After the SUV blows up, nothing else matters.
JJ is at the FBI headquarters when it happens. She sees it on the CCTV, and is aware that the noise coming out of her mouth is something like a scream.
"WHOSE WAS THAT?" she screams. She looks around wildly at the people who surround her, wondering furiously why they aren't doing anything.
"WHOSE SUV WAS THAT?" she asks again, but no one answers. They don't know.
And then her phone is ringing and the voice on the other end of the line is Morgan's. He's speaking urgently, reassuring her, and she isn't able to make out any of the words until "Prentiss," and "going to be okay."
"What?" she presses the phone harder to her ear as though that might make the words come through more clearly. "Emily?"
"It was Prentiss' SUV," Morgan says. "Do you have a visual on her or Davis? Can you see the damage?"
JJ looks back at the Monitor, surprised to see that the picture is blurry. Surprised to find that when she blinks, the image clears, and blurs again.
She is crying.
"Emily?"
"JJ!" Morgan's voice is insistent. And now everyone around her is moving. Now everyone is one a phone. "Focus! Tell me what you see? Do you have a visual on either woman?"
JJ blinks hard. "No," she says finally. "No. Oh, my God, Morgan, The first responders won't get through. We told them to hold back. We told them not to go in, but they have to. They have to get Emily out!"
There is a brief silence on the other end of the line, and when Morgan finally speaks, he says her name in a gentle, understanding way that makes her hold in a sob.
She tries to calm the screaming in her head so that she can think.
"We'll get her out," she says into the phone.
Morgan has already ended the call.
…
…
"You know, I see the way you look at her."
JJ spins to see Inspector Davis approaching her, pulling her blazer up over her shoulders as she steps out into the wind. She wonders for a moment where Emily is, and why she hasn't noticed their combined absence. Emily has been pulling off some serious contortions in an attempt to never let them be together without her.
"Excuse me?"
Inspector Davis smirks at her. "Emily," She says, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of her back pocket. She offers one to JJ, who declines. "I see the way you look at her, the way you treat her, and I feel it's my duty to warn you: there's only heartbreak there."
JJ bristles, but she tries not to let it show. "I don't look at her in any particular way," she says carefully. "We work together."
The other woman scoffs as she lights up. "Bullshit," she says easily. She doesn't sound bitter or jealous, just amused. "You look at her like she's single handedly saved you from a serial killer. You look at her like she gave you the first and only orgasm of your life."
JJ tries not to look scandalized. "Agent Davis," she says. "I'm not sure that-"
"Corrine," She says. "You can call me Corrine."
"Agent Davis," JJ says, a little more firmly. "You're out of line."
"Yeah, okay," Corrine waves her words away like cigarette smoke. "Play dumb. I'm not a profiler, but your face doesn't lie, Agent Jareau." For a split second, JJ thinks she does see a flash of jealousy in the other woman's expression. "It's not like I didn't think she'd move on fast. Nothing really cuts her deep."
JJ is momentarily too caught between anger and surprise to answer.
"You…Don't know what you're talking about," she says finally, which is lame, even to her own ears. "I mean. I'm not in any kind of romantic relationship with Agent Prentiss," she continues.
"Deny, deny," Corrine says teasingly. "Your secret is safe with me. And no one could have told me anything about her when I was in love. The master of fucking deceit."
"Don't talk about her like that," JJ grinds out. "You don't have the right."
Corrine laughs, blowing cigarette smoke through her nose. "You're right, Agent Jareau," she says in mock seriousness. "Where is my head in this trying time?"
She looks away from JJ, dropping her cigarette onto the ground so that she can grind it out with her foot. She turns and heads towards the front door, not looking back over her shoulder as she calls out,
"enjoy her while it lasts."
…
…...
"She's refusing to be seen."
It's the first thing she hears when she and Spencer burst through the swinging doors of the ER.
"Emily?" she asks frantically, advancing on the doctor who has spoken. "You're not going to see her?"
"No, ma'am," The doctor pales slightly under her stare. "We tried to treat Agent Prentiss. She's refusing."
"What? Why?" She's yelling. She can tell that she is yelling by the way other people are looking at her, and the way Spencer puts his hand on her arm. But she is not able to correct her tone.
"Her SVU just blew up! It took her over an hour to get here. Why wouldn't she want to be seen? Where is she? Why aren't you forcing-"
"Agent Jareau." Hotch's voice makes her break off. She turns to see him striding towards her.
"Emily won't let the doctors tend to her," she says, turning her fear and rage on this man, who she knows can endure it. "And they aren't even trying to-"
"Agent Prentiss is with Inspector Davis," Hotch says. The end of his sentence is loud as JJ stops talking.
