"We have got to quit meeting like this," The blonde said as she walked into the sterile ER area. Emily hadn't been given an actual room this time, instead being placed in somewhat of a large holding area that was divided by sheets. There was a small metal cabinet in the room with a wooden stool sitting next to it, and a film of Emily's arm against an X-ray illuminator. And then there was Emily, sitting on a small cot-like bed in the middle of the space.

Things had been a little strained between the two since Houston. It wasn't really anything of Emily's doing either, like one might have expected. JJ had found herself repeating what Emily had said to her that night in the parking lot over and over again:

Somewhere along the line it became like a need for you. You have to know I'm okay.

She was right. Emily was always right. JJ couldn't remember when it happened. Maybe the case where the other woman was struck in the head, to be honest it had happened so often JJ couldn't seem to determine when exactly that shift occurred. And Emily was also right in that she didn't feel that way with other team members. They were FBI agents. Reid had been kidnapped. Hotch had been stabbed. Garcia had been shot. Morgan had almost blown up in New York. Rossi had gotten his designer shoes dirty? She had to admit she was a little lost on him.

But the point was that bad things happened when you were an FBI agent. When you're field agents chasing down suspects who oftentimes get off on killing people you're going to be in danger. And JJ worried about her teammates. She wanted to help take care of them. She would even desperately pray for them when they were in grave danger as some sort of a last resort precaution. But Emily was different.

Emily was always different.

She worried about her other teammates, but she didn't need to touch and physically connect to them to ensure they were safe. She didn't need to kiss or caress Hotch, or Reid, or Garcia. She didn't need to repeat their names over and over again as a sort of late night mantra. She didn't need to count their breaths at night after they finally fell asleep, or run her hands over their body to make sure they were still there. So when Emily found herself shot on the last case JJ had found it difficult to appear unaffected and ready to carry on with Morgan in apprehending the unsub. And guessing by the sympathetic look on Emily's face, Emily knew it too.

"Well you know what I always say."

JJ chuckles good-naturedly, "If you can't take the risk then go teach criminology or something."

"Exactly," Emily says with a grin. "Really, I'm fine. I'm pretty sure I'm bulletproof."

JJ starts laughing again, "Right."

"And where is the evidence that proves otherwise?"

"Mhmm."

"I literally cannot die."

For some reason it's that statement that darkens the mood, because Emily and JJ don't talk like that. Emily hardly ever puts "die" and herself in the same sentence, knowing the effect it has on the other woman. JJ briefly stares at the shiny linoleum floors before looking back up at Emily, "You're not indestructible."

Emily just nods at the statement, debating what would be best to say in the situation. "I'm very good at my job. Everything else...I mean, who knows? But this- the BAU- tactically, I'm very good. I just don't see myself getting gravely injured again unless I make a mistake." Emily studies the expression of the other woman. JJ's expression is blank. She looks focused and almost unreadable, and she probably would be if Emily were anyone else. But Emily knows that look. She knows it's the same face JJ pulls before going in pursuit of an unsub. It's the healthy fear that never really went away. "Doyle, that was a mistake. My decision-making was clouded by, just, everything. That was a special circumstance though. I'm okay. I don't make mistakes like that anymore. And I know I'm not indestructible. None of us are, not really. But in this moment right now, I feel invincible." She shifts around in the bed, frustrated that the discharge nurse still hadn't come in.

JJ lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, "You're in a good mood for someone who was just shot."

"Grazed, babe," Emily corrects with a smile, "They also gave me some Vicodin so things are looking up." They both laugh at the joke before Emily starts again with a chuckle, trying to imitate JJ's blasé voice, "You're hit."

"Shut up," The blonde chides over another laugh.

"Thanks for the heads up, Jayje. Really I would've had no idea otherwise," Emily rises her injured arm for the sake of dramatics, "What was even the plan there?"

"I don't know," JJ admits. There are tears in her eyes from laughing so hard. It wasn't really as funny as JJ thought it was, but for some reason she finds the entire ordeal hysterical. She's trying to compose herself, the serious-turned-lighthearted ER room conversation lulling her into a false sense of security, which makes her completely unaware when she breathes it out, "God, I love you."

