CHAPTER 86
WHY AM I THAT WAY?
JJ walked in the bullpen, looking like a mess in the morning after having slept in the bed, on her own. Her hair was tied in a loose pony tail, she had not bothered applying any sort of make-up that day and the bags under her eyes looked worse than even Emily's.
"JJ…" Reid hurried to catch up with her, on her way to her office.
"I'm fine!" She stated coldly, like she was trying to convince herself of it.
"But…JJ…" He said, in that sweet voice of his, a voice full of worry for his best friend.
"I'M FINE!" JJ said rudely before slamming the door in his face.
Every now and then JJ would have her moments when she'd close herself inside of her shell and she won't let anyone in. Not even Spencer. Especially not him.
"Reid, you okay, man?" Luke asked him, seeing him walk back to his desk, in a daze.
"I'm not sure. Is 'okay' quantifiable?" He replied without slowing his pace.
Luke watched him walk by, like a ghost.
"Is the BAU cursed or something?" Tara commented.
She had been enjoying her second cup of coffee, quietly reading the newspaper, when this scene just unfolded in front of her eyes.
"It sure looks this way." Luke shrugged and refilled his own coffee, making sure he would have enough energy to face a day that was starting like that.
"Hi, I'm, uh, Prentiss. Emily. Uh. Hi." She said weakly, knocking on a door and entering slowly.
"Hello, Agent Prentiss. It's been a while. Come on in, take a seat, make yourself comfortable." A woman, older than Emily, welcomed her warmly.
Emily tugged on her pants twice and licked her lips before she took a step. She wasn't sure how to do this. She had been in that office many times before, but it was always for work, with minor personal issues to discuss. This time it was quite the opposite and she was not a fan of change.
"Would you like some-…" The woman started off, only to be interrupted by Emily right away.
"I'd like some peace. And quiet. And maybe a life that is not so exquisitely complicated." Emily stated. "Or Tequila, that would be fine too."
"I was, uh, going to offer water or tea, but…okay…" The woman played with her nails, which had always been a tell for Emily – she was making her nervous. It had to be the other way around, instead.
"Dr. Allen, I appreciate you taking time to squeeze me into your schedule and I apologize in advance if I come off weird, and I mean, even more weird than my usual weird. I'm just not sure how to…" Emily trailed off. She wasn't even sure what she was unsure about.
"Agent Prentiss…"
"Emily. Please." She insisted. Being called Agent Prentiss was just putting useless additional pressure on her.
"Emily, in your line of work, it is absolutely normal to feel confused sometimes. You should know by now that we don't get all the answers we want in life and we have to learn how to deal with that."
"I'm okay with not getting my answers. What I'm not okay with is the gruesome amount of questions I've accumulated recently."
The woman laughed. She had been a therapist for many, many years, yet never had she ever heard someone speak with the irony Emily oozed. She remembered her first sessions with her, years ago, when she was new at the BAU. Her old patient file was stored somewhere and she specifically remembered making bullet points about this woman. Stubborn. Opinionated. Focused. Hard working. Those, and many more, were the words she had found suitable. Now, years later, she was dealing with an elder, more mature and much more powerful woman, yet, she could still check all the boxes.
She had been with Emily after the Doyle case blew up in her face. That woman had done wonders for Emily when she came back from the dead. It had been one of the hardest, if not the hardest moment in Emily's life and along with the support of her friends, she also owed a lot to this woman.
Then, one day, she had mysteriously stopped making appointments. Dr. Martha Allen had done her research and she knew that Emily was very much still operative at the FBI, which only meant that she was in some sort of denial about something. And that only meant that one day she would come knocking on her door, stuttering, like she had just done a minute ago.
"Mind letting me hear some of those questions?" Martha asked, wondering if this new territory, one that sounded very personal, would make Emily comfortable enough to share.
It did not.
It made Emily sigh and blush and she was at the loss of words. But Martha gave her enough time to gather her thoughts before she'd have the courage to speak.
"Why am I that way?" Emily shot the first question, one she considered as the most important of them all.
"Why do I hurt people?" She then continued.
"Why do I push them away?"
"Why do I always leave?"
"What is wrong with me?"
Her tongue ran over her lips, to wet them, as they felt incredibly dry, unlike her eyes.
"Why do they love me anyway?"
Martha opened her mouth, but decided to stay quiet and let Emily pour it all out.
"Why am I the reason they continuously sacrifice their own happiness, for me?"
She was thinking about JJ and how lately she had basically been living, just to make Emily laugh. Nothing else mattered. JJ had made a fool out of herself in public too many times. She was not an airhead. She hated being perceived as one. Being a young, beautiful and blonde female at the FBI meant that she had to work five times harder than anyone else, if she wanted to be taken seriously. And she did just that, only for it to come time to scratch all of her efforts and to play a clown, for someone else's happiness.
