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"It is worth dying to find out what life is." –T.S. Eliot
"Reid, hey. Sorry I'm late, I got stuck in traffic on the way here," Emily says quickly as she throws her coat over the back of the chair, hangs her purse up and shoots me an apologetic look.
"It's mostly my fault for suggesting this time. A recent department of transportation study conducted here in the city found that depending on the distance to be travelled, a person's commute during peak traffic times can be up to three to four times longer than during non peak hours," I reply with a reassuring smile.
Her expression turns to one of amusement, "Oh, how I missed your rambling. I'm gonna grab a drink, you want one?"
I hold up my cup of hot coffee, "No thanks, I've already got one."
She raises an eyebrow in response, "And how much longer until you finish it?"
"Taking into consideration my last intake of fluids and depending on the depth of our conversation's subject matter it could range anywhere from-"
"O…kay, I'm getting my drink now," she says, interrupting my thought process.
I watch as she retrieves some cash from her wallet and heads toward the register to order. My gaze drifts to the paper on the table in front of me. It's a local paper, and the lead story describes how a young girl had fallen into a pool, and being unable to swim, would have drowned if not for the heroics of her family's Labrador retriever, Schroeder.
My thoughts instantly turn to the events of our last case, where the unsub had been drowning and resuscitating his victims in order to see if their experiences with death had changed. The conversation we'd had as a team that brought that very theory to fruition is what my mind focuses on.
"But come on guys. Gentle lights, shadowy figures? Those are the lights in the emergency room and the doctors hovering over the patients, we all know that. No one actually sees the afterlife," Morgan says with a hint of irritation and skepticism in his voice.
His words remind me of my own experience, and to further our collective theorizing I reveal something I've never told anyone.
"I did."
Everyone's heads turn to face me in surprise, except Emily, whose face is unreadable. Their questioning gazes prompt me to explain myself, "Before Tobias Hankel resuscitated me I had that exact experience, and I wasn't in an emergency room. I was in a shed."
Morgan's tone is gentler as he speaks, "Reid, you never told me that."
"I'm a man of science. I-I- I didn't know how to deal with it. There's no quantifiable proof that God exists, and yet in that moment I was faced with something that I couldn't explain. Still can't."
"What if this unsub has had a similar experience and this is his way of looking for answers?" Hotch interjects, bringing us back on topic.
"If that's the case, why kill Jake Shepherd? Why not just talk to him?" Rossi adds.
I'm somewhat surprised when Emily joins in with a confident tone, "He wanted to see if he had the same experience as before."
"Once isn't enough?" JJ asks, not quite believing it.
"Not if Jake didn't see the same thing the unsub did. He wants to know if the experience can change. I can relate to that," Emily responds.
She shifts slightly in her seat when she realizes we're all looking at her questioningly. It's as if she wasn't quite aware of what she revealed.
She exhales before clarifying, "Reid felt a warmth and saw a light. When I coded in the ambulance, all I felt was cold and darkness."
Her eyes studiously avoid all of our gazes and she turns her head downward, as though she is ashamed of revealing this information.
I see Morgan release a breath and close his eyes as a pained expression crosses his face momentarily, before he replaces it with a neutral one and focuses his gaze back on her. JJ's eyes widen and a sympathetic look graces her features.
"And I would like to think that there's a different future waiting for me," Emily finishes.
Perhaps it is my innate need to confirm what I'd heard, or perhaps it is because I'd finally accepted that she did not die at Doyle's hands, but nevertheless my mouth opens before I'm entirely cognizant of it.
"You actually died?"
Her head lifts at my words and her face is a mixture of regret, guilt, and pain. She breathes in deeply as she closes her eyes to regain her composure, but none of us are fooled.
"Reid. Reid?"
I'm brought back to the present by her voice calling my name, "Sorry, what were you saying?"
She frowns, "Are you okay?"
"Fine," I say with a half-hearted smile, but her expression tells me she isn't fooled by my efforts.
"I was just thinking," I say vaguely, hoping it will be enough to pacify her.
She laughs lightly, "When aren't you thinking?"
I frown slightly, "Studies have shown that actually we're always-"
"Reid, it was a joke."
"Oh."
"Now, are you going to tell me what's got you looking so pensive, or am I going to have to beat you at chess to get it out of you?" she says with a smile, referencing the many times in the past she's managed to defeat me and get me to open up about an issue.
"I was just remembering something you said during the case."
She sighs, "I knew this would come up again. What do you want to know?"
I take a moment to have a drink from my coffee before speaking.
"So… you actually died?"
She nods, and her expression screams of regret and guilt, "So they tell me."
"What exactly did you experience?"
"I told you guys, just a feeling of cold and darkness," she says sadly.
"That's it?"
She shrugs and takes a long sip of her drink, which judging by its smell and appearance is green tea. Given the extent of her injuries at the hands of Ian Doyle, and her recent efforts to 'relax more', chances are high her choice in beverage is indeed green tea.
"Do you think the experience can change? Considering the difference in what we each saw, I mean."