Emily decides to ignore it for both their sakes, instead remarking on how the nurse must've forgot her and continuing the easy conversation, but the four words burrow in he mind.

God, I love you.

And in the moment, she feels invincible.

The timeline of Emily and JJ's relationship could be split into two distinct eras- before Henry was born and after. Pre-Henry everything was lighter. Emily had known that JJ was seeing Will, but she also knew it didn't mean anything. It was like JJ's way of assuring herself she wasn't falling in love with another woman. It was her way of having a cover- a boyfriend if her mother asked or tried to set her up with someone she knew from back home. And Emily wasn't a jealous person so she didn't mind. Actually that was a lie. It definitely bothered her. Every time she knew JJ was going to Louisiana it made her feel sick, saliva filling her mouth as she tried to resist the urge to vomit. The thoughts of what Will would be doing to her over the course of the weekend, touching her with his hands. She couldn't bear to think about it, but she also didn't quite know how to get the thoughts out of her head.

Pre-Henry was a game. Lust was turning into love and neither one of them wanted to cry uncle. JJ was too scared to admit that she was in love with a woman, and Emily was too scared to admit she was in love with someone, period. On the other hand, Post-Henry was darker, crueler. Post-Henry was affairs and resentment and jealously, and it started the first time after JJ needed to assure Emily of how much she still needed her.

The team had already been exhausted, still drained from their ordeal in Canada. It was one of those cases that would always stick with them. JJ noticed that Emily seemed especially nervous and fidgety on the plane ride back to D.C., but decided not to press the issue. If Emily had wanted to talk to her she would. Their relationship had been surprisingly civil and simple since Henry was born. JJ had returned from maternity leave and it felt like before, like the brief weeks of the two working together before everything escalated. They were familiar, but professional. Lines had been drawn and hadn't been crossed. JJ went home everyday to Henry and Will, and Emily did whatever Emily did on her time off. She didn't ask because that seemed to be the new rule- no asking questions. No seeking of any other information besides what was offered, such had been the case when some of the team had been asked to help Emily investigate the death of her friend. Michael or Matthew, JJ couldn't even remember his name. That's how out of Emily's inner circle she had been.

Emily had looked distressed that day. JJ couldn't forget the look, but it wasn't her place anymore. She respected that. She respected the boundaries that Emily had seemingly set the second she walked out of her hospital room the day Henry was born. She had seen the way Emily watched her every time they worked on a case where blonde women were targeted, but she didn't say anything about it. So the stressed expression that played on Emily's features on that plane ride back to D.C. was treated by JJ like everything else that occurred over the previous six months- it was ignored.

Aside from the exhaustion and the haunting case before, the day had started off fairly normally. Hotch was nowhere to be found, but Emily seemed to be more concerned about it than anyone. It wasn't until Emily had called the team to report Hotch missing that JJ had realized severity of the situation.

Emily, however, had felt vindicated in her feelings, as wrong as it sounded. She would never admit it- because who would she really admit it to- but Emily found herself relating to the missing persons who had been killed and disposed of on that Canadian farm. She spent the plane ride home wondering if anyone would really miss her. Her and her mother weren't very close. They could go weeks without talking and it wouldn't seem out of the ordinary.

Her father was dead.

She didn't have any siblings.

She wasn't in a relationship.

All she really had was the BAU. The only way someone might have a hunch she was murdered and fed to pig would be if she didn't show up for work. So when Hotch went missing Emily took it personally. They were very similar. She wasn't sure of his family situation, but she knew he was divorced and his entire life was the BAU. If he was in trouble it was her responsibility to save him, just like he would do for her.

Watching Haley and Jack leave Hotch to go into protective custody, unsure if they would ever see each other again in the near future, it broke Emily more than she thought it would. Like everyone else, she had went home that night intent on finally decompressing and catching on sleep.

But she couldn't relax.

She repeatedly opened and closed her phone; unsure of whom she would even call. She knew she couldn't call the one person she wanted to, because now they had rules, her rules. Real rules that they didn't just break at will. It was different when it was Emily and JJ, and sometimes Will- when JJ had a long weekend and nothing better to do. Now it was just JJ and Will.

