January 2011


new year's day

don't start the new year with me, if you can't end it with me


Waking up with JJ in her bed, it was almost like nothing had changed. But things had changed, irrevocably, irreparably. They had barely spoken the night before, choosing instead to focus on the physical, because that was so much easier. Emily was selfishly trying to erase the memory of Hotch's touch, throwing herself on JJ's mercy and JJ had missed her too much to deny her anything. JJ's touch was perhaps a little rougher than it had been in the past, and Emily knew there was an anger there, a betrayal, that she would have to deal with come the morning, but she basked in it through the night and woke up sore and more bruised than she ever had done before. It was as though JJ had been trying to mark her, to claim her back. Emily knew she would be looking at those bruises for weeks.

It had all fallen apart so quickly, that when she woke up, Emily found herself more than a little disoriented. The warm body behind her was softer than the last one she had fallen asleep with, familiar. JJ's scent, the scent Emily had washed out of her sheets, and her life, months ago, for the sake of her own sanity, was back and, comforting as it was, it was also a little jarring. It was terrifying, to wake up and feel as though she were back in the same place she had been three months ago, as though time had ceased to continue moving forwards between then and now. There was a fear mingled in with the comfort, that she could find herself back here, after all that it had taken to heal, to let go. That she could fall so easily back into the routine of them made her more scared than Emily thought she had ever been, because it meant that she wasn't as healed as she had thought.

You slept with Hotch, did you really think you were all that healed to begin with?

As though she'd heard the thought pass through Emily's brain, JJ chose that moment to stir. Not quite awake, her hand, resting on Emily's hip, squeezed the flesh it found there tight, pulling her closer. Emily felt the press of JJ behind her, her breasts pressed against her back, felt the warmth of her core as JJ laid a leg across her, as she had always been used to doing. Ordinarily, in another life, Emily might have chosen that moment to shuffle back against her, to playfully wiggle her ass, or to shift so that the hand on her hip fell just a little, letting the stirring JJ know exactly what she wanted...but she couldn't bring herself to do any of those things. She lay there in her ex-girlfriends warmth, knowing this would soon come to an end. Knowing that as soon as JJ awoke fully, as soon as she processed, just as Emily had, what was happening, the warmth would be gone, their moment would be over.

Last night was a sort of funeral, Emily understood that now. A goodbye to their relationship, to their time together.

Behind her, she felt the moment JJ realised where she was. The blonde's abs tightened against her back at the same moment as the hand on her hip released, her palm flat against the bone, fingers flexed away. Her breathing, previously deep and steady, halted and resumed, short and unsteady and hesitant. Emily closed her eyes, waiting. The hand was retracted from her hip and Emily felt the chill on her back as JJ moved her body away. The bed dipped and Emily listened to JJ sigh deeply, expelling the air from her lungs forcefully in a huff. Emily watched in the window, watching JJ's reflection. She watched the curve of JJ's spine as the blonde threw her legs out of bed, and dropped her elbows to her knees, resting her head in her hands. She rubbed at her eyes, then turned to glance over Emily's still form. When her eyes found Emily's in the reflection, they were sad.

"Hey," Her voice was soft, full of sleep and hurt. In her chest, Emily's heart clenched painfully.

"Hi," She couldn't bring herself to turn around, to break the eye contact JJ held with her in the window. She felt as though if she broke it, JJ might never look at her again with anything other than pain and accusation. Then JJ looked away, and the moment was gone, the spell broken.

Emily dropped her eyes as JJ tugged her underwear up over her hips, and tugged her t-shirt down over her bare back. She pushed herself to sit up, holding the sheet against her bare chest, and cast her eyes around the room, looking for something to cover herself with when she climbed out of bed. JJ saw this, rolled her eyes and went to her closet. She tugged Emily's satin robe from the hanger and threw it across the room to her, perhaps a little roughly.

"Thanks," Emily's voice was quiet now, and she turned back to the window when she put on her robe. Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes, preparing for the inevitable argument. "JJ-" When she turned back to the room, however, JJ was gone.

