AN: A multi-sectioned chapter for Mother's day. This is more than twice the length that it started out as, I kept finding something else to add :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds nor do I own Olivia Newton-John's version of All the Pretty Little Horses.

I've learned that people will forget what you said,

people will forget what you did,

but people will never forget how you made them feel.

- Maya Angelou

October 12th, 2008

1:00pm

"What about the cream cheese icing?" Asks Emily while eyeing the still cooling red velvet cupcakes on the counter.

I roll my eyes, "Gross Emmy, cream cheese is for bagels not cupcakes."

"Nuh-uh." Argues Emily. "Red velvet cupcakes are supposed to have cream cheese icing."

"But it's gross and we don't have cream cheese."

"I could go to the store." Suggests Emily.

"Yeah right. You've been in pj's since you got back from Colorado." I fervently wish that I had not looked up the Colorado case file this morning because it makes studiously ignoring Emily's flinch very difficult. "Your face is still partially purple, you can't walk very far and I can tell by the way you're breathing that your ribs hurt. You're going to walk all the way to the grocery store and then carry the cream cheese back? You haven't lifted anything heavier than a candle all weekend."

"You could come with me."

"Don't you mean go for you?"

"Maybe?"

"Alright. Hypothetically, let's say I go to the store with you. What are we going to do when you can't walk all the way there? What if you can walk there but can't walk back? I can't carry you."

"We could take my car." Offers Emily.

"You want to ride in a car with healing fractures on your ribs? I don't think so."

Emily pouts, "What if you went by yourself? Please Catherine, it's my birthday and I want cream cheese icing."

I consider Emily's plea but feel the need to ask, "What are you going to do while I'm gone?"

"Clean up." Says Emily quickly.

"Wrong answer." I frown, "You're going to sit on the couch and watch TV or a movie or you're going to lie down. If the team comes back and-"

Emily cuts me off, saying testily, "I'm an adult Catherine I can look after myself."

Warning bells go off in my head at Emily's statement, I need to patch things up quickly, "I know you can Emily, but I don't want you to fall over, puncture a lung and bleed out while I'm at the store." Okay, so it's a little over the top, but I think I've made my point. She's smiling a little.

"Fine. You win. I'll go watch a movie." Emily turns around and walks out of the kitchen, "That cream cheese icing better be awesome." She mutters quietly.

"I always win." I say to Emily's retreating form, trying my best not to laugh.

I can see Emily's shoulders shaking in silent laugher, which is good, but I'm worried about the quiet "Fuck that hurt." That I hear when Emily stops laughing.

3:00 pm

When I get back from the grocery store, Emily is asleep on the couch in the living room with the TV still on. I turn it off before going into the kitchen to make the icing. I hate cream cheese icing; there is something inherently wrong about putting cream cheese in something that should be made only of sugar. But this is what Emily wants and it is her birthday. I only make half the recipe because I am only going to cover six cupcakes. There is no way I am going to contaminate my half of the birthday cupcakes.

The phone starts ringing and I rush over, wiping my hands on my apron as I move. I don't want to wake Emily up. She only got a few hours of sleep last night and I didn't get very many more. I wish I could join in on Emily's naptime.

"Hello?" I say, answering the ringing telephone.

"Who is this?" A female voice demands on the other end of the telephone.

"Catherine." I say cautiously, leaving out my last name, "To whom am I speaking?"

"This is Ambassador Prentiss."

"Oh, you're Emily's mother. Hello." I'm a little taken aback by her abruptness but this is Emily's mother, how bad can she be?

"Put my daughter on the phone right now." She commands.

"One moment please." I say with as much patience as I can muster. Loath as I am to wake Emily, I really need to. Her mother is being rather rude and I don't know what to say to make this better.

I put Emily's mother on hold and walk quickly into the living room. I bite my lip as I try to decide the best way to wake Emily without scaring her. After a few seconds, I decide that there is no way out of scaring Emily because she isn't answering my calls. So I sit down beside her and pull up her sleeve, I wince internally at the damage revealed. Emily really should have let me bandage her arms for her. The wrappings are askew and lumpy.

I swallow my fear and apologize quietly to Emily for what I am about to do. I wrap my hand gently around Emily's wrist, the only part of her arm, which isn't damaged. I check her pulse for a few seconds before I squeeze her wrist. "Emmy, wake up!" I bark out. She startles awake and lets out a pained moan. I can taste blood in my mouth; I think my lip is bleeding where I was biting it.

"Creirwy (kree-ree)?" Emily mumbles, not quite awake yet.

"I'm sorry Emmy, really I am." I say quietly, trying to control the tremble in my voice.

The arm Emily is using to hide her yawn muffles her voice, "Why did you wake me up?"

"I'm sorry Emmy. Your mother is on the phone." I say blushing.

