Chapter Twenty-One: Experiment
She felt somewhat lost for the remainder of that Friday night; something that was only compounded by the fact that Clyde was likely to ask about her abrupt disappearance as soon as she saw him on Monday morning. That though, could wait until Monday morning, because right now she had an apparently far more pressing issue to contend with, and one that she wasn't certain how to rectify – or why she even wanted to.
It still made no sense – not really. But perhaps that was because she didn't want it to. She didn't want to be the type of person who would use someone – something that Morgan had accused her of doing with JJ, and that memory combined with this new mentality served to keep her awake until the very early hours of Saturday morning; and ensured that late that Saturday afternoon when she sat down at her laptop in her study to plow through some of the ever-growing pile of cases that required her attention, she was running on fumes. Her ever-logical – sometimes too logical – brain had finally crossed the line of exhaustion and left her with this mutated version that put even her teenage thought processes to shame.
To say that she wasn't herself was an understatement. Looking back on the week that had past, she realised that so much had happened and yet too that she couldn't really remember any of it. She had lived it, and yet there were pieces of her memory that seemed to be nothing more than questionable dream-like hazes. It almost felt like none of it had happened; that it really had been just a dream. There were conversations that had been had, she was certain; cases that had been closed, copious cups of coffee that had been made and drank, journeys that had been driven and yet she couldn't place any real part of it.
Perhaps she hadn't lived it at all - going through the motions and experiencing were two very different things, and it was beyond fair to say that Emily Prentiss had done nothing but go through the motions for a very long time. That wasn't a secret to her - she knew she had, for as long as she could remember - but this was different. She'd still managed to keep at least some modicum of structure whilst going through those expected motions in the past – genuine pieces of herself; genuine, however fleeting, appreciation for the moment had seeped through those robotic days. But if the current state of her typically precise and immaculate house was anything to go by, the odd disarray of her desk or the way that her hair didn't quite fall as perfectly as it typically did around her constantly graceful form; this definitely was different.
No, she wasn't herself. She wasn't, but she was still clinging to the hope that she was somewhere in there; somewhere behind the drag in her step, hidden beneath the nonchalance towards the little things that she typically enjoyed, buried under the vast array of emotions coursing through her typical silence that she just allowed to do as they pleased. She missed that silence.. the peace that she had both loved and hated for how much it allowed her ever-rushing mind to speed with inconsistent thoughts; it had at least never been like this, and she wanted that thunderous tranquility back. She wanted the dysfunctional and ignorant serenity that seemed a complete non-hope right now but she no longer had the energy to get to that haven.
She wanted, maybe even needed, someone to lower the volume for her or, if they were incapable, take a seat and just share that noise with her.
Lonely: a word that Emily Prentiss despised more than any other. There was absolutely nothing about it that didn't wreck her from the inside out, no matter what form it took. Whether it was the isolation of someone she didn't know, or someone close to her – as close to her as anyone had typically gotten – or even an unsub that showed in his eyes that all he had really ever wanted was for someone else to just understand the disease within him; she felt it like it was her own longing, her own pain, her own.. loneliness.
Is that what this was? She wouldn't admit it, but yes, it was. Just like there was a difference between truly living and simply breathing, there was also a difference between being alone, and being lonely; and where Emily Prentiss had once loved her own company, she now couldn't stomach it or the constantly disjointed and persistently contradictory thoughts that fed on such solitude. Whether it was the six people that she had left back in DC who wanted to know her but honestly didn't really know her at all, or the one woman here who knew her as well as she thought she did but obviously didn't hold any real care to – she would have taken either over how she felt right in that moment, throughout those long days that seemed fruitless, wasted, insignificant and yet totally momentous.
But of course she couldn't have either – would never admit that she needed either. So she sat on her back porch instead, smoked almost an entire pack of cigarettes and tried desperately to force beauty back into Mother Nature where it had once come so easy to her. And when that didn't work, she slept; or tried to, but the exhaustion and the relentless rush of her mind were currently waging a war against each other that she had no choice but to helplessly watch unfold. So she moved on to her old faithful – throwing herself and everything that she had into her work.. but the off switch that that once was was broken.
This prison of her own creation was suffocating her...
…and didn't once let up that whole weekend, easily evaded her typical efforts to ease such exhausting, illogical, empty conflict, and was more than responsible for the robot of herself that showed up for work on Monday morning too.