Emily found her in the kitchen, as she had so many times before. Each movement she made, getting mugs down, heaping spoonfuls of coffee into them, boiling the kettle. They were all learned, practised movements she knew off by heart. Again, it was as though she had never been gone. There was a lump in Emily's throat as she watched JJ potter around her kitchen as though this were a normal day, as though she had never been gone.

JJ could feel Emily's eyes on her, and she stubbornly refused to look up and meet her eyes. She went about her motions in the kitchen robotically, her eyes never once meeting Emily's where she stood across the room, leaning against the doorway. Once the coffees were made, she pushed one to the edge of the counter, turning around to lean her back against it. She felt, more than heard, Emily's approach. Her voice, when she thanked her for the coffee, was quiet and soft, softer than JJ thought she had ever heard it, and she hated it.

Eventually, Emily found the courage to speak up. Maybe it was the coffee, or maybe it was just the length of time that passed in weighted, oppressive silence.

"How long are you staying?" She asked, nursing her coffee in cold hands. JJ, still with her back to her, shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm flying back at the end of the week. I can find somewhere else to stay."

"Don't," It came out of Emily like a plea, and she hated herself for it. Closing her eyes against the pride that wanted to suck the word back in between her teeth, Emily levelled her voice out once more. "I mean...I'd like it if you could stay, if we could have this week together. I'd like that." She paused, knowing she didn't have any right to ask that of JJ, and sighed heavily, "But, of course, I understand...if you can't."

JJ felt a war raging inside of her. She wanted to be angry, to curse and scream and accuse Emily of infidelity, because that was what her heart felt had happened...but, truly, she had no right to do so. They were broken up. It didn't matter that they'd spent over a year of their lives together, nor that JJ still felt a yearning, aching love for Emily. Finally, she turned and met those brown eyes she knew so well. Right now, they were full of guilt. JJ wanted to feel vindicated by that, but instead she just felt sad and tired and still very much in love.

There was a long moment of quiet and Emily felt as though JJ's eyes might bore straight through her skull, but she couldn't bring herself to look away. She knew how she must look, pleading and desperate and pathetic, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Right now, all that she wanted was standing in her kitchen, and she knew that it was a make or break moment for them, that this might be their last chance to spend any time together. She also knew that it was for JJ to make this decision, so she waited with bated breath.

"Do you think we could get dinner reservations tonight?" JJ finally said, after a long while. Emily felt as though the breath she let out had been waiting in her chest forever.

"It'll be difficult, but no impossible," Emily chanced a conspiratorial smile, and the tweak of JJ's lips, curling up slightly at the corners, was enough to make her grin. "I'll figure it out."

There were occasions in life with being Elizabeth Prentiss' daughter came in handy; booking last minute tables at high end restaurants on New Years Day was one of them, it turned out. Much as Emily hated to use her mother's name, she was more than willing to do it if it meant she could go to dinner with her ex-girlfriend. If dinner was what JJ wanted, dinner was what Emily would provide, and she did.

That evening found them sitting at a comfortable table in one of their favourite restaurants, one they had frequented as a couple for only the most special occasions. Sitting at their table near the window, beneath a canopy of twinkling lights and near to a lavishly decorated Christmas tree, it felt a little like playing house; like they were two children at the grown up table, playing pretend. JJ, who had put most of her impractical clothes into storage before she left for the Middle East, wore a cocktail dress of Emily's, midnight blue. Emily wore a black jumpsuit. It was easy to slip back into routine, to behave as though the last few months, and the grenade that was sitting, unexploded, in the middle of their little charade, had never happened. Neither of them looked inwards at the betrayal they felt, nor did they take it out to examine or to point blame. They sat, enjoyed their meal and talked. It was a natural, flowing conversation. The kind they had always had, even before there was romance between them, back when they were both in denial for the sake of professionalism. That seemed to long ago now, but the irony was not lost on either of them that it was what they must return to. They talked long into the evening, JJ regaling Emily with stories from Afghanistan, her face serious but alight with the good work she knew she was doing, the joy she took from being able to help and make a difference, Emily filling JJ in on what the rest of their friends had been up to and realising at the same time that she had been almost too wrapped up in her own grievances to even notice, until the restaurant was empty save for the two of them and then they went home and, like the previous night, and so many nights before, they went to bed.

