I would love to hear your thoughts.

I do not own Criminal Minds

Emily sat on the couch with a book in her hand. She hadn't had much time to read while at Interpol, and was devouring the book she had just bought.

Reading was good, reading helped.

She had read a lot after Doyle. All those months in hiding, in solitude. Books made her feel less alone. Even if they were just characters on a page, in a world that would never exist except on paper, it helped her escape. Escape the loneliness and fear. The pain.

And now she was using it to escape her memories.

Because any world she could hold in her hand was better than her own.

When she was with JJ, when she was with Derek or the team, she could forget. But when she was alone, with nothing to distract her, it became paralysing. The memories, the hurt, the goddamn guilt.

It brought her back to the hospital, laying in the bed, drifting in and out of consciousness, and wishing she were dead. Because she knew, even in that half-awake dream state, that they were dead. She remembered their blood and bodies. She remembered searching desperately for a pulse. She remembered that moment when she knew she had been wrong, when she knew she had failed them.

Because she should not have survived when so many others had died.

It had been her job, her responsibility, to keep them safe. And she had failed.

She had failed.

Emily was no longer looking at her book. She stared away, wrapped up in her own mind. She could feel herself being pulled further and further into the past. She knew it would make things worse, but she didn't stop it, she didn't try.

When Emily opened her eyes her head was ringing and there was a buzzing in her ears. The room was filled with dust. Her leg hurt, oh god it hurt. But that was good. Pain was good. It meant she was alive.

She felt herself being pulled backward and fought to stand.

"Prentiss, it's Rogers, we have to get out!"

He helped her to her feet, but she turned to face the room where just moment ago she had seen her agents kneeling, gagged and bound. "We have to get them," she shouted above the ringing in her ears.

She tried to run forward, but he pulled her back. "They're gone," he shouted.

And when she looked ahead she knew he was right.

"Come on," Rogers pulled her back and she stumbled.

Rogers helped her and they ran back to where the three other agents were retreating. They were at the same door they had entered through when another bomb went off.

A scream pierced through the dull roar in Emily's ears. She blinked her eyes open and they burned. She looked down at her own leg and saw a large piece of metal sticking out of her thigh. She tried to stand, but was unable to get off the ground, a scream escaping her lips.

She looked around frantically, searching for the others. She saw Smith and Bentley, they were both standing up, looking dazed. Emily continued her search and saw Rogers, who had been next to her when the second explosion had occurred, who had been helping her toward the exit. He was slumped against the cement wall, a piece of shrapnel lodged in his lower stomach.

Emily looked down at her own leg. With both hands she took hold of the large piece of metal and gritted her teeth as she pulled it out. She couldn't stop the scream that came, the pain was so agonizing, her vision began to blot. When Emily had regained her breath she dragged herself to Rogers, leaving a trail of blood in her wake.

Just by looking at him she knew it was bad. "Where's Diaz?" She shouted, her eyes not leaving Rogers.

"Emily?"

Emily looked around trying to find who was calling her name.

"Emily? Are you okay?"

Emily felt a hand on her and jolted forward, she hit her leg on the table in front of her and swore. Her breathing was fast and she felt simultaneously cold and hot. She blinked rapidly, the fog in her vision clearing.

She looked up and saw JJ, her face held so much concern that Emily immediately had to look away. She couldn't see that, not now, not if she wanted to keep some semblance of control. The cushion next to her shifted as JJ sat down. JJ's body was warm next to hers. Her breathing was even. Emily matched it. She breathed in and out in time with JJ and eventually her heart began to slow.

She could breathe.

"It's okay," JJ said softly, "you're okay."

If only she knew how wrong she is, Emily thought.

JJ waited before speaking again. She listened as Emily's breaths evened and watched her body stop shaking. "What can I do?" She asked.

Emily said nothing, but JJ waited. And then slowly Emily moved her hand, held it out. JJ took it in hers and held it. They sat like that, neither speaking, neither moving except for the gentle circular motions JJ made with her thumb on Emily's hand.

"Talk to me," JJ said.

Emily looked down again. She stared at the floor. Then she looked at her leg where just beneath her thin layer of clothing was a gash, her skin held together by stitches.

She wasn't ready. She couldn't. To say the words out loud, it was more than she could handle.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Don't be," JJ said, "talk to me when you're ready. I'm here. I'm always here."

They sat like that for a while longer, hand in hand. Then Emily took a few deep breaths and sat up.

"Do you want dinner?" JJ asked.

Emily shook her head, "I'm not hungry."

"How about a movie then?"

Emily agreed and JJ got up to start something. Emily didn't pay much attention to it. Gently she leaned against JJ, her warm body and even breaths calming her. She closed her eyes. She tried not to think about anything but JJ. She thought of her smile, and her laugh, and her bright blue eyes.

She thought of JJ's hand in hers.