Rise
PROMPT: Castle - Rise
*SPOILERS: (slight) Epilogue
Chapter 21
PROMPT: Caprica – The Things We Lock Away
It's been a long evening.
Enjoyable, without a doubt, but long. That's what happens when Penelope throws a party. It's always draining. Thankfully, they've all finally left, her team, her family and they've also, thankfully, taken most of the mess with them. Penelope hung around to help clean, but now she's gone too and the leftover mess isn't helping Emily keep her mind off of how suddenly lonely her apartment feels.
It's a surprise.
Emily's the type that likes her time to herself. She needs it to recharge, but after the night of laughter, of teasing, bantering, joking and just family. She's now seen just how big Henry's grown, and of course, Jack.
She sighs in a mixture of sadness and contentment. She's got some sweet new stuff from housewarming gifts including a neat kettle and cup – more like a bowl really – from Penelope, and an IOU from Derek for any maintenance she may need around the apartment. But now the place seems so quiet and she can hear every movement of Sergio, and every creaking floorboard.
Which includes the knock at the door. She's not expecting anyone so she shoots Sergio a confused look where he's lounging on her single couch. He, of course, doesn't reply. She feels the panic climbing her throat and decides to placate herself by pulling her gun out of the safe by the door. She also checks her peephole.
She would have never expected the person on the other side of the door.
"Reid?"
He looks shaken and she's surprised. He'd left almost three hours ago, and looking at him, something must have woken him. He lives far enough away that his presence at her door is a shock. She's not sure how she feels about it. She's worried, that much is easy to pinpoint, but she's also not sure what to expect. They've been okay, but she's not totally sure Reid's forgiven her, or accepted her. She's more than a little afraid he's going to pick a fight.
He can, with her. They have a relationship where he trusts that she's not just going to shrug his concerns aside. She's the one person he's not afraid of confronting outside of a reactionary circumstances and she's not afraid to tell him when he's being childish and stupid. This though, she's a little worried. He's standing on the other side of the door, his eyes searching her face.
"Spencer."
That does it. It's short, it's probably a little rude, but it makes him jump. And jump into action. She's surprised when he wraps himself around her body. She releases an 'oh' when he squeezes her ribs, but doesn't shove him off. Instead she wraps an arm around his shoulders and uses the other to reach out and close the door. His body shakes against her and it means that when she feels the tears against her shoulder she just sighs and tightens her arms.
She's been wondering when something like this would be coming.
They've been working through so much. So very, very much. Stress gets to everyone and in different ways. Reid is the internal sort. It explodes, eventually. It's why he'll lash out at Derek or Hotch. JJ. Her.
When he eventually calms down enough to move, she guides him to the couch, sits him down on the corner. She heats water and pours it into the kitty kettle, placing the bowl on the table in front of him. She brings over honey, because that's how Reid takes his tea and brings over the kettle when it's boiled. He still hasn't said anything and probably won't until he's ready so she makes his tea and then sits beside him.
Thankfully, it doesn't take long.
"You felt… cold?"
It doesn't take Emily long to catch up. "Do you know how long I was in that warehouse?" She means it to lighten the conversation, to give them some space from the grief, but he doesn't seem like that's what he wants.
"I… I knew I'd done everything," he says softly. "I guess… I guess I was ready to die."
"No one's ready," she points out gently. "Reid, what we saw when we died isn't reflective of our lives."
His breath hitches and it doesn't take Reid's IQ to figure out why. She's wondered, since his breathless question, if the fact that she has really died makes the whole situation easier to stomach. She did die. Not for long, but she did. Sometimes that's enough to start reconciling the rest of it.
"I… had a nightmare."
That she's not expecting. She reaches out and grasps his hand. He grips hers tighter.
"None of it was real."
She jolts. No. He couldn't be-
"You were really dead."
It makes her shiver. She tries not to think about it, especially because it's not true. She lived, she's here, but she hasn't really had to deal with the fact that she's gone. Not like they had. There was always a part of her that knew she'd be coming back. But the team… there would have been absolutely no awareness. And JJ and Hotch made clear that they made the decision and kept it all to themselves.
She squeezes his hand. "I'm not dead."
But that's why he's here. To see for himself. So she glances at the clock.
"It's late," she says quietly. "I'll grab you a pillow and a blanket."
He tries to protest as she moves around the living room, trying to argue that she's going to hear every shift he makes, but she won't listen. She's going to have to get used to it eventually. There's always going to be people in her life and she's not going to be able to live if every sound wakes her. She'll be tired the entire time. So she offers him a smile.
"Don't be ridiculous."
He doesn't really argue after that. Just starts puttering, moving the forgotten tea to the counter while she manages to dig up a blanket and an extra pillow. For the first time in a while she's glad she's a naturally cold person. Extra blankets are a survival tool rather than just nice.
She settles him down and heads to bed, leaving the door open just a bit when she's ready to curl up under the blankets. It's awkward and weird, but Emily's not sure what else to do to help reassure Reid that she's not going anywhere. And it's Reid. There's nothing to be afraid of.
Still, she lies awake late, long after Reid's gone to sleep, trying to acclimate herself to the sounds, the shuffling, the bloody talking.
But most importantly, trying to convince herself once again that this is only temporary.
I think we've crossed a threshold here. I think that's what I'm doing. Going past the anger and hitting legitimate PTSD from them. Or close to it anyway. So much of this is almost like a teaser because it's only touching on things rather than actually delving into them. I'll get there. Be patient with me.
And be patient with me because I'm exhausted? Typos and mistakes are mine. This isn't as thorough as I would necessarily like, but it should have read okay.
It's also come to my attention that I forgot to post my Twitter account name. See what happens when your brain runs away? kavileighanna