JJ let Emily peel her out of the midnight blue velvet dress she had borrowed, muttering her thanks as the brunette pressed long kisses to the back of her neck, the words catching in JJ's throat as her breath stuttered.

They were, Emily knew, as JJ turned in her arms, seeking her lips, and her hands wandered over tanned, exposed skin, living on borrowed time. It was a sort of limbo, a suspended moment. She felt as though her clocks had stopped, that she might live in it forever if she were given the choice, because it wasn't going to last. Eventually, it would catch up to them; all of it. She knew it, even as JJ lay back across her bed and Emily pressed kisses down the length of the body she felt she knew almost better than her own. She knew, and, for the life of her, as JJ's lustful noises of encouragement echoed in her ears, she couldn't find it in her to care.


the third

i know you hide behind your words

it's okay, i do that too


It was, Emily knew, only a matter of time before she saw Hotch again. She had been avoiding him, there was no denying it. Not that he had made much of an effort to get in touch with her, either. Other than the fleeting text message and promise to call, which he hadn't done, they'd had no contact, and Emily had been glad of that. At least, until Rossi got wind of JJ being back and invited them all over for dinner. Suddenly, the bomb in the middle of their moment felt as though it might explode imminently.

It didn't help that JJ hadn't asked the question Emily had been dreading. Who? Emily was resigned though; she wasn't going to tell her. She didn't see what good could come from being honest about it. It would only cause JJ more pain that she didn't need, and Emily didn't think she could stand to see the betrayal on JJ's face. It was, after all, done now. Never to happen again. What was the point in hurting JJ more with the truth of it? She knew Emily had betrayed her; she needn't know that Hotch had, too.

Nevertheless, when they stepped into Rossi's kitchen and she saw Hotch lean down to embrace JJ, a grin on his face as he told her how much they'd all missed her, she couldn't help the uncomfortable twist she felt in her stomach. His eyes found hers as his chin rested on JJ's shoulder and Emily, recognising the question there, gave the tiniest, most imperceptible shake of her head that she could. Understanding clouded his eyes, and her heart slowed. He would keep their secret, she knew. If it was what she wanted, what she needed, Hotch wouldn't tell anybody. He probably didn't want it to get out any more than she did, but for different reasons. She was fairly certain he would face disciplinary action for engaging in sexual relations with his subordinate. How had they fucked up so monumentally?

She dropped Hotch's eyes before anyone noticed, and told herself that Rossi's curious eyes on her were a figment of her imagination. Taking JJ's coat from her, she disappeared a moment, to put it and her own away, grateful for a second to breathe away from the situation she had created. She knew it would get easier, the guilt and the secret. By the end of the week, when JJ went back to the Middle East, it wouldn't matter anyway. They could go back to normal, and she and Hotch would go on behaving as though it had never happened. The resolve steadied her and when she returned to the kitchen, it was with a smile on her face. Penelope handed her a drink and she gave out her greetings, wishing them all a Happy New Year, and was mostly grateful to slink into the background as JJ regaled them with her stories, the ones Emily had already heard in the early hours of the morning while they lay together in bed.

There was a numbness as she watched JJ regale the team with her stories; it didn't hurt as much anymore. In the beginning, during their phone calls, when she'd had to listen to how much JJ clearly wasn't missing her, it had hurt. It had made her sad and bitter and lonely. Now, she felt numb to it. Standing in Rossi's kitchen, listening to her talk, she felt as though she were listening from a long distance, from far away. JJ was standing no more than two feet away from her, but her voice faded away. Emily watched her, the glint of her hair, even paler than it had been, in the LED lights, the way she gesticulated with her hands, one clutched around her class and the other taking an active role in her storytelling. She was, Emily realised, absolutely in her element. The way her eyes lit up, the smile on her face when she spoke of the people she met, the human connections she was making with people on a daily basis. There was a seriousness there, too, though, Emily noticed as she watched her. JJ seemed older, less carefree. She hadn't spoken about the horrors, but Emily knew there would be plenty. It was impossible to take on a mission like the one JJ had and not come back changed. Perhaps that was why she hadn't interrogated Emily about who she slept with; there were simply more important things she had to focus on.