It was a damn miracle that she was as coherent as she was – and even that wasn't something to boast about. When had she let this happen? When had she let this happen again.. She imagined it somewhat similar to a parasite – a parasite that had wormed its way inside her without her knowledge, and now that she had stopped and recognised its presence, the damage had already been done. And honestly, perhaps she was the parasite in her own mind; blind and ignorant, fighting the wrong fight and turning her back on what she truly needed through a false certainty that it was her enemy. Yet the only enemy in those moments, was herself.
She truly had come here to put herself back together again, not fall apart entirely, but as utterly nonchalant green eyes met her across bullpen V2 – the final straw to this spiraling bout of irrationality – the white-knuckled, clenched fists by her side and the fingernails that scratched hard at the inside of her palm as she escaped to her office told her that that is exactly what had happened.
She rested her whole weight – mentally and physically - on her hands as she splayed them against her desk and bowed her head; her shoulders hunched up around her neck as she attempted to steady her breaths like someone recovering from a panic attack, and tried to compose herself from something that really should not have unraveled her as much as it had. And it shouldn't have – why should she care that someone she didn't know was neutral to her existence? But she knew that it wasn't really about that, that this moment was about so much more than that and when a gentle knock at her door broke the silence she barely heard it, barely heard the door open either – certainly not enough to acknowledge it. In fact, it was only when a tan hand rested against one of her own that she even moved.
"This really was meant to be a new life, wasn't it?" Kate questioned with some kind of kindred understanding in her eyes when Emily turned. "Except it wasn't supposed to accompany that other life, or to iron out the creases.. it was supposed to replace it. But it doesn't work like that, Emily. You know that."
"Don't." Emily shook her head with a whispered warning, purposely removing herself from the close proximity of the younger brunette to the safer spot behind the barricade of her desk. And it truly did feel like she needed a barricade; not to prevent herself from physical harm, but from the other kind of harm that was far more debilitating when it was inflicted.
It was like this person was her mirror image – reflected in a mirror that she had long since dared to look into, and that was the issue here.. Getting too close to Kate, meant getting too close to herself and that had never been something that she had been able to do with any semblance of comfort. And yet she couldn't seem to distance herself far enough from the fact that she still wanted to. She wanted to explore, to share, to fuse herself with this other person and create bonds that would stand strong against tests that very few friendships had managed to weather in the past. She wanted this woman to be a part of her life, for reasons that she truly didn't understand - and all that knowledge and want served to do was twist the fear in her gut further because it told her that it was already too late. She already cared.
Caring was never something that Emily Prentiss stepped into easily, and even more rarely than that was it something that she latched onto long enough for the emotions to set. Maybe that is why she had left JJ; maybe that is why all of her friends, her family had never made it closer than arm's length; maybe that is why her relationship with her mother was rocky at best and why she constantly jumped from one place to the next. Though, the latter was a necessary evil; would always be her MO whether she liked it or not. It was so engrained into her that it was like breathing or sleeping; far more engrained than it was to care for someone, which is why it would always win - which is why it had won when it mattered in the past, and why it was winning now.
Kate cocked her head to the side and sighed; took up a seat opposite Emily's desk and spoke, presumptuously, confidently. "You've spent this whole past week searching for validation, Emily." When the clearly distracted brunette looked up from the fingers resting against her temple, she continued. "You felt something in just the short time that we spent together on that plane and you're searching for validation that I did too. But the issue is that you're so convinced that I didn't that you don't even see that you already have that validation."
"What?" Emily shook her head in semi-panic – really, the only thing that could make this spiraling and unreasonably complex situation worse was for this woman to draw the conclusions that she was certain that she had. "I really, truly have no idea what you're talking about. Like.." Her typical eloquence abandoned her as she searched and searched and yet could not find any logical way to erase what she anticipated the younger woman's assumptions to be. "Really. Perhaps you're right in some regard, but I'm not.. I mean.. I.." Placing her palms against the table, she leant forward to whisper. "Kate, I'm in love with someone else and that brings with it enough baggage as it is. I really think you've gotten the wrong idea."
Kate laughed. She tried not to, but she did. "Oh, Emily. Calm down. That isn't what I meant." She rested her elbows on either arm of the chair and laced her fingers mid-air. "But it sure got you to admit that that is what you've been doing though, didn't it?"
