She baked cupcakes.
She frosted every single one, decorating them with sprinkles so they would say: Congratulations, graduate! She just needed something, anything , that could possibly distract her from Emily.
Emily. Oh, god, Emily. She missed her so much, missed the way they would go out with J.J on girl's nights, missed the way they would roll their eyes at some misogynistic thing Morgan would say, missed the way they could talk for hours about dating and life and dreams and goals. Now, Penelope would never see her face again. Now, she would never hear her voice, never listen to her quips or laugh at her jokes.
It was all over.
Kevin entered the kitchen with a smile, one that was obviously meant to cheer her up. "Smells amazing, Pen. Could I have one?"
She wanted to joke around, to banter playfully-hell, all she wanted to do was laugh . But she didn't have the energy, didn't have the time, because all she could think of was Emily and how much it hurt that she was gone.
"Go ahead," she said, voice monotone. He smiled but it was sad, sad that he couldn't help her, sad that he couldn't break her free of grief's cruel grasp. As he ate, she couldn't help but think of all the memories, all the years the team had spent together. For so long, it had been just them: Spencer, Derek, Hotch, Rossi, J.J, and Emily, and she had been happy with that, had been happy with their little group and all the experiences and memories they made along the way.
Then J.J left. At the time, it had felt as if her heart was being torn out, had felt like she was saying goodbye to an ocean's worth of memories and jokes and good times. But they could still talk to J.J, could still reach out and meet up for a pasta night at Rossi's or a Saturday shopping trip at the mall. She had lost all of that with Emily, had lost so many hours of happiness and smiles and she needed her back, needed to see her again.
"Are you okay?"
She blinked, startled to find herself staring at Kevin's concerned face. She wasn't even able to move as he approached, wrapping her in a nearly crushing hug, and she could feel herself melting into the embrace.
In an hour, she would have to show up to work to see Emily's desk empty.
In an hour, she would have to direct the team through a new case while trying her best to ignore the unoccupied seat at the conference table.
In an hour, she would be forced to accept the fact that one of her best friends was gone, that one of her best friends had been taken away from her and there was nothing she could do to reverse it.
But for now, she let herself be consumed by Kevin's loving hold, let herself close her eyes and sob into his shoulder as he held her tight.
When she arrived at work, she couldn't help but stop at Emily's photo. It was framed on the wall alongside all the other lost agents, all the other human beings who had been let go too early.
"Penelope, you gotta stop staring at her." It was Morgan, his usual playfulness now consumed with solemnity. He sounded calm-too calm, especially considering he was the last one who had been with Emily, the last one to hold her hand and speak with her. "Prentiss wouldn't want us to sulk. You know that."
She looked up at him, trying her best just not to cry. He was staring back at her and he looked so worried, looked like he was trying so hard to understand, but he never would. Not the way J.J and Emily did. "I'm not sulking. I'm surrounded by testosterone now." Half of it was a joke but half of it wasn't-she missed both of them so much, missed being not only friends but a family, missed being all together.
He said nothing for a moment, gazing sadly at Emily's portrait. The only part of her left in Quantico. He broke the silence, "She would also want us to embrace Seaver."
Ashley. It wasn't that Penelope had anything against her-they just didn't really have that many chances to get close. The new recruit was always so busy with paperwork or the case or training and it had never really given any of them time to bond with her.
Still, she felt slightly offended that Derek would imply that she wasn't trying to accept Ashley. She presented the box of cupcakes, presenting it not only as proof that she was trying to reach out to the newcomer but also proof that she wasn't spending all her time 'sulking'. And she wasn't because that was not what Penelope Garcia did, wasting away with grief and mourning. She was the happy one, the one that tried to ignore the horrible parts of their job, the one that tried to outshine all the darkness and horror and nightmares with her bright colors and jokes and by no means did she waste time wasting away in her own sadness. She wanted to tell him all of this, wanted to tell him to take all of this weird pity/sympathy/over concern and shove it, but instead she just said, "I baked."
"Congratulations…gradua?" he asked, brow furrowed.
"Kevin ate the 't'," she said. "and the 'e'."
"Come on, you," he said, urging her into the office and it felt normal . It felt normal to walk in with her best friend, talking together about whatever random shit came to mind, and it felt the most normal as she had felt throughout this entire sulky, grieving time. "Listen, I got an idea. Why don't you and I eat the 'u' and the 'a' and that way it would say 'Congratulations, grad'?"
She smiled, trying her best to be happy because she did know, did know that Emily wouldn't have wanted them to mope around, did know that it was best to keep her head up high and keep moving before she started drowning. "And here I always imagined you feeding me strawberries."
He laughed and they both walked in with smiles on their faces, both walking in trying to ignore the crushing sorrow that only grew as they passed by Emily's desolate seat at the bullpen.
As she headed down to her lair, she tried to ignore it. She tried to ignore the way her heart throbbed and the way it was hard to swallow, tried to ignore the anguish festering beneath her skin and infecting her veins. She tried to ignore it, tried to push it down, because she didn't want to grieve, didn't want to address this ugly mass of emotions beginning to form.
But god, it hurt. It hurt so, so much and she had no idea what she was going to do about it, what she could do about it.
As the minutes passed by, she collected all the information for their new case, trying her best to consume herself in making the file and printing and preparing her presentation. If it took a little longer than usual because she needed to gather her bearings, if it took al little longer than usual because she wasn't sure how long she could stand staring at Emily's unfilled spot at the office, then that was only for her to know.
When she emerged from her safe room of computers and keyboards, she was alarmed to find that neither Hotch or Spencer had arrived yet. She turned to Morgan, bewildered. "Where are they?"
He shrugged, clearly troubled and just trying to hide it, but those two were the most routine-following out of the entire team. There was no way that both of them would be missing at the same time unless something was wrong.
She whipped out her phone, pulling up all her text messages with Bossman. Admittedly, it was mostly her trying to escape from work early or make him meet up with the rest of the team outside of work. She typed: Where r you? Are you w Spencer?
A second. Two. And then, those beloved three dots showed up and she nearly cried with relief. It was short-lived when his reply finally sent: Yes. Took him from police station early this morning. Won't be at work.
"Oh my god," she said aloud.
"What?" Derek asked, alarmed. "What happened? Are they okay? Penelope, what's going on ?"
"I…" she swallowed thickly, quickly texting: Police station? Is he ok? "I don't know. I don't know, I-I mean, Hotch is fine. He's okay, I think."
"What about Reid?" he asked just as Hotch replied: Cop found him in alley. Relapsed.
Her breath hitched in her throat. No. No, he had been doing so well, had been clean for so long. There was no way that he would give it all up, no way that he would disregard all his agonizing work to maintain his sobriety. This couldn't be happening, shouldn't be happening, because he was Dr. Spencer Reid and he was stronger than all of them and she couldn't stand the thought of him being in so much pain, so much anguish.
"Penelope, tell me what's going on," Derek said firmly and it was an order rather than a request.
She inhaled shakily, not even able to respond with a witty remark or playful joke. "He…he relapsed. He relapsed , Derek."
"Wha…no. No. No, that can't—he's been doing good. He's been doing good, Pen, he has ."
"I know," she said and her voice was barely a whisper because she couldn't handle this, couldn't handle J.J and Emily and now Spencer. Her phone dinged again. Tell everyone to go home. Mandatory leave. See you tomorrow.
She sagged in her seat, burying her face in her hands. What were they going to do?