Eventually, Emily relaxed. It felt normal, being here with her family. That dangerous feeling, the feeling that nothing had changed, came back again. Every time she felt that nostalgic resurgence, she knew it was going to hurt so much more when JJ left again at the end of the week.

"So, how was your New Year?" Hotch's voice pulled her out of her head, and Emily started at his proximity. When she stepped back to look at him, it was also to put a little distance between the two of them. The subtle change in his expression would have been imperceptible to anyone else, but they'd been so acutely in tune with each other for years that Emily didn't miss it.

"It got a lot better when Jayje showed up," She replied, with a small smile. He smiled back at her, and Emily felt a rush of guilt at the understanding that she saw there. She tilted her head towards the hallway, and she and Hotch ducked away from the group unnoticed.

In the hall, Emily picked nervously at her fingernails as Hotch quietly pulled the kitchen door closed behind him. Emily tried for a smile, but all she could manage was a sort of anxious grimace.

"Emily, relax," Hotch said, simply, in a tone she recognised; it was the one he usually reserved for the victims they spoke to, who needed to be gently reassured.

"I just-" Emily hesitated, gesturing helplessly towards the kitchen, "I don't want things to be awkward, Hotch. I'm sorry that what happened, happened. I just...I'm sorry if I took advantage."

"I'm a grown man, Emily," Hotch said, with a small smile that she knew was supposed to be comforting, "You didn't take advantage of me; we both made mistakes that night. I shouldn't have gotten involved with a subordinate and you were still getting over JJ. If anyone took advantage of the situation, it was me."

Emily tried to protest but, ever the gentleman, Hotch help up his hand, the small smile still in place on his face. He shook his head, almost imperceptibly. "Really, Emily." He said, gently, "It's okay. I wanted to apologise."

"You don't have to!" Emily said, hurriedly.

Emily exhaled, loudly. She felt as though a weight had been lifted. Of course, there was still the small matter that JJ didn't know the whole truth, but, for the time being, Emily decided she would put that aside. JJ didn't seem interested in asking for details about who Emily had slept with, and she could only hope it would stay that way. She didn't know what they were doing; were they back together? JJ had expressed no interest so far in staying. As far as Emily knew, at the end of the week she was flying back out to Afghanistan. That, she figured, left them right back where they had been at the end of last year.

She followed Hotch back into the kitchen and saw JJ, Morgan's arm thrown around her shoulder. She watched the blonde lift her beer to her lips, blue eyes finding her as soon as she came back into the room, as they always had. All at once, Emily felt as though there was nothing in the world she knew better than those blue eyes. It was a familiar feeling, and it left her scared because she knew, when JJ had to leave again, that it was going to hurt all over again.


the fifth

we're only human

we ignore truths for the sake of temporary happiness


JJ's departure was upon them both much too suddenly and, though it remained unspoken, there was a heaviness when they woke up the morning before. JJ woke up first, as usual. Instead of rising, as she normally would, and going to make coffee, she stayed where she was, arm thrown across Emily's waist, nose pressed into dark hair. Inhaling deeply, JJ pulled Emily closer, her arm winding tighter around her. The woman sleeping in her arms made a noise of gentle protest, letting JJ know she was holding her just a little too tightly, but the blonde held on for just a moment longer before relaxing her arm once more, fingers trailing over the sliver of skin that Emily's t-shirt had ridden up to expose.

Emily lay still, letting JJ think she was still fast asleep. She kept her breathing steady, but when JJ's fingers trailed across her abdomen, the hitch in her breath gave her away, as did the way her muscles jumped at the soft contact.

