Author's Note: I want to thank MTwkdtuna for the lovely review. You totally made my day! :) this chapter is for you.
Author's Note 2: Yesterday, I was considering not even finishing this story because I'm not sure many people are really that interested in it. That said, I know that some people are interested (the ones that have followed/faved/reviewed) so I will because it isn't fair to them to leave it incomplete. I just hope that those of you who are following it will leave me a little review once in a while. Even if it is negative, it really is what keeps me motivated and lets me know that I'm not wasting my time. So please, take the seconds to do so. It'll be much appreciated! :)
Chapter Four: Chasing Heaven
0.2mph;
Your mind is buzzing, your whole brain is grating against your skull. One Ibuprofen, two Ibuprofen, three Ibuprofen, a full bottle of ice cold water, but still.. It cuts, and yet it numbs, and it pulls, and yet it pushes, and it really fucking hurts; and you know what you need. You know exactly what you need.
1mph;
It moves beneath your feet, a gentle shuffle that isn't quite enough, but it's a relieving promise. A promise that is reinforced by the backing music beginning a gentle rhythm in your ears. It's longing, it's need, it's your impatient fingers tapping impatiently against the bright yellow button; the bright yellow button that will take you there.
2mph;
Still not quite enough but you're getting there; so close and yet so far. Your muscles grow excited as they wave goodbye to the ache that they've felt for what seems like forever. Your fingers tap some more; 2.1, 2.2, 2.3, 2.4, 2.5.. Still climbing, still chasing that euphoric numbness.
3mph;
The music in your ears is in full swing now; drums, bass, guitars, that almost rustic voice of a guy singing beautiful melodies of living in a false reality and it all combines to push you. You can feel it in your heart. It's a subtle sensation at first, but the slowly increasing perspiration against your skin promises that once you're there, you will feel it right through to your bones. It will pierce through your uncertainty and paint your mind with clarity. It will.
4mph;
So close, so fucking close. It almost hurts now; your calves, your ankles, your feet. Even your hands that refuse to let go of the hand-grips ache, but it isn't time. Thud, thud, thud; the music reaches the chorus and bounces around your mind in time with your feet. Almost. You're so close. Flash; she's there. Right before your eyes. But you tap some more, grip at the handles.. and she's gone again. You're almost there.
5mph;
You're panting now – in, out, in, out, in, out – but it hurts so bad and you're so tempted to stop, to refuse yourself those moments of pure bliss that you know are just minutes away. But your fingers tap some more – tap, tap, tap; 5.1, 5.2, 5.3 – and you're so damn close. Your heartbeat thumps in your chest and your ears and you feel it at every pulse point, and you almost smile. Almost. But the fact that you're still aware of the people around you tells you that you're not quite there yet.
6mph;
You wait for it.. wait for the chorus to come back around. And as it builds, as it climbs to that beautiful semi-climax, you let go. Slowly, carefully, you release your hands and you're.. you're almost flying. No, not quite. Not quite yet. You need more speed but your fingers are already on it; tapping away – they never let you down. But the song has finished and now another melody fills your ears. Somewhat softer than the last but it works nonetheless; works better, actually and is the perfect accompaniment to your blissful transition.
7mph;
You want to sing.. you want to sing so bad, and you're not sure whether it's the song or the feeling in your gut, your chest; the one starting in your fingertips and flooding throughout your entire body. But you just.. you need to sing.. Your heavy breaths remind you that you couldn't even if you tried though, and this brings out an anger in you: you've been denied. Again. Once a-fucking-gain and that anger moves your fingers – taptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptap – more times than you can count but you can feel it.. You can barely keep up now and your chest begins to hurt.
11mph;
It hurts. It hurts so fucking bad and your pants are so frequent now that they almost run into one long breath but then.. but then.. it comes. It finally comes. That incredible feeling of total numbness that takes away literally everything else and for a moment you're almost certain.. no, you are certain, that you've left your body and are watching yourself. Through crystal clear eyes, you are watching yourself chase something that you already have, longing to enjoy the feeling for just a moment longer.. just one more moment.. just one more..
12mph;
You were already there but you greedy and.. that pain.. that pain is new.. that's not usually..
"Are you trying to kill yourself?"
Emily's hands grasped suddenly at the handles to keep herself from falling as the treadmill came to a sudden halt; and with her earphones still plugged firmly into her ears, she recognised the hand slammed against the emergency stop button before she saw it's owner, she noticed the somewhat angry look on Derek Morgan's face before she heard him.
