I could turn it off or tune it out, but I'm too gone for saving now so what's the use? No matter what I try to do, I'm back and forth, I toss and turn and think of you. The later that it gets, the more I wanna give in…
When the Ian Doyle case had come up, Emily had a horrible feeling in her gut. The way they were killing, she knew exactly who it was, but she couldn't give it away without letting the team know about her past, and thus putting them in danger. The whole case, she did her best to lay low and act oblivious, though she couldn't believe he was going through so much. She'd much rather hand herself over to him than have him killing innocent families. She had snapped at Garcia earlier in the day and felt awful about it, wishing she could go back in time and apologize and be more patient with her, as she was only trying to get her to stop stressing.
At one point she walked into the bullpen, setting her bag down on her desk and pulling off her jacket. She couldn't help but notice Spencer jump slightly when she did so and immediately apologized. "I'm sorry."
He motioned toward the BAU room. "I thought you were in there," he said, turning his attention back to his work.
"…Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm sure these victims overlap somehow. Garcia pulled their phone numbers, but so far I can't find anything."
"You just jumped," she said, toying with her fingers, before lowering her voice. "I know we haven't been very talkative lately, and I've been a little distant, but that doesn't mean I don't care about you. I'm still here."
He licked his lips, sighing. "I've been having these really intense headaches lately," he said softly, eyeing her.
She paused. She couldn't believe that with being so self concerned these past few months, she didn't catch on to the fact that Spencer was hurting. With how paranoid he was about becoming schizophrenic, so to him, headaches wouldn't just be headaches. "Have you seen a doctor?"
He nodded slightly. "Yeah, a few. None of them have been able to figure it out."
Her mouth hung open for a minute before she took a deep breath. "Oh… I'm sorry. Does anyone know?"
"…You."
"You know I won't tell anyone."
He nodded again, licking his lips. "I know. They'd just worry. You know, not that you're not gonna worry, but they'll just make me feel like a baby. You know?" he nervously laughed to himself before looking at his work again.
"…I do."
"How about you?"
She shrugged. "I'm good."
He glanced over at her and smiled to himself. "You've been picking your fingernails again."
She turned her hand over, looking at them. She hadn't even noticed she'd picked up the habit again, but Spencer always knew her better than she knew herself. "…Yeah."
"I thought you only did that when you were stressed. Do you need to talk about something?"
"It's just a bad habit, really, I'm fine." She hated the fact that she was constantly lying to him, but right about now, she didn't see any other choice.
He looked back at his work, raising an eyebrow. "Aha," he closed the folder, picking it up and getting out of his chair. "You coming?"
"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute."
She watched as he took off up the stairs and sunk into her chair, burying her head in her hands. She couldn't believe that she'd let everything get so bad that she didn't even notice that something had been wrong with Spencer. She pinched the bridge of her nose, chewing on her cheek and sighing, wondering just how she'd be able to change everything for the better, and soon.
Before she'd made the decision to take off to Boston, she pulled Spencer aside, hoping to talk to him. Earlier in the day, she was told about him looking up footage from the Tuscan villa, which meant the team finding out exactly what she'd done in her past. She needed to give him an explanation, or at least attempt to, before all of this surfaced. While the rest of the team was in the BAU room, she grabbed Spencer's hand, pulling him into Derek's empty office and closing the door.
He raised an eyebrow. "Hello to you too?"
She moved in, kissing him softly, resting a hand on his cheek. "I love you, Spencer," she whispered. "I don't want you to ever forget that, okay?"
"Of course not, I never would."
She swallowed, wrapping her arms around him, pulling him into a hug and resting her head on his chest.
He looked at her, curious, before rubbing her back. "What's wrong?"
She sniffed, shaking her head. "It's nothing."
"It's not nothing if you're upset. What's wrong?"
She wiped her eyes, sighing, before looking up at him. "I need you to promise me something."
"Of course."
She sniffed again, running a hand through her hair. "Promise me that you'll love me, no matter what?" She saw him ready to interrupt and shook her head. "This is for a good reason, I promise. I just need you to tell me that no matter what happens, and no matter what you ever find out about me, you'll still love me."
"…I promise."
She grabbed each of his cheeks, pulling him in for a kiss, putting in every bit of passion that she possibly could. When she pulled back, she patted his cheek. "I love you, Spencer," she repeated. "I always have and I always will. I promise."
"I love you, too." He checked his watch, sighing. "We need to get going to the briefing. We'll talk tonight at my place?"
She nodded slightly, swallowing and following him out. She'd just lied to him again, and hated herself for it, but after the briefing, she was planning on going to Boston and finishing this on her own.
The entire time she was gone, she had a hint of regret in the back of her mind. She wanted to make everything right and protect her team, her family, from being hurt. When she'd checked her phone and got the voicemail from Garcia, she couldn't help but wonder whether she'd made the right decision. Another bad feeling that filled her was the fact that the team was going to come looking for her. That meant they had dug into her past and knew exactly what she was doing here. More importantly, that meant all of them were in danger, meaning that she needed to fix this situation before any of them got here and tried finding Doyle.
Groaning to herself, Emily rolled over on her bed, reaching for her phone. She didn't care about rules or anything else. What she needed to get through this night couldn't be found at the bottom of a wine bottle, nor would she be able to distract herself with anything to pass the time. A game of online Scrabble wouldn't do anything for her right now except make her grow more and more frustrated, waiting for Cheeto Breath to make her next move. She knew Spencer's phone number by heart and took a deep breath before dialing, sitting up and leaning against the headboard. She had other identities she could take on if she blew her cover, and would be safe no matter where she went, so nothing was stopping her. Checking the clock and doing the math, she realized it was 10:00 back in D.C., and if he was home, Spencer would still be awake. If they were on a case, he'd still be at the station, but she didn't care about blowing her cover.
She froze when the phone was answered. "Hello?"
Her mouth hung open and she blinked a few times, trying to find the words to say. How exactly does somebody tell their boyfriend 'by the way, I'm not dead. I'm alive and well in Paris, I'm still madly in love with you, and I want nothing more than to come home and sleep in your arms again'?
"…Hello?" he said again. "Is anyone there?"
She knew he was checking the number and trying to figure out where exactly the phone call was coming from. She bit down on her lip, wincing to herself, before hanging up and setting the phone on the nightstand. She pressed her palms against her eyes, sliding down the headboard and finally letting herself cry. Now, the pain of being alone was really starting to sink in. Not only was she by herself here, but she'd left Spencer all alone. He'd be depressed, upset, and still quietly dealing with his headaches, not wanting to be a bother or seem like he was trying to get attention from her 'death'. The fact that she did that to him physically made her heart hurt and she buried her head in her pillow, crying until she had nothing left in her.