Emily appreciated that. But it hurt her, because she knew what this act was doing to JJ's ego.
While Emily thought about all of that, Martha decided to speak up.
"So, just to be clear, this has nothing to do with work?" She asked with caution. Being one of the FBI's official therapists, she had to know if she was dealing with work issues or private issues.
"No…" Emily rolled her eyes. "Maybe a little bit, yes. I mean, it is because of work that I have all these questions in my head right now, but it is not because of work that I'm so confused about everything."
"That made perfect sense to me before I tried to put it in words." Emily commented, feeling like she hadn't been eloquent enough.
"No, it makes perfect sense to me, too." Martha smiled.
Emily allowed herself to observe that smile. It was not too wide, yet, not too shallow. It was contained, small, but genuine. Emily had tried other therapists over the year, but none of them were as genuine as Martha. That woman had a certain warmth to her and Emily trusted her with things she had never said out loud, to anyone else.
"I like you, too, Emily." Martha said, out of the blue.
"Huh?" Emily groaned. She was just thinking that, but she never said it out loud, so where did Martha's sudden outburst come from?
"Well, I think the profiler just got profiled by her therapist." Martha let out a small laugh, once again, a genuine one.
"See? This is why I like you. God, I came here in a ball of mess and nerves. You are so incredibly nice and you make people feel good. This is what I like about you. And you are so smart." Emily was usually reserved with her compliments, but the current situation called for an exception.
Martha thought about Emily's words for a second before she hesitantly asked her a question.
"Do I remind you of her, in that way?"
Emily suddenly froze. She did not expect that.
"Emily, I remind you that whatever you say here, stays here, between you and me. And I can tell that you are still having issues with that…"
"I'm working on those issues. I need to do this on my own." Emily eyed the water dispenser, suddenly feeling thirsty.
Why was this woman bringing that thing back up, so casually? Emily had barely even told her about that, years ago, and she thought Martha didn't even remember. It was kind of a low blow, one that Emily was not sure how to handle.
Martha handed her a clean glass and she helped herself to a full glass of fresh water.
"I have one more question for you, Emily."
She looked up at the woman, as if she was giving her permission to ask.
"Why are you here today?"
"Because Rossi said-…" Emily cut herself off. She had started replying, honestly, at that, but her words only served to make her realize something she wasn't seeing herself.
"Oh." She added.
Martha did not speak.
"I mean, yes, I understand that it is not ideal to be here because someone else told me to be here." Emily shrugged. "And I know this will sound like a lame excuse, but I am doing this for me. I'm here because I want to be here. I'm here because I want you to tell me that it is normal that I feel this way…"
Martha pursed her lips.
"You're not going to tell me that, are you?" Emily sighed.
She knew it was childish to hope to hear an ideal version, a perfect explanation.
"Not even close." Martha shook her head.
"I have one more trouble. Last month my team worked a case that went horribly wrong. Everyone keeps saying that I shouldn't blame myself for what happened and I don't want to get into the gruesome details, but our victim…" Emily sucked in a breath. Re-living this situation was giving her anxiety. "I had had, I swear she was safe, I was holding her one second and then…"
Martha could already figure out what had happened.
"Look, Emily…what happened to you last month, it has happened many times, to other Agents. Each one deals with it differently. So, it's not about the situation, it's not about what happened. It's about what is making you draw a direct parallel between that case and something that happened in your personal life. You might not even be aware of it, but something is there. Something happened. You might have repressed it to the point where you don't even have the memory of it anymore, but it happened, and you need to work through that, if you want to keep your job. Because, as much as I like you, I have to put it in your file if I deem you unstable for the job, you understand that, right?"
"Yes, I do." Emily nodded.
Going to an FBI therapist was risky. Agents were free to talk about anything, but they never knew if by saying something, they were doing themselves harm. At the very least, they might get taken off the field or off active duty, for a while.
"I know exactly what I'm comparing it to. And I just can't shake it. I tried repressing the memory and it just blew up in my face. It's like…like I can see it everywhere. Like it's staring me in the eyes and telling me I'm not good enough. Like something I can't change, no matter what I do." Emily was clearly confused. She spoke about a situation, then a thing and then it sounded awfully much like she was talking about a person. Which one was it? Or was it all of the above?
"It's a good thing you know that. You need to figure out why that case reminded you of this thing. And then you need to find the differences. Only then would you be able to get the image of that girl off your mind, as harsh as it sounds, but you need to shake it off and move on."
"That's exactly what Rossi said." Emily said with a deep sigh.
"He's a smart man." Martha had known David for many years now. She had, occasionally, been helping him with some therapy sessions, but she had also become a friend of his, along the way. They had attended numerous psychology conventions together.
Emily spent the next few minutes with her head buried in her hands, trying to make sense of it all.