"Good morning," JJ said softly into her hair, nose nuzzling against Emily's ear. Emily sighed blissfully in response, shifting backwards, pressing herself into JJ's strong form behind her. The blonde chuckled lightly, the hand playing at Emily's abdomen travelling slowly downwards. Emily turned her head, a smirk on her face as her lips sought JJ's. The kiss was gentle and languorous, until Emily realised this was their last morning together like this. Then, it became urgent, desperate. She pressed herself firmly back against JJ, who took the change in pace in her stride, her hand finding it's purchase finally, making Emily gasp into her mouth.

Morning shifted into afternoon without either of them realising it, and by the time they climbed out of bed, the sun was high in the sky and starting to slowly wane.

"What do you want to do today?" JJ asked, with a yawn, as she set mugs down to pour them both a cup of coffee. Tying her robe around her waist, Emily slid onto one of the breakfast bar stools and lay her cheek on the palm of her hand, eyes following JJ's movements across the kitchen. It occurred to her, though she shoved the idea quickly away, how much she was going to miss this.

"There's not much of the day left," She smirked, playfully, as JJ handed her a steaming mug. The blonde smiled down into her cup as she lifted it to her nose and inhaled deeply.

"You have got to get better coffee, Em." She commented, softly, taking a cautious sip. She rested her elbows on the counter, eyes finding Emily over to lip of her mug. She watched her brush back a dark curl out of her eyes, wet her rose lips with her tongue, pucker her lips and blow the steam of her coffee. A smile creased her eyes when Emily caught JJ looking at her.

"What?" She shifted in her seat, warm beneath JJ's gaze. The blonde shook her head, waves swaying around her smiling face.

"Nothing," JJ said, softly. "You didn't answer my question, what shall we do today?"

In the end, they decided that doing mostly nothing was the way to go. JJ said she wanted to cook a farewell dinner, and, given Emily's lack of cheffing ability, she was more than happy to agree. Showering took longer than expected, which was mostly Emily's fault for suggesting that showering together was the most eco-friendly way, although JJ didn't take much persuasion in that area. Eventually, though, they were dressed and Emily was driving them to the store to pick up what JJ needed for dinner.

Strolling around the aisles, her hands wrapped around the handle of the trolley, Emily thought about how she and JJ had never had such a normal day.

"Do you want to do chicken or fish tonight, Em?" JJ asked, turning over a packet of salmon fillets in her hand to check the nutrition.

"I'll take whatever you're cooking," Emily replied with a smile she hoped didn't look quite as forced as it felt on her face. How JJ could be acting so normal, she didn't know. She was leaving, again. After their perfect week, after she had apparently extended Emily forgiveness, she was still leaving. Emily definitely wasn't angry, but she couldn't help but be a little hurt, all over again. While they shopped, Emily felt absent, as though she was simply going through the motions. She watched JJ float through the aisles, picking up herbs here and spices there, a bag of potatoes, a handful of carrots. Emily barely felt as though she were a part of any of it. Grocery shopping used to be one of their favourite shared past times, just about the most relaxing thing the two of them ever did together.

At home, it felt as though she was moving through water. Slowly, dragging her feet. Time ticked by slowly, as though torturously counting down the time she still had left with JJ before she left, again, making it so that Emily couldn't even enjoy it, she was just waiting for it to end. She spent much longer in the shower than she needed to, as though to delay their evening would delay the inevitable goodbye the morning would bring.

JJ hummed as she cooked, some new, catchy song she didn't know all of the words to that had been playing on the radio on the way back from the store. It was easier, she found, to focus on making mindless vocal noises than it was to fend off the nagging question that had been sitting on her brain for almost a week. So far, she had managed not to ask. Glancing up at the clock, she calculated that she had just over twelve hours left to keep her mouth shut, then she would be on her way to the airport without having destroyed whatever she and Emily were trying to salvage here. And eventually, the question that had been bothering her every waking moment since she'd found our Emily had slept with somebody would go away. She would stop needing to ask it, it would stop eating away at her brain and consuming her every thought. One day, she would stop needing to know who.

"Bon appétit," JJ grinned at Emily as she emerged from the bedroom wearing a simple black slip dress. JJ had changed into a silk, black dress shirt. They had both made an effort for this evening, knowing it was their last for some unknown amount of time.