Davis. Corinne. JJ hadn't even stopped to wonder how the other person in the car had fared the explosion.
"Corrine," she says now. "Is she-"
"No," Hotch shakes his head. "She didn't survive the blast."
JJ feels her mouth fall open. "What?"
Hotch steps closer, nodding in confirmation. "Corrine died, JJ."
"Oh…no."
"She most likely wouldn't have made it, even if the ambulances had been allowed through."
"Oh, Emily," JJ says without thinking. If he understands, Hotch makes no comment.
"She's with Corrine's body," he says, "She's refusing to be seen until Inspector Davis' parents get here."
"That could be days," JJ hears herself say. She doesn't know if this is new information for him. Is Derek there? Would he have told them that Corrine is English.
Was. She was English.
"She can't wait that long," JJ repeats.
Hotch just looks at her, and it takes her a moment to realize what he isn't saying out loud.
"Where is she?" she asks, and she thinks that Hotch's face shows just a bit of approval when he nods, and gestures that she should follow him.
...
Emily is sitting in the shadowed morgue, head bowed, next to a table covered with a sheet. JJ knows that the body under that sheet is Corrinne Davis.
Her body, and nothing more.
"Emily?"
The brunette doesn't answer. She doesn't even move. She sits on the stool adjacent to the inspector's body, staring at the floor.
There is road burn along the side of her face, still red and raw. Her normally immaculate button up shirt is torn at the shoulder, and bloody. Most alarmingly of all, the ear that JJ can see has one red line of blood that drips down to her chin.
"Oh," JJ breathes, "Emily."
Emily still does not appear to have heard her. She lifts her head to look at Corrine's sheet covered body as though she could will the life back into her. As though her statue-like stillness will force the corpse next to her into motion.
JJ moves forward, wanting to touch Emily, just to make sure that she's there and still breathing.
"Emily," she says again, and this time she puts her hand on the other woman's shoulder.
The contact makes Emily jump, but she doesn't look away from Corrine.
"It should have been me," she says lowly. Her voice sounds calm and clear.
"No, Em," JJ begins, but Emily cuts her off firmly.
"Yes, it should have," she says. "I'm not suicidal. Just logical. It should have been me." She shakes her head slightly, as though to free her head of ringing.
"Who would miss me, anyway?" She murmurs.
JJ knows that this is not a direct insult, but she still feels the words sting at the very base of her spine. She can hear herself saying that sentence, all those months ago.
"Who would miss you? You call your own mother the Ambassador."
"This is not your fault," JJ whispers. She doesn't move her hand from Emily's shoulder. "This is not your fault," she repeats.
Emily's eyes flicker, and a tear slips down to her cheek. "Of course it is," she says blankly.
"I dragged her over here, and now she's dead."
"Em-"
"It's what my father believed. Did I ever tell you that?" Emily looks at JJ, but her eyes stay far away, seeing things that the blonde cannot access. "I was five or six, and he was dying, though I didn't know it at the time. He was a difficult personality, that's what my mother always used to say. And three days before he died, I overheard them talking about me."
Emily pauses, and JJ holds her breath, wanting to hear the rest of the story, but unwilling to prompt her because she knows the ending will not be a happy one.
"They were discussing whether I should be allowed to stay with his family in London, or begin living full time with my mother, and travel according to her job. It was the only time I think I've ever heard my mother say she wanted me, though it wasn't because of love, or even out of obligation.
"She told him she would take me with her, and he asked her if she would really do such a thing. If she would really inflict me on that many people. If she didn't understand just what I was."
JJ flinches. She bites back her tears, because she knows that the other woman will misinterpret them.
"You're hurt, Em," she says softly. She doesn't know what else to say.
Emily doesn't seem to notice the change in subject. "I have to wait for her parents."
She turns her bleary eyes to JJ once more. She blinks slowly, like she's just now recognizing who is next to her.
"JJ? My SUV blew."
"I know," JJ says. She takes Emily's face in both of her hands. "Let me help you."
Tears drip down the brunette's face. "Jennifer," she says thickly. "She died. I held her hand, and she...I watched her…"
"I know, sweetheart," JJ murmurs. She bends down without thinking, and presses her lips to Emily's temple.
It feels like the most natural thing in the world, and so JJ does it again.
Emily sighs into the contact.
"Come on," JJ says softly, and she pulls Emily to her feet. "Let's get you cleaned up."
"I have to be here when her parents come."
"You will be. I promise. But you need to get evaluated, okay?" JJ leads Emily out of the morgue, one hand around her waist, the other on her shoulder.
"Jen," Emily says, leaning heavily against JJ. "Don't leave me."
JJ shakes her had. "I won't," she says. "I promise."