She mindlessly flipped through the channels, not really wanting to watch TV, but also not wanting to sit in silence. She was too tired to read. Her head hurt too much to listen to music. She had reached the point where she was too hungry she didn't even feel like eating anymore. She runs her hands over her eyes and through her hair before flipping through the channels once again. She can't help but wonder what her life would be like if she was anyone else. And maybe if she was anyone else she would be content with a "normal" life. Her thoughts are interrupted by a knock at her door. Rossi, she thinks first, then decides that it's probably Derek.

She slowly walks to the door, not bothering to look through the peephole before she opens it, and she's thoroughly shocked when she sees JJ standing in her hallway. The blonde is wearing jeans and a salmon colored ribbed sweater, so she had gone home to change before she got there.

JJ was breaking the number one rule of the unspoken set of the rules they had agreed upon after Henry was born, so Emily is caught too off guard to say anything.

"Em?"

"Right," The brunette says as she opens her door wider and moves inside, allowing the blonde to enter, "Come in." Emily wants to ask what JJ's doing there. What she needed, but she's too tired to bother, content to walk back to the corner seat of her sofa again instead.

"What's going on with you?" JJ asks. She's completely confused by the other woman's behavior. She's so distant, but also unexpectedly exposed.

"Don't you have a husband waiting for you at home?" She notices the shortness in Emily's tone and wonders why she's exposing herself like this. Perhaps she's just too tired to pretend everything is all right. Her exhaustion has compromised her- letting the little cracks in her façade, the irritation and bitterness show. But JJ doesn't flitch at it. She knows Emily, possibly better than anyone. She knows her behavior. She knows that only when she's really upset does she become so unguarded.

"No." JJ simply offers as she sets her brown leather purse down on the grey granite counter and makes her way to sit next to Emily. She pretends to watch the rapidly changing channels before speaking up again, "So what's going on with you?"

"Just a long day."

The older woman still refuses to look at her. Her brown eyes are trained on the flashing TV, the picture turning from black to white, present time to past, news to fantasy in a matter of seconds. "You were off on the plane, too."

Emily rolls her eyes at the claim, "I wasn't."

"You had that look on your face- the one you get when you're actively trying to compartmentalize your feelings."

Emily finally puts down the remote and pinches the bridge of her nose, responding in a softer tone than before, "It was just a long day."

"Emily."

"No one noticed them," Emily offers as JJ is left confused once again. She takes Emily's hand in her own and rests it on her knee, rubbing small circles over the base of Emily's thumb. "There were so many…and Hotch."

JJ tilts her head at the mention of her boss' name, "Hotch?"

"He was taken and no one noticed. I just- the BAU is the only thing some of us have…" Emily drifts off and JJ finally feels clued in to what this is all about, and it breaks her heart.

"I would know," JJ firmly says as she gently lifts her hand to turn Emily's chin to face her, making eye contact for the first time since Emily opened the door, "I would know if you were in trouble."

"JJ-"

"I would know."

Emily shakes her head at the claim and takes back her hand to begin picking at her thumbnail, "Your busy with your own life now."

"I'm not."

"You have a new life. You have Will."

"Will's-" She's afraid to say it, but it sounds like Emily believes that in some way he replaced her in JJ's heart, as if the blonde was able to completely move on and find contentment in the man. And she needs to hear the truth, and JJ needs to be able to say it. Emily is right there and she needs JJ to say it, no matter the previous arrangement or rules Emily needs to know. "Will's not you. He never has been."

Emily is unsure of how to process that sentence, "What are you saying?"

"That whatever you think about me moving past you- about you not holding on to a piece of me anymore- it's not true."

Suddenly they're impossibly close to each other, Emily able to smell the perfume wafting off JJ's body. It was almost comical. For the past few months they had been so careful around each other, but now everything was frantic. JJ's sweater falling to floor, Emily's pants finding a new home beside them. The once quiet apartment is filled with the sounds of lips against skin and panting.

And that was when the Post-Henry era began.