Disclaimer: The characters of CM are not my property, and I make not a dime from writing about them.

Spoilers: A few.

Rating: M for adult language and disturbing themes.

Chapter Nine

"Between lovers a little confession is a dangerous thing." -Helen Rowland

It has been three weeks since Emily blurted out to Derek that she was in love with him.

Three weeks since Derek responded in the most incredibly convincing way possible that he felt the exact same way about her.

They have made love - sweet, thrilling, mindblowing, toe curling love - almost every night since.

And yet, for the last two nights, she has refused to even answer his calls. She hates herself for it, and she knows that he must be confused by her standoffish behavior. But she cannot see him now. Not after that case. Not after the way she reacted to what was in no way more horrific than anything they saw on the dozens of other cases they worked each year.

What would she say to him?

How would she explain away her behavior, without arousing more suspicion than she already has?

Emily stands beside Derek in the hallway of the hospital, waiting for the doctor to appear and inform them of their latest victim's condition.

"Agents?" They look up at the doctor, a balding man in his late fifties with a ruddy complexion. His eyes are kind, but his expression is grim. His gaze falls to his clipboard before he glances quickly between Morgan and Prentiss.

"We have managed to stabilize Miss Carson. She is resting comfortably, and we expect a full recovery."

The doctor hesitates, then continues.

"She had to be sedated."

Derek nods, unfazed. "She has been through a lot, doctor. That's not really so unusual."

The doctor shakes his head sadly. "No, Agent, it isn't. But Miss Carson was doing well, psychologically. Remarkably well, actually. It wasn't until she learned that the rape caused her to miscarry that we had to sedate her."

Emily's vision swims.

She struggles to breathe, reminded somehow of the stuffy attic that she had sat in to read as a little girl. She might have been eight or nine. It was one of many houses she lived in; she doesn't even remember what city. But she remembers chipping away at the drywall one day when she was angry with her mother, and the fluffy pink insulation she uncovered. It reminded her of cotton candy, until it made her breath catch in her throat and caused her eyes to water.

Forcing herself to come back to present day, Emily clears her throat, blinking rapidly. "She... she had a miscarriage?" She is merely repeating what the doctor has already said, but she does not know what else to say.

The doctor nods again, his eyes filled with pity. "She did. We had to perform a D & C. She didn't even know that she was pregnant till we told her - poor thing."

Emily nods, forcing her expression to remain blank. Her knees are weak, and she no longer trusts her voice.

Derek is shaking his head. "Damn it. Does the husband know?"

"Oh no," the doctor replies quickly. "That has to be Miss Carson's decision."

"What?" Derek's eyes are wide, disbelieving. "He has a right to know, doctor."

Emily runs.

Well, she walks away, very quickly, ignoring Derek as he calls after her. She stabs the buttons on the elevator frantically, willing the doors to open. When they do, she steps inside and rides down numbly, Derek's words echoing in her head.

"He has a right to know."

Derek, of course, questions her. He wants to know if she is okay. He asks her what is wrong. She gives him a vague bullshit non-answer. He doesn't pretend to buy it, but duty calls, and he has no choice but to let the matter drop. For the time being, anyway.

Flying home on the jet, Emily curls up with her head on her arm, facing away from the rest of the team.

When she hears footsteps approaching, she closes her eyes.

Derek says her name, touches her shoulder.

She levels her breathing, mimicking the rhythm of sleep.

Now, sitting in her bathtub with her knees pulled up to her chin, Emily wonders if Derek was right. Maybe Dawn Carson's husband does have a right to know about the pregnancy his wife lost. Maybe Derek has a right to know about the pregnancy she lost. He did, after all, have a hand in it.

But this was never about what he deserved. She had never kept the miscarriage from him to hurt him. It was the exact opposite. She knew how devastating the news would be, so why would she inflict that upon him? Simply to make herself feel better?

No way.

But he was the potential father, and he had already made it clear that he would want to know. Emily sighs, resting her forehead on one knee, her long wet curls clinging to either side of her face. She loves Derek Morgan with all her heart, but she also knows how emotional he can sometimes be. He is, through and through, the quintessential alpha male. Emily Prentiss is pro-choice, staunchly defending a woman's right to choose, and a woman's right to tell, or not tell, anyone at all about any pregnancy or termination of pregnancy.