…
…
They are half way through briefing on the plane when JJ feels Emily tense.
"Emily?" She looks around to see the brunette frowning down at her tablet. She is several documents ahead, and JJ scans the image looking for what has caught her attention.
"Emily?"
On the speakerphone, Penelope stops talking, and the others all look around at JJ, clearly wondering what is happening.
"I…" Emily manages to unstick her tongue with some difficulty. She says the words as JJ sees them on the page, and something sharp stings the back of her throat.
"The lead analyst and I have a history," she says quietly.
Hotch looks down at his own tablet. "Corrine Davis," he says. His voice holds no emotion.
"Yes, sir," Emily says. She matches his tone completely.
JJ wonders if the other woman can feel that her hands are shaking. She hopes not.
"Will it interfere with your ability to-"
"No!" Emily says quickly. She looks around at all of them in turn. "No," she repeats. "It won't."
Hotch nods, looking back down. "Penelope?" he calls.
"Yes, sir?"
"You were saying?"
"Ah…yes, sir. The shootings are all seemingly random. So far there is no connection between locations, victims…"
It is hard to listen to Penelope for the rest of the briefing. JJ steals several glances at Emily, to see if there are any clues on her face as to how she might be feeling, but as usual, the brunette looks alert, professional, and absolutely nothing else.
She has done what her moral compass required her to do, and revealed her relationship with Corrine. Now she can focus on the case without guilt.
JJ is awed, and a little afraid.
As they are exiting the plane, she takes Emily's arm to hold her back. She sees that Morgan looks a little peeved she's beaten him to this.
"Em-"
"It's alright JJ," Emily cuts her off at once. "I meant what I said to Hotch."
JJ is momentarily off balance. "What? Oh…no, I'm not worried about-"
"I know I said stuff about her that night I was drunk," Emily goes on. Is it JJ's imagination, or is the other woman's tone…gentle? "But I was, well, drunk. And I can keep it together around-"
"Oh, God, Emily no!" It is JJ's turn to interrupt. "I just wanted to see if you were okay?"
Emily's brow knits in concern. "What?"
"Did you know she was here? It must have been kind of a shock, right? I…just wanted to make sure you were okay."
Emily blinks. This was clearly not what she expected. "I'm okay," she says after a moment. She smiles tentatively, like she isn't sure it's the right move. "Thank you for checking on me," she says sincerely.
JJ wants to take her hand or pull her into a hug. She wants to do something to establish the connection between them that appears to be broken in the face of this development.
"...Kay," JJ says reluctantly. They speed up to rejoin the team. "If you're sure."
Emily gives JJ a sidelong glance that is very hard to read.
"I'm sure."
…
…
Emily is silent through the evaluation, her hand in JJ's still and as cold as ice. She has burst eardrums, bruised ribs, road rash.
She is incredibly lucky, the doctor says, but there's no way she'll be able to fly home with her ears in that condition, not for at least 48 hours.
"I'm going to take her back to the hotel," JJ tells Hotch. "Any word on Davis' parents?"
"The earliest they could get out is tomorrow morning."
"That will give her a chance to rest," JJ says, feeling relief sweep her body. "She needs sleep."
"JJ," Hotch begins, but she waves away whatever he is going to say because Emily appears at that moment, half supported by a concerned looking nurse.
"Over here, Em," she calls, and Emily turns her head to look at her. It takes her eyes a long moment to focus, but when she sees them standing there, she tries to stand up a little straighter.
"I'm fine," she says as the nurse tries to transfer her arm to JJ's. "I'm fine."
"You're not fine," JJ says gently, although Emily does sound and look much better than when she disappeared to re-dress. Her voice is calm and convincing, and JJ thinks she would fool most of their team.
"Has anyone heard from the Corrine's parents?" Emily looks at Hotch, pretending not to notice how his eyes search her face.
"They won't be in until the day after tomorrow," Hotch answers. "At the earliest, Prentiss. So what you need now is rest. Go back to the hotel and rest."
He holds out his hand as she starts to protest. "That's not a suggestion," he says. "JJ will drive you."
"Permission to stay on until they arrive," Emily says quietly.
"JJ will stay with you," Hotch says with a nod, and when Emily looks up to protest, he takes a step closer and lowers his voice. When he speaks, he sounds almost kind.
"You are injured," he says. "I would request the same of any agent in your position, Prentiss. It does not portray weakness to accept that you need temporary help."
Hotch turns to JJ. "Penelope will send you the End paperwork, JJ."
JJ's hand has some how migrated to the small of Emily's back. She doesn't move it.
"Yes, sir," she says, and she waits until he has turned away to brief the rest of the team before gently turning Emily in the direction of the exit.