My statement gets an immediate reaction from Emily. Her eyes widen and I can see hope clearly displayed and then it's like a transformation has taken place. My friend is gone, the walls come up and in Emmy's place is Agent Prentiss. I hate it when she does this.

Agent Prentiss gets up off the couch and strides to the kitchen; I don't think I have seen her walk this steadily all weekend. She picks the phone up, "Mother." She says in a tightly controlled voice. I can hear the Ambassador yelling at her, but I cannot make out the words. Emily's face is blank but by her glance in my direction, I am still sitting on the couch, I can tell that the conversation is about me. I hope I didn't get Emily in trouble with the mother.

"No mother, Catherine is not some child that I am babysitting nor is she some stray that I have brought home. No, she doesn't live here, she is just visiting mother. Do you remember Agent Jareau from the BAU? Yes? Good. Well, Catherine is her little sister. Yes I know you don't think it is appropriate for a child to answer the phone. There is no need for you to call her a child. Yes mother, I know she sounds young but I would hardly call her a child, she's eighteen."

The Ambassador seems to calm down when Emily tells her that I am technically an adult. I don't like Emily's mother right now. I hate being called a child; it's bad enough that I look about fourteen. I don't need to be constantly reminded of that particular fact.

Emily looks stressed. Somehow I don't think Emily's mother called to wish her a happy birthday. Emily is talking about a Senator's ball that she is supposed to attend in a couples of weeks. I wonder if her bruises will have faded completely by then. Now Emily is trying to convince her mother that she doesn't need a new dress.

"Yes mother. I will meet you at the house before we leave for the ball. Of course mother, I will not let work interfere this time. Yes mother, I am delighted to be attending the ball with you."

What a load of crap, Emily's mother cannot possibly believe a word of what Emily is saying. Then again, maybe she doesn't know her daughter very well. If she did, she would know that Emily hates ball gowns and attending parties where she will be put on display like a piece of meat.

"Yes mother I will tell her. Good-bye mother." Emily hangs up the phone. I can hear a small sigh but Agent Prentiss' mask stays firmly in place. I wonder if she is crying on the inside.

"The Ambassador says hello and good-bye Catherine." Emily says in a monotone.

I blurt out before I can stop myself, "Emily, why didn't your mother wish you a happy birthday?" I bite my lip and wince, as I taste blood in my mouth again, I really need to stop biting my lips.

Emily frowns at me and I fear that I have crossed a line that I didn't even know existed. "The Ambassador does not have enough time to be bothered by such insignificant details as one's birthday."

My jaw drops open in shock. "Let me get this straight." I say before Emily can stop me, "Your mother, the woman who gave birth to you, doesn't think your birthday is important? That's really stupid on her part Emmy." The nickname is a calculated risk, it might bring Emmy back or it might push Agent Prentiss to leave the room. Her eyes flicker for a moment and I continue my rant, "You're her daughter, she should care that it's your birthday. She should love you. She should be here, or send flowers or a gift, a card, anything to acknowledge that she has a daughter. You're an amazing person Emmy and she's an idiot if she doesn't realize that."

My risk pays off, or maybe it was my rant. Emmy is back. She chuckles, "I don't think I have ever heard someone call my mother an idiot before."

I blush. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize, it was nice to hear that not everyone thinks the sun shines out of my mother's arse."

I can't help myself. I burst out laughing, I know it's partly nerves but it feels nice to be able to relax for a few minutes.

4:30 pm

Emily looks around the kitchen, it's still messy but she doesn't seem to care. "You made the cream cheese icing!" exclaims Emily, a huge grin on her face.

"Of course I did. It's your birthday." I say rolling my eyes, pretending that I had never been against it.

"You've only covered six Creirwy (kree-ree)." Comments Emily

"And I'm only going to cover six in your icing Emmy."

"My icing?" she asks, confused.

"Yes yours. You didn't honestly expect me to contaminate my half of the cupcakes with cream cheese?"

She looks a little sheepish.

"You did, didn't you?" I start laughing, "Emmy, I have buttercream icing for myself. The same stuff we had on the cupcakes Friday and Saturday."

She nods once and looks around the kitchen. "I think I'm going to lie down for a little bit."

"Don't you want your presents Emmy?" I ask, concerned.

"Presents?" Emily frowns, "You brought me a present?"

I raise an eyebrow, "If you mean besides my charming self, yes. Of course I did silly. Birthdays mean presents and cupcakes and spending time with family and friends. Since the team is gone, you're stuck with me."

"They don't know it's my birthday." She protests.

"Are you 100% sure of that Emmy?" I tease.

Emily glares at me, "You're the only one I've told, so unless you told the team, they shouldn't know."

"Hey!" I protest, holding out my hands, "I didn't tell anyone anything about your birthday."

"Not even JJ?"

"I didn't tell Jen Emily. I don't see what the big deal is, they would want to celebrate with you. Just like I would have celebrated with you last year if you hadn't have been away on a case."

