This one's slightly longer, and from here on in it gets a bit more serious as Emily begins the long road to recovery. However there will be a few laughs along the way. It would be depressing if there wasn't. Also Emily gets pissed at the therapist in this. I know nothing about recovering alcoholics or what a therapist would ask them or if they even go to a therapist. So if it's unrealistic that's why. Thank you all for your reviews!

Chapter Four-Therapy

It had been two weeks since the intervention. The hangover eventually wore off, but Emily was adamant she didn't need help. She was too stubborn to realise this was spiralling out of control. She had people on all sides telling her to seek help. Hotch had offered her time off to recover but she wouldn't accept it. There was a different team member at her house every night to make sure she didn't succumb to the temptations of drinking.

She was so sick of all this. She didn't need help, she could control her drinking. But that didn't stop her wishing for just one drink, one drink was all she needed but they wouldn't give it to her. She had even tried bribing everyone, except Hotch. They had all refused.

It was Reid's birthday and the team had decided to go out for a meal. To be nice to Emily none of them ordered alcohol, but she still found herself gazing at people in the next table drinking wine. If she could just have one, it'd be ok. She could have one and stop. Just one.

Garcia caught her staring at the wine glass in the woman's hand. ''What are you look-Emily! You cannot, I repeat CANNOT have wine!''

''Aw come on! Just one glass, one glass, that's all I want, one single glass,'' she explained as she took her eyes off the glass and fixed them upon her team who were staring at her with serious expressions. ''Ok you guys are scaring me.''

''Emily, you can't have wine,'' Garcia stated.

''It's not like I'm going to drink the whole bottle, it's just one tiny miserable little glass.''

''That will lead to another and another and next thing you know you're lying in a gutter singing ASDJ,'' Garcia argued.

''I won't, I promise. I just need the one.''

''And you can't have it Emily. We know you, you can't just have one,'' JJ said sympathetically. She seemed to be the only one showing any bit of sympathy for her. Everyone else was staring at her with a stony expression.

''I can! I can limit myself to one. I just need the one glass to get me through the night.''

''See that's what your problem is. You're relying on alcohol to solve your problems. Emily you don't have to go there, you have us. We can help,'' said Morgan.

''I don't need any help! All I want is one glass of wine! Is that too much to ask?''

''Yes,'' they all replied simultaneously.

''This isn't fair. I am not an alcoholic.''

''Emily, you have to realise that you have a problem with drinking. It took me ages with my...thing, and once I realised I needed help I felt better. I know what this is Emily, it's denial. You think you don't have a problem, but in reality lying to yourself is worse. Trust me I know,'' said Reid.

''Thank you doctor, but I don't need help. I'm fine.''

''Ok, seeing as reasoning with her isn't going to work I'll have to step in,'' stated Rossi. ''Emily you have to get your head out of your ass and realise that you're a mess. Everyone can see it, you haven't been right since the exorcism case, you've always been a drinker but it's really gone downhill since then. You lost your friend, I get that but it was three years ago Emily. Move on. You're just acting like a spoiled child and it isn't helping. You either get help or we'll get it for you.''

The whole table was stunned. ''Ooh tough love,'' Morgan whispered to Garcia. Emily stared open-mouthed at Rossi. Everyone else joined her.

''What? I was just saying what the rest of you were too scared to,'' he defended.

''Dave's right Emily. I'm getting you help, I don't care what you say, you need it. If you refuse it I'll suspend you,'' Hotch stated.

''Fine, suspend me. I don't care. I don't need help. I am one hundred percent fine.''

''If that's the way you want it,'' Hotch said and went back to his meal. Everyone else joined him. But Emily couldn't tear her eyes away from the glass of wine. It just looked so refreshing and she could even smell it's sweet aroma from her seat. She caught JJ's look and quickly moved her eyes away. The rest of them looked back to her and realised she was staring again. ''Ok fine! I'll get help!'' she gave in. Anything to stop the staring.

''Good Emily this will help. And don't send him away like you did the last one,'' JJ warned. The night of the intervention they had called a therapist but she got rid of him.