"Jennifer?" Emily's voice quavers, and JJ is unable to suppress the spasm of happiness that comes with knowing Emily has trusted her with vulnerability.
"Yeah?"
"Where are we going?"
"To the hotel. We're going to get you cleaned up and in bed for some rest."
"I need to be here for-"
"I know," JJ cuts her off softly. "You will be. I promise."
There is a brief silence as they move slowly toward the parking lot. JJ tries to remember what Emily had done for her when Penelope was in surgery.
And after. What had she done after?
JJ pulls her arm from around Emily's waist and takes her hand. The brunette's expression, which had fallen at the loss of contact, shifts from surprise to something else. Something almost calm.
"It's going to be okay," JJ whispers. She squeezes Emily's hand.
"I'm here."
…
…
Emily has a horrible dream. JJ is sleeping curled into her side, something she's come to rely on, when she feels Emily start to shiver. JJ sits up, glancing at the clock. It is just after 1am.
"No," Emily says quietly. She shifts a little in her sleep and JJ can see her eyelids flutter. "No," she says again.
JJ reaches out to smooth the other woman's brow. "Hey," she says softly. "It's okay."
She's used to Emily's occasional bad dreams, and she is usually able to calm them before they really take hold. At first, this one does not seem much different. Emily's brow furrows under her fingers.
"Please," she says, throat tight. "Don't."
JJ sits up on her elbow. "Hey, Em, "she says, a little louder, 'it's just a dream."
Emily jerks suddenly away from her, twisting in on herself, pulling her knees up to her chest.
"Please," she gasps again. "Please don't do this."
JJ follows her instinctually, reaching for her. Her hands on Emily's shoulders make the other woman flinch away.
"Please," begging now, her voice heavy with something that JJ cannot immediately name. "Please. Anything you want. I'll do anything you want just…please."
JJ swallows as it hits her. Emily is close to tears.
"Emily," JJ says, a little more firmly. "Wake up."
Is it Corrine? Is Emily begging her not to go? During the day, when they are on site, it is impossible to tell if anything is bothering her. She is professional, engaged, focused. She even manages to make it look natural that she never leaves JJ and Corrine alone.
Inspector Davis, on the other hand, takes every opportunity to needle her ex. JJ thinks she sees Morgan's disapproving look a couple of times, but because Emily refuses to acknowledge the barbs, the rest of the team does too.
But on the second night, JJ sneaks into Emily's room, unable to ignore her subtle signs of stress and insomnia. The signs it seems that she alone can spot.
Emily whimpers in her sleep, and JJ puts her hand against her cheek. "Hey," she whispers. "Nothing can hurt you, Em. You're safe. It's okay."
Emily turns into the contact. She quiets, and her hand reaches out, searching for JJ's.
"Jen," she murmurs, half asleep. their hands link. "Shouldn't be here."
JJ smiles. "Shh," she says, snuggling back down. "Sleep."
It is only minutes before Emily's breathing is once again even and deep.
…
…
JJ jerks awake to crying.
Disoriented, it takes her brief moment to realize that she is sitting in the armchair by Emily's bed. She'd put the brunette to bed only 45 minutes ago, dressed in just her tank top and sports shorts. they still have over an hour before she needs to wake up as her concussion precaution.
So instead, JJ slips out of her chair and into the bed next to Emily, thinking to calm her dreams in the same way she has for the last few nights.
But Emily isn't sleeping. And her crying is not the result of a nightmare. When JJ's arms come around Emily's waist, the other woman turns into her, still crying.
"Jen," she breathes. "I can't...I can't bear it."
JJ does not register her own response until she has acted, her lips coming in contact with the smooth skin of Emily's neck. And then, it feels too right and too good to stop.
Emily's throat, and then her clavicle.
Back up to just underneath her ear.
The body next to JJ is melting. The stone and steel that guard Emily so well, that she has built for herself, are crumbling. JJ kisses the underside of Emily's jawbone; Deliberate, open-mouthed kisses that are not unsure or confused.
Emily makes a new sound, and hands come to thread through JJ's hair, gentle and awed. Emily breathes JJ's name, and the sound shoots shivers through her body like lightning.
"I'm here," JJ says. She doesn't know her mouth is against Emily's until the other woman speaks again.
"Stay," Emily whines. Her hands are in JJ's hair, on her waist, pulling and pushing at the same time. "I'm sorry," Emily groans. "I'm sorry."
Vaguely, like a gossamer filter over a movie, JJ registers Emily's rib cage under her fingers. She is momentarily frustrated as the ribbed cotton of a tank top gets in the way of her kissing, momentarily stunned by the expanse of bruised and beautiful body suddenly underneath her own, and the crazed and feral way her brain demands more.
More.
More.