She takes a moment to consider my question before answering, "I hope so. I like to think that I've done enough good in this life to warrant something a little less tinged in despair. I mean, I'm no saint, but I'm not exactly the picture of evil either."
"You really think our actions define our afterlife?"
"To be honest, I'm not sure. I've never really had an easy or clear relationship with religion or spirituality, but I like to think the good eventually balances out the bad."
"Even given what we see every single day on our job?"
"I don't know Spencer, it's not exactly sorted out entirely in my head," she snaps back, a bit of frustration seeping into her tone.
Our conversation is interrupted by one of the employees at the café, "Miss, here's the coffee you ordered."
She smiles and pushes the cup toward me with a knowing twinkle in her eye.
"Thank you," she says to the girl and hands her a $20 bill.
"What kind of coffee is this?" I ask, noting the exchange of money and feeling my eyes widen slightly.
She chuckles, "Just plain coffee. I asked them to delay making it and delivering it a bit to give you a chance to finish the one you had."
"Have," I correct.
"No, had," she insists. "Take a look in the cup, Dr. Reid. You finished it a few minutes ago."
"I did? How did you know I would finish it before we left?"
"Because you practically inhale coffee."
"That doesn't make any sense. If I-"
"Reid, just drink the coffee," she says with a shake of her head as she laughs.
I grab the cup and begin taking small sips as she drinks her own beverage.
"This is one expensive coffee."
She chuckles, "Worth every penny."
We settle into a comfortable silence until my curiosity gets the better of me and I ask, "What was it like waking up and learning you were dead?"
She doesn't answer immediately and instead lets out a shaky breath.
"Emily, I'm sorry. You don't have to answer if you don't want to," I rush to correct my mistake. It wasn't until after the words had escaped my mouth that I realized it was a bit too blunt a way of asking.
"No, I- I owe it to you. It's the least I can do after putting you through all of that," she says before pausing to consider her response. It's clear she's fighting her instincts to internalize her emotions in order to regain my trust, and her efforts do not go unnoticed by me.
"I'm not sure words quite capture it, but there was a certain level of… despair that took hold. I realized even before they told me I was being sent abroad that I would probably never see any of you ever again. And that you would spend the rest of your lives thinking I didn't trust you."
Her eyes are cast downward toward the nearly empty cup in her hands, but I can still see the turmoil and guilt swirling.
"All of the ramifications of my actions became crystal clear the moment they said that Emily Prentiss no longer existed. The nurses told me after that I screamed and fought against the agents that told me. They had to sedate me to make sure I didn't exacerbate my injuries."
"You didn't hear it from Hotch or JJ?" I asked. I always assumed one of them had been the one to tell her.
"No," she says with a shake of her head. "I never saw Hotch, and only saw JJ a handful of times in the beginning. I'm guessing after my initial reaction, the higher-ups thought it best for me to hear anything else from a familiar face. I was pretty out of it though, thanks to the many medications they had me on. I don't particularly remember most of my time in the hospital."
"It's not uncommon for victims of traumatic incidents resulting in major injury to repress their memory of the event or what immediately follows."
Her lack of response and strange expression confuse me and I shoot her a questioning glance.
"I just realized that that's how you guys had to look at me."
I frown further in confusion.
"As a victim," she clarifies.
I open my mouth to respond, but no words form. My eyes dart back and forth as my mind frantically races to determine the best response.
"It's okay, it makes sense. I just- I never considered it that way until now," she says with a smile that is meant to comfort me.
She finishes off the last of her green tea before pressing on, "Listen, Reid, if you're going to blame anyone for all of this, please, blame me. Don't take it out on JJ and Hotch, they just did what they had to. I never meant to bring any of you into my mess, but they got pulled in and did what they had to do. It's my fault Doyle came into the picture at all."
"Emily, it' not that simple. I cried and spilled my heart out to her, and she knew all along that you were alive. I trusted her, and she took that for granted."
"Reid, she couldn't say anything! If Doyle saw even a hint that I was alive he would have gone after you guys until I came out from hiding. He wouldn't have stopped at anything. Trust me, his hatred of me ran pretty deep."
I know what she's saying is true, but it still doesn't quite sink in entirely. She seems to sense my lack of acceptance and sighs deeply.
"Spence, I'm sorry that we had to lie to you, I really am. But like I told you, it was the only way. If you're going to hate someone, hate me, not her. She saved my life by doing what she did, even though it meant lying to you all."
I smile and take a large gulp of coffee before speaking again, "I know, it's just hard to swallow."
She nods and offers a small knowing smile in return.
"I know I didn't really say it before, but I am really glad you're back, Emily."
She smiles genuinely, "I can't tell you how glad I am to be back. I missed you guys every day. But you need to catch me up on everything new with you, Dr. Reid. I have almost 8 months to catch up on!"
And just like that I feel us settle into our old routine of coffee and conversation. It had taken me nearly a month to be able to agree to such an outing, but now that I'm here, I'm glad I did. I'd missed her, and having my de facto older sister back was nothing short of amazing.
I'd love to hear what you think and/or feel about the chapter!