and I was weak. I thought I could reason with him, keep him talking so he'd put down his gun. Obviously, it didn't work!
It doesn't matter what she says, I'll always be weak, and nothing will ever change that fact. It doesn't matter that I was the one to establish a rapport with Cyrus. It doesn't matter that he wouldn't have listened to, or respected Emily. It doesn't matter because she had to protect me. Do you understand? She felt like she had to protect me because of Tobias Henkel. She doesn't have to tell you admit it. I could see it in her eyes.
I sit across from her and watch her work at her desk. The bruises are fading and her split lip is healing. She no longer sits ramrod straight to keep back the pain in her ribs. She looks up and smiles at me. I smile back but it's a strained smile.
Will she see? I can't let her see. You see, I'm protecting her now. She must never know that every time I see her beautiful face, I see the wounds and the bruises. She must never know that every time I brush by her in the conference room, or on the plane, I feel the electric shock that rocked me when she embraced me after the explosion. She must never know that every time she smiles at me, I bleed!
She must never know…