The table was set beautifully, complete with the lit candelabra in the centre; the one Emily's mother had gifted her one Christmas and which had lived in the cupboard ever since because Emily thought it was pretentious. JJ had turned down all of the other lights though, except the dimmer lights in the kitchen, so the candles illuminated the table with a flickering, romantic glow. That, Emily realised, was what a candelabra was for.

"You've outdone yourself, Agent Jareau," Emily teased, softly, as she sat down at the table. The colourful plate in front of her was homely and comforting, in contrast to the fancy setting JJ had tried to create. The food itself, a plate of spiced fish and vegetables, was very JJ, and Emily knew it would be delicious. As someone who had, in the past, burned a bowl of ramen, Emily would be impressed with anything JJ put in front of her, but she knew that the blonde's skills in the kitchen were bested only by David Rossi.

Dinner was a mostly silent affair, aside from the occasional satisfied noise of approval from one of them, mostly Emily. The food, to give JJ her credit, was delicious. It was almost on par with the Christmas dinner Rossi had bought in for them all, of not better. Emily was thankful for the wine, it lulled her anxieties a little and let her relax. Eventually, she found herself settling into easy conversation. Whereas, all day, they had been wound up, stoic and awkward.

"Jayje, that was amazing." She complimented, finishing the last morsel on her plate and laying her knife and fork down side by side. "You should come back here and be a chef, help people that way." It was a joke, mostly, but when she saw JJ's smile, she saw the sadness there that she had been fending off all day reflected in those blue eyes.

Standing up, Emily made her way around the table and offered JJ her hand. The blonde took it and let Emily lead her to the sofa where they sank down, closely entwined. Emily crossed her leg over JJ's, her arm across her shoulders and twisted a lock of blonde hair around her finger. JJ rested her head on Emily's shoulder, breathing her in. She closed her eyes, letting the familiar scent of Emily calm her, giving herself a moment to enjoy, rather than one where she was counting down to leaving or obsessing over who Emily had slept with.

Blue eyes snapped open and JJ sat forwards, bringing her wine glass to her lips and drinking in deeply. The change was instant and Emily felt it, narrowing her eyes warily at JJ's back. She didn't say anything, letting the blonde have her moment, waiting to see if it would pass, unsure of what had triggered it.

Images JJ had been trying to fend off since Emily had told her; unknown hands, writhing, sweating bodies, Emily's face contorted in pleasure delivered by someone else, flashed across JJ's mind like the slides of a ViewMaster. She closed her eyes against them, but they weren't in front of her, they were in her head. It was almost painful, and JJ brought her palm to her forehead as though she could wipe them away.

"Jen...?" Emily asked, worried, now. "Do you have a headache?"

JJ shook her head. "No," She replied, her voice clipped and short, "I don't have a headache." She sighed, deeply. It seemed as though there was no way to avoid it, much as she had tried to, much as she may have wanted to. Perhaps, truly, she didn't wait to. JJ knew there was no way she could go back to the Middle East having not asked the question. How she had gotten this far, she didn't know. But to leave, get on a plane and fly away for God knew how long, and not know? That would be torturous. Emily would be so relieved, she knew, and that was why JJ had tried so had not to ask. Even now, she was unsure what right she had to ask, but she had to.

"Who was it, Em?" She muttered, finally. The question lingered between them.

Emily's face dropped as soon as the words left JJ's mouth. Had she really thought she was going to get away with not being confronted about it? It wasn't until this moment, however, that Emily realised she had long since made up her mind that JJ didn't need to know. As far as she was concerned, knowing Emily had betrayed her was enough. She didn't need to know Hotch had, too.

"Jayje, I understand why you're asking-"

"Don't do that, Emily, please," The younger agent protested, holding her head in her hands, frustration mounted as she realised Emily wasn't going to provide her with the answer she wanted. "Just tell me."

"No." It was blunt, but, Emily thought, the easiest way.

"No?"