"You called me." Says Emily.

"Of course I did, you're acting like no one has ever done anything like that before Emmy."

Emily's silence says it all.

"Emmy, you really don't have anyone else do you?"

Emily does not answer my question. She looks away and my heart aches for her.

I walk cautiously over to her and stop a few feet away to see if she will acknowledge me. When Emily tilts her head, I close the last few feet between us and, knowing that there is no part of her body that is not covered in bruises, I give her a very gentle hug. She wraps her injured arms around me. When I unwrap my arms from around Emily, she hesitates for a moment before releasing me.

"Time for presents." I say smiling up at her.

Emily smiles back and doesn't say anything even when I take her hand and lead her to my bedroom where I had previously stashed the presents.

I direct Emily towards the bed and she sits down on the edge farthest away from where I am situated, leaning against the headboard. I lean over, half off the bed to pick up my bag. I reach in and pull out a large bottle of Vodka. There is a silver bow on the cap. "Here Emmy." I say, offering her the bottle.

"Where did you get that?" asks a confused Emily.

I smile at her, "Spence bought it."

Emily blurts out, "Reid bought you alcohol?"

I can't help but smile at the absurd notion of Spencer buying alcohol for me. "No silly, he bought you alcohol. For your birthday."

"Reid knows when my birthday is? No don't answer that, of course he does, this is Reid we're talking about. What kind is it?" asks Emily, without taking the bottle from me.

I look at the bottle before answering "Vincent Van Gogh?" That is a weird name for Vodka.

Emily snickers, "Really?"

I nod, "Mhm."

"Interesting." Says Emily, finally taking the bottle away from me. "How did you hide this from Jen?"

"It wasn't that difficult," I grin, "I stuck it in Una's bed."

Emily's jaw drops before she exclaims, "You did what with my Vodka?"

I bite the uninjured side of my lip to try and stop the laughter that is bubbling out of me, "I hid-"

Emily cuts me off, "Yes I heard what you said Catherine. Why on earth would you hide it in your cat's bed?"

I think my reasoning is perfectly sound, "Because Jen would never look there, unlike my closet or drawers. Besides, Una doesn't sleep in her bed, she sleeps in mine."

Emily rolls her eyes, "Fine. Please excuse me while I go wash my birthday present."

I stop trying to contain my laughter as Emily walks away with her Vodka. I'm glad the bathroom is only a few feet away so that Emily will not strain herself trying to wash Spencer's present. I wonder how Spence knows that Emily likes Vodka. I guess it might be from when the team goes out for a drink. Obviously, I can't go with them, but I am allowed to attend when they go out for dinner.

When Emily returns without her freshly scrubbed bottle of Vodka I am momentarily concerned. It must be written on my face because Emily does her best to assuage my fears. "I put it on the kitchen counter Creiwry (kree-ree), don't worry, I didn't try to lift it up into the cupboards."

I smile at Emily when she sits down next to me. I hold out a small square package to Emily. The wrapping paper is a dark green with black spirals. Emily takes a moment to stare at the wrapping paper before looking at me. I shift uncomfortably; maybe I should have given her the other present first.

Emily's face is stuck between happy and scared, she is staring at the CD she is holding in her hands, Snow Patrol's Eyes Open like it's going to jump up and bite her.

I rush to explain, "It's an older CD Emmy, and the newest one won't come out for two more weeks. You'll like this one Emmy, they don't talk at all." Emily and I have been listening to Snow Patrol in the car for almost two years now. She always seems to get spooked when they talk. So I stopped playing live recordings in the car.

Emily squeezes my hand, "Thank you Catherine."

Relieved, I offer up the next present, a small rectangular box, wrapped in the same wrapping paper.
Emily releases my hand so that she can unwrap her last present. I am pleased with her reaction to this present; Emily's grin is as wide as her face. I'm glad I kept it till last. What Emily is cradling in her hands is a framed photograph of the two of us, asleep on her living room couch. Penelope took it about six months ago and I got my copy from her.

"I love it Creirwy (kree-ree), truly. I will put it on my dresser. There is no need for this to be in the living room. Or we could keep it here in your room Creirwy (kree-ree)." Emily runs her finger along the frame, "I remember that night Catherine. We watched Juno and Practical Magic. We had Chinese food. Earlier that day, Morgan suggested that Reid should join us because his hair was getting really long. His face was tomato red. I don't remember Garcia saying she took pictures."

"She's been documenting practically everything I do ever since I met her. I shudder to think what she's will do when Jen's baby is born."

Emily laughs. "That child will have every last dirty diaper and bath time photographed. Never mind all the firsts." Emily pauses. She looks haunted for just a moment before it passes. I wonder what she was thinking but I don't ask, I don't want to intrude.