''This one will be in an office. It will be a relaxed environment, he's one of the best in the business,'' Hotch said.

''Oh great. I'll have to lie on a chair and tell him about my dreams and that it's all my parents fault that I'm drinking and emotionally scarred.''

''Emily don't think of it like that! This guy will help you. You can get through this Emily, you're strong. The strongest person I know,'' JJ said and squeezed her hand.

''Hey!'' protested Morgan.

''Strongest emotionally. You set up all these walls, and they protect you, I know, but you need to let them down. No-one will hurt you. We can help Em but you have to let us in.''

''JJ's right Emily. We want to help you. We know you're a super fiesty independent woman and I love you for that but that doesn't mean you have to do it alone,'' Garcia stated.

''Thanks you guys, and if I wasn't so annoyed at you I'd find all this touching, but dammit! I need a drink!'' Emily groaned.

''No, no no no no. No. Your recovery starts today. That last night you got really drunk was the last,'' JJ stated.

''If I had known that then I would have drank more.''

''Emily, do you have any idea how bad alcohol can be for you? It damages your brain, your liver, your-''

''Reid I'm sure you can give me every bad side effect of alcohol in detail but I really don't want to hear it. I agreed to go to your stupid therapist thing so can we just leave it at that?'' And they did. But they all watched her, and increased their monitoring of her. This was only the first step in her long road to recovery. She had a tough battle ahead and she would need them every step of the way.

They day of the therapy finally came. Reid and JJcame to the therapist's office with her. They said it was for support, but in reality it was to make sure she didn't run off. They were going to stay outside the office all throughout as well to make sure she used her time valuably.c

Emily was sitting on one of those stupid plastic chairs flicking through a magazine from two months ago. Oh how she loathed these places with their stupid plastic chairs and their old magazines and their chirpy receptionists who were too happy to be working in a therapist's office and had annoying shrill voices, and the really loud ticking of the clock and the faint musty smell and the waiting. She hated everything about it. Finally her name was called. JJ and Reid wished her luck and she went inside.

''This was no big deal,'' she told herself. ''Just get in, talk a little, get out. No big deal.'' But when she actually entered the office she changed. It was right there, staring at her, mocking her. The therapist's chair.

''Good afternoon Emily. I'm Doctor Lyons. Come in, take a seat,'' the therapist smiled and let her in. He had a short beard and glasses, and was in his late fifties she guessed. He had a picture of his kids on his desk, but their mother wasn't in it. Dead probably. Profiling the doctor relaxed her a bit, because since he was getting in her head she might as well get in his.

''Am I supposed to sit on that thing?'' she asked, pointing to The Chair.

He laughed, and said ''It'd be better,''. Great, she was being treated the same way as people with mental problems and men who had dreams about killing their wives.

She reluctantly sat down on the lounge chair in the centre of the room. The therapist walked back to his desk, got his notepad and sat in the chair next to Emily. ''Ok Emily, I'm just going to run you through what's going to happen.''

''I've watched T.V. I know what's going to happen,'' she said.

''Ok...so how do you feel today Emily?''

''Bored.''

''Why is this?''

''Because my so-called friends made me go here to get 'help' for my 'alcoholism'.''

''So you don't believe you're an alcoholic?''

''No! I get drunk ok, but I can stop if I want to.''

''Because that's not what they told me.''

''They? They've been talking to you?''

''Yes they have. They're very worried about you.''

''Well next time you decide to have a friendly chat with one of them can you tell them I'm fine?''

''We'll see how today goes. So first of all, why do you drink?''

''I knew you'd ask this. Why does this even matter?''

''Everyone has their own reason for drinking. For some it's a form of escape, for others it's because of peer pressure.''

''Is there any chance I drink just because I like the taste of it?''

''It's a possibilty but from what I've heard, it's more than likely that isn't your reason.''

''Well then doctor what is my reason?''

''Well I don't know you that well Emily, and with further sessions I cou-''

''Whoa. Stop right there. There isn't going to be any further sessions. I do not need help. I just came here to shut them up.''