"No, JJ." Dark hair shook around Emily's face, pale with emotion. "I'm sorry. I'm not going to tell you who it was. I don't think it matters." That was a lie; it mattered, and that was the very reason why she had to keep it to herself. "It's not going to happen again, ever. It didn't mean anything to me emotionally. It was a mistake, one I'm not going to make again. If you can't forgive that, I understand. But, I'm sorry, I'm not going to tell you who it was."

"Was it Derek?" JJ shot at her, unable to help herself. Emily couldn't help the indignant scoff that came from her throat, and thought it perhaps a little premature afterwards, given that the step from Derek to Hotch wasn't all that big of a leap.

"Oh, please, JJ." She said, standing up. She made her way back to the dining table, glass in hand, and poured herself another glass.

"I wish you would tell me," JJ stood up, arms folded defensively across her chest. "I'm always going to wonder if you don't, Emily."

There were two evils here, and Emily knew it, and she hated herself for bringing them on JJ's head. Knowing, though, was the greater of the two evils, at least in Emily's mind. "You don't need to know."

"That's not your decision to make!" JJ all but screamed at her and the wine glass slid from Emily's hand, shattering across the glass pane of the table. Covered in wine, she stared in shock at JJ, who was pointing an accusing finger at her. All at once, Emily felt the weight of her anger, the rage JJ had been holding back ever since she'd gotten home and Emily had delivered the blow. It was like a tidal wave of emotion all at once and how she had managed to hold it back, Emily didn't know.

"I'm sorry," Emily offered her a small shrug, brushing a hand over her dress, wet with wine.

"For not telling me, or for cheating on me?" JJ threw at her, and anger flared in Emily's chest.

"You left me."

Both accusations hung in the air between them, living, breathing things injecting venom into the domesticity they'd been trying to rebuild. They stood for a long time in silence, each woman coming to her own realisation of the situation they were in. Emily watched JJ's stance change; all of the defensiveness left her body, her shoulders dropping as though out of exhaustion. It was like Emily could see all of the fight go out of her, and suddenly she felt as though she had been transported back in time, to before JJ had left, to standing in the lounge and letting JJ give up her dream job for her. Only, this time, Emily knew it wasn't the job JJ was giving up.

"Fine," She spoke, finally, softly, resignedly. "Keep your secret, Em. I can't do this anymore. I shouldn't have come back; I'm sorry. I'll sleep in the spare room tonight, and I'll get a hotel next time I'm home, or stay with Pen."

"Yeah," Emily didn't have the willpower to argue, felt her walls slowly going back up, felt the familiar void of emotionless that had been her friend for so many years. It had been a long since since JJ had been on the receiving end of that. "That might be for the best." There was, she knew, no way through this. They had deluded themselves into a week of feigned domesticity, pretending everything could be as it once was. That, Emily now knew, was a lie they had been telling themselves.

It didn't hurt so much this time, knowing it was over. Perhaps it was because on some level, they both knew their gladness was temporary. JJ was always going to leave again; Emily had still slept with somebody else. It was long since over. That must be why this time, a numbness settled quickly over Emily.

JJ disappeared into the spare bedroom as Emily set about cleaning up the kitchen, including the shattered wine glass. She moved through the motions, mechanically. Muffled noises came from the bedroom, of JJ packing. The blonde emerged from the spare room and went silently into Emily's bedroom, coming out moments later with her arms full of all of the things she had left in there; spare items of clothing, the perfume that she'd left on Emily's dresser. They didn't say a word to each other the whole time.

Three months ago, Emily remembered being the happiest she had ever been in her entire life. On the evening of her birthday, she had marvelled at how far she had come, how her life had changed. No longer was she the stoic, wary loner who didn't let anybody in. JJ had broken down her walls, the team had gotten under her skin and into her heart, adn she had been happier for it than she had ever been in her life. Now, as she cleaned up the shattered glass from her dining room table, Emily felt those walls slide right back into place, and recognised herself once more as the woman who knew how to protect herself, how to keep the walls up that protected her from the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her if she didn't revert back to how she had been before. It was as though, as she peeled the wine soaked dress from her skin, she was peeling away the woman she had become. It was like coming home, to a cold and empty house.


the sixth

there's an ache in you, put there by the ache in me


Emily lay awake through the night and knew JJ was doing the same on the other side of the wall. She didn't get up, didn't go to her. She lay there, her ears ringing in the silent darkness. The clock flashed at her from her bedside table, taunting her, counting down the minutes until she would hear JJ leave. She knew, even as the hours counted down, that she wouldn't get up and go to her, as surely as she knew that JJ didn't want her to.