Quickly removing her ear buds, her animal like pants finally filtered into her consciousness as she tried to keep herself steady on almost jelly like legs. "What's yo-your pro-problem?"
"My problem, Emily? I'll tell you my problem.." Morgan's eyes bored into her as he handed her a bottle of water. "The current world record time for running a mile is 3.43 minutes. That's 17.4mph. And that's the best of the best. I hate to break it to you, but you are not the best of the best, you're not even close to the best, and you damn well know that so tell me.. What is your problem?"
"I.." Emily smiled, twisted her neck and looked away as she climbed down off of the treadmill, shrugging as she spoke again between gulps of water and gasping breaths. "I have no problem. We all.. all have to.. to push ourselves from time.. to time."
"To death?" Morgan almost squeaked.
"Oh stop being dramatic." The brunette laughed, her breathing still labored but settling a little as she plonked herself down on a purple mat and began stretching whilst Morgan looked down at her judgmentally.
"I'm not. I spend every day in here, I know what I'm talking about. Did you even check your heart rate? Those things are on there for a reason and not because it's a damn competition to get it as high as possible."
"Oh stop-"
"-no you stop, Emily." Morgan spoke seriously as he crouched down beside her. "It was only eight months ago that you were fighting for your life in an OR. Is it Doyle? Is that what this is about?"
"No." She stopped moving completely, her eyes daring Morgan to even go there whilst at the same time telling him clearly that that wasn't the issue.
"Then wha.." Morgan's eyes trailed momentarily before he snapped his fingers. "I got it! It's that girl you've been seeing."
"I-what-I.." Her words came out with such stuttering ineloquence that she almost laughed at herself. Thankfully though, that was also enough for her to snap back into reality. "Morgan, I've been back, what.. three days? How is there already a rumour about a girl I'm seeing?"
"Oh this is an old rumour.. But my guess is that if she meant enough to you before you well.. you know.." And she did know; they both knew – excruciatingly clearly. "Then.. I'm sure she still means the same to you now and.. Oh, I got it!" He added for the second time with another click of his fingers, seemingly very proud of himself for being the oh so great profiler that he was whilst Emily looked on both incredulous and curious as to what was going to come out of his mouth next. "She doesn't know you're alive, does she! That's it! And you're afraid to suddenly appear at her door like some Evil Dead shit. Though, you know, maybe without the evil part."
His beaming grin almost made her want to agree, to allow him to think that he was right, but bitter words slipped from her lips before she could stop them. "Oh she knows I'm alive. Cares.. well, that's a different story."
His smile faded instantly into an almost grimace. "She pissed that you faked your own death?"
"Something like that." Emily spoke mindlessly as she reached to touch her toes. She knew that that wasn't exactly what JJ was upset about - she knew that it was more the trivialising words that she had given her before she disappeared that had left her so angry - but under this circumstance, did JJ really have any right to be so upset? Wasn't that Emily's right? After all, she was the one helplessly chasing someone who wanted nothing more than one last fling before she settled down.
"She'll understand, ya know, Princess. You just gotta give her time."
"She's had eight months.." Oh fuck. Emily cringed inwardly as she realized that if Morgan had heard what she just said, really heard what she just said, then with just a couple of seconds of heading down the right path, he'd be able to deduce exactly who 'she' was, and that was the last thing that she wanted. She may have been angry, hurt, but no part of her wanted to out JJ before she was ready. She was certain that 'outting' wasn't really the correct word - no one could be a first time lesbian and be that skilled with her tongue - but at the same time it really was. The fact that JJ clearly enjoyed dabbling in the more sapphic side of life obviously wasn't common knowledge throughout the team and it certainly wasn't an assumption that anyone would jump to. Hell, she never would have believed it before that tongue of hers..
"Well not really." Morgan spoke with a frown, clearly missing the vital clue in Emily's words. "She thought you were dead. Technically she's only had a couple days."
Oh thank god. She was grateful, oh so grateful, but a part of her did worry for the future of profiling if this was the BAU's protégé. Unfortunately, whilst mindlessly contemplating that, she was helpless to the further words that slipped from her apparently traitorous lips. "Yep, but a couple of days were enough to let me get her off in the conf-umm.." Her eyes widened; thankfully she wasn't facing Morgan directly. "Conditions! Such, such terrible weather conditions. We had sex outside." She shrugged her last sentence and then held her breath as she waited for Morgan to question her second nuance, but he didn't. God, for being so intelligent, this guy really was a little dumb.
"Prentiss, you dawg!" Morgan gave a swift punch to the brunette's upper arm as her grinned down at her. "So.. details. I wana know."