She has never discussed any of that with Derek, and frankly, she is not sure she wants to. Even hypothetically. She finds "pro-life" to be a nonsensical term, and is annoyed by people who tout that philosophy. She very much would prefer not to know if Derek is one of those people.

She also knows that, whatever her political views, nothing is that black and white.

That simply because a woman has the right to keep the news of a pregnancy to herself, does not necessarily mean it is the right thing to do in every instance.

What if he is angry with her?

What if this is the last straw - the one thing he cannot forgive her for?

What if he doesn't love her anymore?

Emily is jerked from her reverie by the distant sound of someone pounding on something.

"Emily Prentiss, open this goddamn door before I break it down!"

Derek.

Oh fucking Christ.

The pounding continues as Emily stands and steps out of the tub, grabbing for a towel. She knows that he is not about to go anywhere; he will stand on her porch all damn night if she doesn't answer.

That, or he really will break the door down.

"I'm coming!" Emily yells loudly, hoping it will shut Derek the hell up before her neighbours call the police. It works. The pounding stops, and Emily uses what she is sure is a very short window of time before Derek resumes his obnoxious banging on her front door to quickly slide into a pair of cotton pajama pants and an FBI t-shirt.

Still towel drying her hair as she walks to her front door, Emily takes a deep breath, sets her face stoically, and opens.

Derek is pacing, his arms crossed.

When the door opens, he whips around to face Emily, his mouth already opening to speak.

Oh yeah, he is definitely pissed.

"Emily, what the fuck?" His eyes are snapping angrily, his brows drawn together. "I call, you don't answer. I leave messages, you don't call back. You have been avoiding me since the Des Moines case. Do you have any idea how worried I was? Did you honestly think I wouldn't bring my ass down here to check on you? What were you - "

"Derek, stop!"

He does. He rubs a hand over his head, sighing. When he speaks again, his voice is quieter, but still angry. "Emily, I need to know what is going on with you. You're scaring me."

At that, Emily bites her lower lip, hard. She stares into Derek's face, her mind a whirlwind of panic and uncertainty. She can feel panic building in her chest, and she swallows against it.

"I don't want to scare you, Derek. I'm gonna be okay. Really. I'm just... I'm having some bad dreams."

Derek shakes his head firmly. "No. No, Emily. You're lying to me. This is beginning to feel a whole lot like about a year ago, and it's freaking me the hell out. There is something going on with you, and it all started to surface during this last case. In the hospital, you bolted when the doctor started talking about Dawn Carson being sedated. You haven't been right since."

Fucking goddamn it all.

Emily's stomach is clenching painfully now. Derek is beginning to piece it all together. He is good at this, and she knows it won't be long before he lands on news of Dawn Carson's miscarriage as Emily's stressor.

"Derek, please don't do this." Her voice is too soft, almost timid, the words wrapped in cotton and silk.

Derek walks inside her apartment, closing the door behind him. He stops in the middle of her living room. "Forget it, Em. We are doing this. Last time you begged me not to push something with you, I almost lost you forever. I love you, damn it. Just talk to me."

Emily grits her teeth, anger sparking suddenly behind her dark eyes. "Will you stop that? This is not the same thing! No one is trying to kill me, Derek. I am just going through some things right now."

"Yeah, okay. You're going through some stuff. Then tell me, Emily. We can get through it. Whatever it is, no matter how awful it is, we can get through it. I will help you get through it. I promise, Emily. You just gotta talk to me."

More than anything, Emily wants to believe that what Derek is saying is true.

Time stands still, as she nods slowly and opens her mouth to speak.

As you can see, I am veering a bit from the direction the show is currently taking (the case I mentioned is my own invention, and the time frame is somewhat left to interpretation). I kind of had to, to make this all work and fit properly. As always, thank you for reading. And as always, I value reviews more than I love mint chocolate chip ice cream, and more than I hate mayonnaise. :)