Emily felt like complete shit, her arms were stinging underneath her shirt and she could feel the scabs catching the on the seams. Hearing the door behind her close, she mustered up the energy to plaster a smile on her face and prepared for the impending bathroom / colleague small talk routine.

"Right Emily, cut the act. What's going on?"

Shit, she wasn't expecting JJ, and she wasn't expecting that.

"What do you mean, nothings going on"

Playing dumb and overly positive was her go to. After all, JJ didn't know, did she?

"Emily. Last night. We need to talk about what happened. Smashing that glass wasn't clumsiness. Since when is Emily Prentiss clumsy? Your apartment, let's face it, is a mess. Since when do you leave your apartment untidy when you go on a case? Your house plants are gone; you have no pictures on your walls; your apartment has none of you in it and I can assume it's been like that since you came back."

Well, Emily didn't expect that, she knew they had noticed something but she didn't think JJ would actually bring it up. She hates to admit it but it's kind of thrown her for a loop.

"JJ, please, can we not? I was away for a while and I just haven't had a chance to unpack properly. And the glass, it was an accident, grabbed it too tightly. Things happen and sometimes they don't mean anything."

"I know what's going on."

Shit.

"You almost died Emily. You fought off an attack from someone you were once close to, and then forced in to hiding. Your family and friends thought you were dead. Fuck you have a grave! That alone is enough to mess with anyone's head!"

"My heads just fine, thank you very much," Emily replied with a smirk and a small laugh.

"Emily, this is serious, I'm worried about you"

As she was about to reply, JJ reached and put her hand on her arm to give it a comforting squeeze and before she could stop herself, she hissed in pain and pulled her arm away.

"What's wrong? Emily what happened, what's wrong with your arm. Let me see. I can help."

Biting the inside of her cheek, Emily knew she needed to shut this conversation down. Fast. She knew JJ was worried about her drinking, that was an acceptable problem, she'd push that.

"Jayj, look I don't want to talk about what I went through. I'm fine, I had a hard time but it's over now. I'm home and I just want to move on. Ok, so I like to have a drink now after work but that's it. That's all. I'm fine"

"Your arm Emily. What's wrong with your arm?"

"I cut my hand last night, remember. On the glass. Some of the glass caught my arm. You grazed it there, that's all. It's fine. Listen, I've got to go, I'll speak to you later ok?"

Leaving no room for a reply, Emily pushed past her to exit the bathroom.

JJ was bewildered by the whole conversation, she had just wanted to make Emily see that maybe she wasn't ok. That maybe she was drinking more than normal. And she wanted her to know that her and Penelope are here for her. But now, now she realised it was worse than she thought.

Walking back into the bullpen JJ noticed Emily heading to the elevator with her jacket on. Glancing up she saw Hotch on the walkway and she shot him a concerned look.

"Emily is unwell and heading home for the day since we've not got a case and we've been powering through paperwork all day."

JJ heard Morgan give an unimpressed laugh and turned to face him only to catch him rolling his eyes and shaking his head. What was his fucking problem, JJ thought.

Emily hadn't even made it to her car before she felt the tears pooling in her eyes and her hand began scratching at her arms.

Slamming the car door as she got into the driver seat, and pushed both her sleeves up to reveal the copious amount of cuts littering her forearms made in her panicked and drunken haze. She hated them. Hated that she couldn't control this. Hated that Doyle did this to her. Hated that she got herself into this mess. Hated that her friends hated her. Hated that she had to do what she did. But most importantly, she hated herself, hated that she didn't just die.

Right now all she wanted to do was bleed. Dragging her nails down her forearms, she caught each scab and roughly pulled them off. Skin pulling against the motion as they were ripped again. They had only just formed, still pink, sore, and swollen around the edges.

The moment she felt the sting of cool air hit her open cuts calmed her brain and she couldn't help but close her eyes and smile as she felt the first beads of blood begin to pool.

Pulling her sleeves down once more, content at the sting of fabric against open skin, she switched on the ignition and pulled away. Heading to the liquor store before going home.