"Jesus, Morgan." Emily shook her head, smiling a little at how easily she had gotten past his super-elite ever-profiling mind as she pushed herself to her feet and tossed her towel into a nearby can. "You're as bad as Garcia."
"Wha.." Morgan stood to his feet, genuine hurt on his face. "My baby girl knew and she didn't tell me?"
"Well.." Emily began as she headed to her locker to grab her FBI issue hoodie and bag. "Not technically. I don't even know for sure that she does know. Just," she shrugged, "you know what she's like."
"Hmm.." He mumbled to himself before latching onto another question. "So.. what's the issue then? If this girl still wanted you enough to share some Al Fresco lovin' with you then.."
"It isn't love, Morgan."
He'd clearly hit a nerve, and that one, he did not miss. "What is it, Princess?"
Emily pulled her hoodie over her head – a split second to hide the genuine look of sadness in her eyes – before she tossed her bag over her shoulder and spoke. "It's just sex. She needed something from me, I gave it, she left and I.."
"You what.."
She couldn't help it, a small smile that fell somewhere both regretful and amused graced her lips. "I.. stole her panties."
His laugh echoed throughout the large room, startling some of the agent's from their workout and Emily had to suppress her own laugh. "Oh my god, Em. Are you serious?" A small nod gave him his answer and he immediately reached towards her bag. "Lemme see."
"Hey, no." She shifted her body away before walking away from him entirely, continuing when he finally caught up. "I have to return them. It was funny at first but.. she's freaking out and.. well, I'm not an ass. Sometimes I wish I could be but.. alas."
"I could leave her a little surprise in-"
"-do not finish that sentence." Emily waved an almost angry hand dismissively, immediately cutting him off before whatever disgusting thought he was about to verbalise could be completed. "Anyway, what are you doing here? Don't you have some girl's heart to break?"
"You're one to talk." Morgan laughed, purposely glossing over the angry look that Emily shot him. "But you're right. Not until seven though. Gotta get my workout in before the real workout begins.."
She couldn't work out if she was disgusted or warmed by the infamous Derek Morgan wink that accompanied his words, but she loved him nonetheless; shook her head with a smile before walking away. "Don't pull anything, Morgan."
"You too!" He yelled to her retreating form. "And no more stealing!"
'Cause I'm just thinking about us / I've been living in a dream about you / and now I know / you were all I ever wanted on my mind / And if I never see / my own reality / well I'm okay / to leave it all behind.
The song had stayed with her, long after Morgan had so rudely interrupted her moment of pure bliss, long after she'd miraculously managed to evade his curiosity, and when she'd finally made it to her car, she couldn't resist. She didn't care that the vehicle was probably thudding obnoxiously as she took the long route back to her condo, through quiet side streets that were no longer quiet in her presence; she didn't care as she rolled down the windows and belted out each and every lyric, because she wanted to sing and no one and nothing was going to stop her. She would not be denied again. She would not put her heart on the line and have it stomped all over, again. She would not help JJ cross that line and have herself stomped all over, again. No.
And yet.. after she'd finally made it back to her condo, after she'd stood beneath the shower spray humming the very tune that had carried her home, after she'd dried off and thrown on some more comfortable clothes; she found herself back in her car, heading directly for that line, the one that would either be crossed for the final time, or would disappear before her very eyes - her heart along with it.
And yet, too, it was a different song that carried her towards temptation, lead her in search of answers, drove her towards an end or a beginning – she really wasn't sure which – and that song was the same one that had filled her ears on many nights back in Paris. When she had stared out of her window at a breathtakingly beautiful skyline and saw nothing but emptiness. Same band, different message; same voice, different feeling; a much softer melody, a much different kind of pain.
Between both these times / I drew a really thin line / It's nothing I planned / and not that I can / but you should be mine / across that line / If I traded it all / if I gave it all away for one thing / wouldn't that be something?
Her finger tapped against the steering wheel, a somewhat mild gesture that was entirely deceptive and stupidly dishonest; because had she truly allowed herself to recognize the ache in her chest, the not-so subtle pain that the hum caused, the soul crushing way in which the lyrics unapologetically filtered into her mind; she may have turned this car around, headed in any other direction than the one that would lead her to..
"You can't be here."
And, with wide eyes disappearing into darkness, the door slammed just as quickly as it opened.
I promise I might / not walk on by / maybe next time / but not this time. / ...Wouldn't that be something?
Author's Note 3: The two songs used are by Finger Eleven and are called Living in a Dream and One Thing. They're both pretty great; you should check them out if you've never heard them.
