Clyde Easter stood just inside Emily's office, waiting for her to notice his presence. She was deep in thought, the glow from her laptop screen making her already pale face seem to glow in the dark office as she stared at the screen, thoughts obviously a million miles away.
"Something wrong?" he asked, stepping into the office, alerting her to his presence when she failed to notice on her own.
"No more than usual," she muttered darkly. She was chewing one nail, her brows knit, apparently consternated.
"I see you read the file I sent you," he said sarcastically.
"Which one?" she asked, with a gesture to her overflowing inbox, easily ignoring his tone.
He raised his brows, unimpressed. He picked up the file stamped with a bright red 'URGENT' and waved it in front of her face. "This one."
"Right," she said, snatching it away from him. She pursed her lips as she gave the first page a cursory glance. "I haven't had the chance to go through it yet. I've been a little preoccupied – there's a lot going on around here, in case you hadn't noticed."
"So, I take it that means you heard about your friend and his unfortunate accident?"
Emily felt her blood turn to ice. She swivelled her chair to look him in the eye. "Excuse me?" she asked sharply, tone deadly calm when she felt anything but.
"You hadn't heard?" he said, frowning. "My bad." He sounded entirely unapologetic – smug, almost – in spite of his words.
"What accident?"
"No, it's not my place, clearly they hadn't told you for a reason." He held his hands up as if trying to distance himself from her anger.
"I swear to God, Clyde!" Her hands were trembling from a combination of fear and anger and, not wanting to let him see, she gripped the arms of her chair until her knuckles turned white. "Tell me what happened!" she demanded.
He couldn't help the small smirk, reading her emotions as easily as a book. "You haven't changed a bit, Emily. It's that hot-headed impulsiveness that always got you into trouble..." He shook his head slowly, an undisguised note of condescension in his voice.
"If you don't tell me, I swear, I will get on a plane and fly back to the States if I have to..." she threatened. If someone on the team needed her, nothing on Earth was going to stop her, including Clyde Easter.
"Now, now…it doesn't have to come to that."
"Clyde! For fuck's sake!"
He sighed. "One of my contacts in Quantico mentioned it. Agent Morgan – that's his name, right?" He tapped the picture frame sitting on her desk. "He got hit by a car and he's been in a coma for..." He checked his watch. "...about a week now."
"What?" she rasped, sounding as if all the air had been forced from her lungs.
"Now, if you wouldn't mind, could you please get to the file I gave you? It's quite urgent." He tapped the manila folder and dropped it in her lap. "Emily, I need you to focus on this."
"Focus?" she snapped, incredulous, "After...after that?"
"He is thousands of miles away, on a different continent, and you have a job to do. Unless that job is neurology, focus on the files, please." With that, he turned on his heel and left her office.
With trembling hands, she reached for the picture frame he'd indicated. It was possibly her favourite picture of the two of them – he had his arm wrapped around her shoulders holding her close and, while she was looking at the camera, smiling brilliantly, he was staring at her, eyes soft and tender, like she was the only thing in the whole world that existed in that moment.
She didn't realize she was crying until one tear hit the glass, shattering into as many pieces as her heart.
"That prick," Derek muttered darkly. He stood at the door of Emily's office, glaring at Clyde's retreating back, unable to believe he'd just suggested his near-death experience shouldn't matter to his best friend. "I knew there was a reason why I hated his smug British face from the moment I saw it." He balled his hands into fists, useless though they were in his current state.
"Interesting," Ian said quietly from where he stood over Emily's shoulder, studying the photograph in her hand.
"Hmm?" Derek hummed, still staring after Clyde with red hot anger.
Ian just shook his head, smirking mysteriously. "Nothing. Simply wondering when this jealousy started... Was it before or after she abandoned you for him?"
"Jealous? Of that asshole?" Derek scoffed. "I wouldn't be jealous of him if he were the last guy on Earth. And she didn't abandon me for him – he offered her a job, that's all."
Ian chuckled. "Funny. Because it would seem that of the three of us, you're the only one that hasn't seen her naked." Derek shot him a downright bitter glare. Ian held his hands up in a 'don't shoot the messenger' gesture. "You've hardly made a secret of your desire."
For several moments, he seemed to consider a bitter comeback, then thought better of it and instead said nothing. He sighed wearily. "So, what happens now?"
"Now that she knows?" He shrugged. "Time will tell, I suppose. But even if she were to rush to your bedside, that won't be enough. She could beg and plead and pray and you still won't return to the physical plane until you can overcome whatever block is keeping you here."
"What does that mean? What 'block'?" he asked desperately.
"That's something you need to figure out for yourself. I'm here for her, not to guide you to the other side."
"Screw the other side! I'm not ready to leave!" he said with intensity, eyes blazing. Then, quieter, "I'm not ready to leave her..."