"That's funny to you?" Emily snapped, not even bothering to deny such a thing because perhaps Kate was right. Perhaps she really had been searching for that validation, if only so that she could entertain the possibility, even for just a second, that maybe it could be different this time. Of course, now that she had it, fleeing was still the only thing on her mind and the instantly combative tone to her voice clearly showed her frustration. "Why do you even care to-"
"Would it help if I told you a little more about myself?"
Honestly, I think that would make it worse.. Emily sighed inwardly but gave no verbal response. It would make it worse; the more pieces that she held of this other woman, the more chance of her trusting her and that was just bad all over. Bad, bad, bad. Much more so than it was already; something that was only worsened by the fact that this truly was ridiculous. Why did everything that should be entirely simple have to be so damn complicated with her?
"I duno..." Kate began as she studied Emily's demeanour; the frantically turning cogs in the older woman's mind making their presence known in darkening, conflicted brown eyes. "Perhaps that would just make it worse..."
Oh, Jesus Christ... Emily rolled her eyes and looked to the ceiling; not only was this woman her mirror image, she was reading her thoughts now too. Was nowhere safe anymore?
"Who gave you that?" Kate pointed abruptly to the colourful band of cotton wrapped around Emily's wrist; how thoroughly out of place it was on this elegant woman what had drawn her attention to it in the first place, and how utterly random the question itself was what made her believe that it just may work in penetrating what she now realised was a lifetime of heavily-reinforced armour.
"Uh.." Emily's brow furrowed; that was not at all the turn that she had expected this conversation to take and she gave her answer through blind confusion before she had even considered the motives behind the question – something that she would later find herself grateful for. "The son of a.. um, a friend of mine." She shook her head at that last part, hoping that Kate wouldn't pick up on the nuance. But of course she had, she could see it in her knowing smile and was wholly surprised when the younger woman's next words didn't draw attention to it.
"It's surprising. It doesn't seem very.." Kate's eyes narrowed as she searched for the right word. "You, I guess."
"Yeah, well.." Emily looked down uncomfortably, reaching for a file on her desk in the hope that the other woman would get the hint. "Sometimes you need to keep something that isn't you in order to remain grounded."
"Does it work?"
"Sometimes. Listen, Kate, I get that it's your job, but you really don't need to psychoanalyse me. I'm fine." She replied quickly but solidly, unconsciously straightening her back for emphasis as her facial features hardened impossibly. "Now, if you don't mind, I have work to do."
"Is that what you think I'm doing?"
"No, you're just learning from me, remember." Emily raised an eyebrow, immediately regretting saying such a thing but she made no attempts to take it back.
"I didn't.." The younger woman frowned sadly as though she really hadn't considered the possibility that those words could ever have been misconstrued. "I.. I didn't mean that how you've clearly taken it."
And for only the third time since she had met her, Emily saw something other than robotic intelligence in Kate's features; apparently the charm to break her own cold exterior because when she spoke again, it was no longer a forced closing statement, but one that, unbeknownst to her even, would be the starting point in a brave new direction. "I know you didn't. I know that." She nodded, her gentle eyes depicting empathy and apology. "I also know that you really kind of did, and that's fine. That's fine because I think I could probably learn a lot from you too and I think that's what.. that's what concerns me."
"We can learn from each other."
"No, I.." Emily shook her head. "I think you're misunderstanding me. Just because we could learn a lot from each other, it doesn't mean we should. Some doors are just better left closed."
"Are they?"
"I.." Emily laughed uncomfortably. "Yes, Kate. They are."
"But what about the reason you're even here? Do you really want to continue to hit that wall that you hit with Jennifer?"
"So.. what?" Emily grew suddenly defensive at the mention of JJ's name. "I get to be your experiment? Wonderful! I'm sure that would help a ton, thanks."
"No." Kate shook her head softly; her calm demeanour in complete contrast to Emily's. "I get to be yours."
Suddenly Emily remembered the realisation that she had come to during that cab ride all those nights ago and her temporarily belligerent nature dropped down a notch or two and gave way to genuine curiousity. "And why would you do that for me?"
"Because, Emily.." The younger woman sighed. "I know that fight for control is exhausting. Which is only compounded by the fact that it is a fight you could never win. Nothing is within your control, absolutely nothing. Not even your own feelings, and they're your own worst enemy at times. Being blind to that ensures that you've already lost and I think you are blind to it. Maybe not on the surface, but deep down I think you're still telling yourself that you have the upper hand and you don't. That is what's unravelling you right now. Not your past and the battles you fight daily, but your innate and futile need to pretend that it and they do not exist. You need to trust someone, and you need to do that because that is what terrifies you the most. And the reason that terrifies you is because it means relinquishing some of that control that you hold in your chest every second of every day. But that control, that knot, it's only going to wind tighter until you let some of it go. And that's where I come in."