''Emily there is a problem. They wouldn't send you to me if there wasn't a problem. My opinion is that you drink to feel good, but as time passed you began to depend on it, and eventually alcohol became the only thing that makes you feel good about yourself.''

''That's not true.'''

''As I said, I don't know you that well, but that's my belief from the little I know of you.''

''You don't know me, you said it yourself. You don't know anything about me. You can't make assumptions about me.''

''Moving on,'' he said, sensing that if he continued Emily would tear his throat out. ''When did you have your first drink?''

''I don't know, fifteen?''

''Fifteen, I see. Were you a happy child?''

''My mother was an ambassador. We didn't stay anywhere long enough for me to make friends. My mother was never around, neither was my father. The only company I had were the maids and my book collection. What do you think?''

''I'll take that as a no. Were you a rebellious child?''

Well let's see, I became a goth, started smoking, set my clothes on fire, slept with random guys just to punish my mother for making my life miserable. Maybe just a little rebellious. I was usually a good girl,'' she said sarcastically.

''How often do you drink?''

''Well before a ban was imposed on me, most days.''

''Most days, right, how much would you drink?''

''A glass or two of wine, a bottle of beer, it would depend on the situation.''

''Do you get drunk frequently?''

''Why should I tell you?''

''I'm trying to help you.''

''Ok ya I did. I got drunk every weekend. I'd go to a bar, spend a hundred dollars on alcohol and go back with some guy to his apartment and leave halfway through the night and wake up on my sofa. I'd have a huge hangover in the morning, but hey it was fun, and life is meant to be fun right?''

''And this happened every weekend?''

''Unless we had a case, otherwise yes.''

''And you went out alone?''

''Yep, always on my own. You see the type of friends I have, it's better on my own.''

''Do you often find yourself thinking about alcohol?''

''Who doesn't?''

''That wasn't my question.''

''Fine, yes I do, because I like it. Not because I'm an alcoholic, because I like it.''

''Do you think you could live without alcohol?''

''I don't see why I should have to.''

''Do you ever drink with your friends?''

''Sometimes.''

''But most of the time you'd be alone?''

''Yep.''

''How long does it take for you to get drunk?''

''A while. I can tolerate it better than most.''

''Do you often arrange to go out drinking with your friends?''

''I try to go out as often as I can with them.''

''And how often is this?''

''A few times a month.''

''And do you make the plans?''

''Well it's usually a group thing.''

''You said you're off alcohol. How do you feel about that?''

''I'm delighted. Couldn't be happier.''

''How do you really feel?''

''I hate it.''

''Would you say your performance at work has decreased?''

''I find it harder to concentrate but that's it.''

''How often do you eat?''

''What? I'm not anorexic!''

''It's just a question.''

''Everyday! Why, is there certain foods that contain alcohol that I should be avoiding? What about bananas? I always feel high after eating a banana.''

''How are you feeling right now?''

''Annoyed, bored, desperate for a drink, uh slightly nauseous, it kinda smells in here, and it's a bit hot.''

''You're sweating.''

''Because it's hot.''

''Have you started sweating more?''

''Well it's getting hotter outside.''

''Have you?''

''I suppose. Does this even matter or are you just trying to annoy me?''

''I can assure you I'm not doing this to annoy you. Emily, from what I've heard today you are an alcoholic. The sweating and nauseousness are withdrawal symptoms. You drink to feel better about yourself. You seem to making excuses to drink, and the fact that you're mostly drinking alone is very telling. You're angry, and when asked about your drinking you tend to avoid the question. All these signs point to alcoholism.''

''But I'm not an alcoholic!''

''Admitting you have a problem is the first step.''

''Oh not you too! I don't have a problem.''

''I'm going to give you a pamphlet Emily. I want you to read it, and see how much of it applies to you. Talk to your friends about this. They care about you and want to help. You don't have to go through this alone.''

''Can I go now?''

''You may.'' Emily took the pamphlet, well snatched it really, took her coat and walked out the door, slamming it behind her. ''How'd it go?'' JJ asked as Emily approached them.

''A waste of time,'' she replied, walking down the hall and leaving JJ and Reid running to catch up with her.