Something between them had broken, and this time, it was irreparable. Though the argument had been short, their clipped words were enough. There was nothing left, nothing to say, nothing that could salvage it at this point. Emily tossed and turned, sighing in frustration, willing sleep to come for her and knowing it wouldn't. Instead, she stared at the clock.

It read 4:45 am when she heard the bed springs in the other room creak and then JJ's feet hit the floor. Emily lay still and silent, listening to the rustle of fabric as JJ dressed, then the drag of the bed sheets, and she knew JJ had made up the guest bed. A quiet cough, the zip of a suitcase, the swish of her hairbrush through blonde locks. The thin walls in her apartment had never been such a problem. Emily knew what she was listening to; it was the soundtrack of JJ walking out of her life. Still, she didn't move to stop it.

When she heard the vibration of JJ's phone, followed by a mumbled and short conversation, she knew JJ's cab to the airport had arrived. Sure enough, the roll of her suitcase across the floor signalled her departure. Emily closed her eyes, her heart in her throat. Her limbs were heavy, her body turned to stone against the soft sheets of her bed. She heard JJ pause in the hall, and the moment lingered. Still, Emily couldn't bring herself to move. Then, the roll of her suitcase again. The front door opened then closed again, there was the jingle of keys in the lock and Emily heard the clatter as JJ dropped them back through her letterbox. And she was gone.

Emily knew she should cry, but no tears came.


january blues

the rain taps it's fingers on my window
it asks if it may sing in my ear until i fall asleep

i wish the rain was you


The weeks that followed were cold and wet and lonely.

Case after case came through, as they always had, and Emily went through the motions, as she always had. To a casual observer, it might appear as though nothing much had changed at all. To the rest of the team, the difference was evident from the first moment Emily walked into the bullpen on their first day back to work after New Year.

She didn't quite storm into the room, but there was a definite atmosphere. She barely lifted her eyes from her desk all morning, muttering some reluctant and muffled 'good mornings' to Morgan and Reid, who exchanged a glance but said nothing. It wasn't difficult to ascertain the reason for her mood; JJ's absence. Whether or not they knew the gory details was neither here nor there; they knew JJ was gone, and they knew it was going to, once again, take it's toll on the brunette.

Still, Emily worked efficiently and effectively. She just didn't work like Emily. There was a detachment there that they hadn't seen since her earliest days at the BAU, a detachment that was worrying and somewhat disturbing. It was as though her walls had gone back up, as though the past five years had been entirely erased. Even on the jet, she was quiet and absent, her mind elsewhere. She sat and stared out of the window, a frown growing between her eyebrows, and invited no one to be near her simply with her body language.

They tried, of course. They tried as they had the first time JJ had left. Morgan with humour, Reid with offers of foreign films and Russian literature. Penelope tried to entice Emily with girls night, and was rewarded with a look of genuine disgust that was the result of Emily's shock. She couldn't have withheld the expression if she had tried, although she felt the guilt twist at her heart when Penelope practically shrank from her gaze. After that episode, Emily's mood was even more dour, seeing the effect she was having on her team, and yet unable to pull herself out of the depths of her own emotion.

Most of it was anger and most of it was unfair. It was unfair to be angry with JJ for pursuing a dream she hadn't known she had when Emily and JJ first began their relationship. It was definitely unfair to be angry with Hotch for them having slept together. It was wrong to be angry with her team for trying to make her feel better. So that left the anger she felt towards herself. Anger for letting down her walls, walls she had built for reasons, good reasons. For years, decades, those walls had protected her. Each time they came down, the results were uglier and more painful than the last, and JJ's departure and the emotional devastation Emily felt during every waking moment was only proof of that. Proof that she was better off alone, better off isolated, better off protected by those walls. So, up they went again.