"Thank you Catherine. This has been one of my best birthdays." Says Emily with a gentle smile on her face.

If this was one of the best and we haven't really done anything, I don't want to know what Emily considers to be a bad birthday.

7:00 pm

Dinner was quiet and nothing special, we just ordered some Thai food. I sang happy birthday to Emily and then she was allowed to blow out the candle and eat her cupcake. The cupcakes were heavenly. After dinner Emily and I watched a few more episodes of Buffy season 6, including the musical, Once More With Feeling. It was nice to sit down, relax and eat popcorn.

After Once More With Feeling, was over, I went back to my bedroom to study because Emily said she wanted to lie down again. We said good night and I wished her a happy birthday before she locked herself in her bedroom. I thought I heard crying, but my knocking went unanswered and the door was effectively barred.

11:50 pm

There is a knock at my door. I look up from my new book, Chrétien De Troyes' The Knight of the Cart and see Emily standing in the doorway holding the same candlestick as last night. I am surprised that she has shown up on time, I wasn't sure she would come back. Her eyes are bloodshot; I guess I really did hear her crying earlier. I wish it wasn't true.

"May I join you?" she asks.

I think she is a little nervous so I smile and cross my legs, leaving space for her on my bed.

Emily sits on the edge of the bed and stares blankly out the window.

Her body language indicates that she is uncomfortable, but I can't see Emily's face properly so I'm not sure that I'm reading her correctly.

When she finally looks at me, I can see the tears in her eyes threatening to fall. I want to hug her but I'm not sure it would be welcome so I just rest my hand near her on the bed, the offer open without pushing.

I smile internally when Emily takes my offered hand. We rise from the bed together and take the three steps necessary to reach the table under the window where my candles are already set up. I can see that Emily's knuckles are white from holding onto the candlestick so tightly. I light my three candles and then offer the lighter to Emily, she gently takes it from me and lights her solitary candle. I want so badly to ask who the candle is for but I squash that idea before it can reach my lips. This is definitely not a good time to be asking prying questions, I'm not sure there ever really is a good time.

We stand silently side-by-side, hands clasped, and we watch the candles burn. I start swaying with exhaustion again so I say, "Good night mama, and good night daddy, good night Jessie, good night Jen. I miss you. I love you. Please come home safely."

Emily whispers, "Buona notte," and we blow out our candles at the same time.

Just like last night, Emily gives me a slight push in the direction of the bed and I comply but I don't let go of her hand. I climb into bed and she tries to tuck me in, but I won't let go of her hand.

"Catherine-" she starts.

I cut her off, "Stay Emmy, please?" Emily needs comfort and familiarity just as much as I do right now. Even though we spent a lot of time arguing, I'm glad I spent the weekend with Emily and not in the University dorms with my friend Clara. Emily deserves to have someone around for her birthday, even if she doesn't ask for it.

She sighs but climbs into bed with me. She wraps me up in her arms and I use her shoulder as my pillow.

I drift for a few minutes in the fog between being awake and asleep. Something is missing, I pull myself out of the fog as best I can and look at Emily. I try to focus on her face so that I can make the fuzziness in my head go away. It works for the most part, my vision is clear again. I bite my lip, "Emmy, will you sing to me?"

"Catherine?" She looks confused.

"Please?" I beg.

She sighs, "All right Creirwy (kree-ree), but you're going to have to let go of me. I need to sit up to sing."

I unwrap my arms from around Emily and move away a little, giving her space.

When Emily sits up, she leans against the headboard, crosses her legs and puts a pillow in her lap.

I raise an eyebrow, not completely sure that I've interpreted her gesture properly.

She gives me a small smile and pats the pillow.

I curl up with my head on the pillow in Emily's lap. When Emily starts singing I am pleasantly surprised, she has a really good voice:

"Hush-a-bye, don't you cry

Go to sleep little baby

When you wake, you shall take

All the pretty little horses

Blacks and bays, dapples and greys

Coach and six little horses

Hush-a-bye, don't you cry

Go to sleep little baby"

I fall asleep, but something rouses me, I can hear someone crying. "Emmy," I mumble, not quite awake but not quite asleep either, "where's the baby?"

"Creirwy (kree-ree), you're half asleep. I don't have a kid." Emily sounds both confused and defensive.

There is that nickname again, it is always distracting to hear Emily call me that. As far as I know, Emily doesn't have a separate nickname for anyone else. Being called Creirwy (kree-ree), makes me feel important. I frown sleepily, attempting to stay on task, "I'm sure I heard crying Emmy."

Emily runs her fingers through my hair, "Go back to sleep kiddo."

"Mmm, okay Emmy. Happy Birthday." I mumble.

All because of you,

I haven't slept in so long.

When I do I dream of drowning in the ocean,

Longing for the shore where I can lay my head down,

Inside these arms of yours.

- The Good Left Undone, Rise Against