Every word made sense; every damn word. But that shouldn't be something that surprised her when it came to this woman – it shouldn't, but it still did. Surprised her, and panicked her. Except, it wasn't how thoroughly exposed she felt that caused panic to rush through her veins, it was the fact that she knew that Kate was right; so right that she couldn't even begin to argue. But she'd certainly try. "Thank you for your concern, Katherine. But I don't need a shrink."
"I'm not offering to be your shrink, Emily." Kate groaned in frustration; her fingers pressing into her temples with a shake of her head before she abruptly flung them out with her next blunt statement. "Besides, honestly, if you keep going the way you are, that knot will unravel you entirely and Clyde will insist on that anyway. I'm offering to be your friend."
It was odd, but somehow the word 'friend' unnerved her far more than the prospect of being offered the younger woman's shrink services did. Friends came with whole different responsibilities than therapists; friends didn't fit into a preexisting mold of rules and regulations, what could and should be said, and what would go no further through strongly-bound laws. Friends weren't seen once a week for an hour and could be simply bumped along in her schedule if she was having one of those days or weeks where she wanted to shut out the world and everything in it. No, 'friends' was open to far too many possibilities - possibilities that ironically looped in a lot of ways right back to Kate's point: trust, the relinquishing of something that had been such an engrained part of her for as long as she could remember, and the whole terrifying prospect of offering herself to someone in ways that - after the undeniable unraveling of herself in recent months - she couldn't help but admit was necessary or at least worthy of a try.
So she had to agree, because it couldn't continue this way. It couldn't. It wasn't even about JJ, or her family, or the empty reasoning that she had had to abandon them. Her career was her life, it was the reason that she breathed, the reason that she got out of bed in the morning, the reason that so many hours of her day were occupied willingly; it was everything to her, and yet, since she had returned from Paris almost five months ago, it was like it meant nothing. There were clearly pieces of her in need of major repair or total replacement, pieces that were ensuring that the logic that she prided herself on was failing her at every turn and turning on her at every fail; in the fight for control – the fight for control that she had wholly thought necessary in order to keep herself – she had actually wound up losing herself. And this woman.. this woman was everything that would banish any remaining threads of that control entirely, but perhaps that truly was what she needed; to tear herself apart and start from scratch.
To be brave enough to be human; to feel, to risk, to dare to venture into a world were control wasn't a part of her impenetrable armour. A world were nothing was predictable and everything was open to terrifying possibility. And she was grateful when the younger woman made that leap all the more easy by taking away the word 'friend' and replacing it with one that she herself had used.
"Let me be your experiment, Emily. What's the worst that could happen?"
"Uh, you could misconstrue the word 'experiment' which would leave us in a pretty awkward position." It wasn't a direct yes, but she felt confidant that Kate would take her joke as an agreement to her suggestion and that is what she needed. It seemed somewhat illogical, but it was almost like she needed to go into this without making it official, whilst pretending that that wasn't what she was doing; she needed to trick her own mind into thinking that it was an average day – not one that was the starting point in changing the very foundation on which it ticked.
"Oh trust me, my days of mixing business with pleasure are long over." The younger brunette smiled and indirectly told Emily that she had gotten her implied decision. "And whilst I'm certain that it would be very pleasurable, I'm not sure that's a position you need to find yourself in again either."
Emily simply smiled, gratefully. "From here?"
"Well, from here, you owe me a damn drink because I wasn't joking.. You truly are infuriating."
"I'll give you that." Emily laughed, knowing very well that there was no room for protest – how could she when she even found herself infuriating at times? "Friday, my place?"
"Hah, no." Kate shook her head, earning a genuinely confused stare from Emily. "All control, Emily. Not just some of it. You don't need definitive times and dates, you just need my number and the knowledge that you can use it. So, it may well be Friday before we talk next.. but if you get the urge before then to discuss the weather or.. some addictive TV show, call me."
"What if it's like.. 3am?" Emily yelled to Kate's retreating form, still a little taken-aback by what relinquishing control truly meant.
Kate turned back with a playful grin before disappearing out of Emily's office. "Ohhh, that's when the best topics come out to play."