"I've lost sleep because of this. And the more I think about it, the more I don't understand it. She died. And I let her die. I watched her die and I couldn't do anything to save her." Emily finally spoke.
"It was her choice." Martha reminded her.
She wouldn't admit it out loud, but someone else from Emily's team had already seeked help from her, when it came to this specific case. Martha knew all the details, including the reason why that girl, their victim, had wound up dead.
"Yes, but she was my responsibility!" Emily countered quickly.
At that moment, Martha saw a protective side of Emily - a soft, yet fierce side, almost…mother-like.
"No, she was not. The man you put in jail was your responsibility. You caught him, you fought him, you risked your life to make sure he would never hurt another person. This is your responsibility. And you did everything by the book. Emily, you have been cleared for duty. Nobody is blaming you for what happened after that."
"Oh yeah? People whisper when I walk down the main hallway. I know people think I'm an idiot now and that's okay, because I firmly believe in the same thing. However, it bothers the crap out of me when people start targeting my team, for something none of us could have predicted or prevented!" In her small rant, Emily did not even realize it, but this was the first time she subconsciously admitted something.
"Like you said, none of you could have prevented it, including you!" Martha smirked, calling Emily out on that slip.
Apparently, she was blaming herself, because it helped her conscious but subconsciously, Emily Prentiss knew this was not her fault.
"And those people, do they even know the specifics of your case? Or did they just hear about the outcome?"
"No. Not many people know what actually happened in there. The official information is that the girl died, but the circumstances surrounding her death are not disclosed to just anyone. Only high clearance personnel, of course, since they had to investigate and clear me out."
"Is it possible that this case triggered you and you are now transferring old, unresolved issues, onto it?"
"Definitely." Emily had basically already confirmed that, a few minutes ago.
"Emily, we are dancing around the same thing." Martha finally said it.
She had spent half an hour now, trying to make Emily say it herself. No matter how Martha changed the words and tried to put it in Emily's head, it was just not coming out of Emily's mouth. The first step to healing would be pouring it all out. All Emily did was hint at the existence of a mysterious other reason, without elaborating on it, no matter how many chances Martha had created for her.
"I'm going to have to cut this short. I'm confusing you even more. You did well to follow Rossi's advice and go talk to someone, but I'm afraid I'm not that one. You do not trust me. I don't think you are ever going to be completely honest and open with me, at least not about that thing." Martha said politely, so that it wouldn't look like she had randomly decided to kick Emily out.
Emily shrugged. The woman was right – despite Emily's good intentions, this talk was going nowhere and needed to be cut short.
Angie grinned at her own reflection in the mirror early in the morning after she had received her care package. She was eager to try out some of the things she had so graciously been given by someone she so fiercely tried to cut out of her life.
Her fingers fumbled with a package before its contents spilled out a bit, as she finally ripped it open.
"Oh my God, it's pink!" She squealed quietly, as to not wake Bryan up.
It wasn't even six o'clock in the morning, but she had been way too impatient to wait to try this out after classes. It had to be done as soon as possible, even if it meant less sleep for her. At least now she had the bathroom all to herself.
She applied a thick, even layer of the gooey face mask and she started making funny faces in the mirror. It almost made her feel like she was thirteen again. It had been the moment when she had discovered face masks and she had developed a mild obsession with those. In reality, she had been curious since the age of ten, but something had held her back until thirteen when that interest peeked again.
She remembered her teenage night time routine with someone else – they would sit on the couch, with colorful faces and a cup of hot chocolate. It had been the time when a lot of things had changed in her life, yet again. But those were great changes, possibly the best changes she had ever experienced.
She placed the box on the sink and looked for one other thing – the face cream. There was a set of day cream and night cream, the expensive ones, super moisturizing. She remembered when she had first tried those out, at fourteen. She had been eyeing those cute little cream packages for a year, in the bathroom. She had gathered courage for weeks, before asking if she could try that cream. It wasn't for her skin at such a young age, but she had always been impatient to grow up, plus, she really loved the way that cream smelled. And now that she was somewhat grown up, she finally owned a set of her own.
The day cream was now waiting to be applied when her face mask would be rinsed off after the fifteen minutes that it required to stay on. Angie grabbed a few other things from the box and set them on the little hanging shelf inside the shower cabin - a set of shampoo and conditioner that smelled like wild berries, but best of all – they were the exact type of product for her hair type; and a caramel scented shower gel. Then she placed the coconut shimmer body lotion on the counter over the sink. This was great, she was now surrounded by all the products that reminded her of…
The second she thought of that person, she frowned. Mentally, she went over the things the person had written in that note, because she was nerdy enough to have memorized it. It was bittersweet. More bitter, if she had to be honest. Everything about this situation was making her feel even more confused and, weirdly, more alone.
And it wasn't like she was enjoying this face mask, either. Yes, it was nice and it would surely help her skin feel better, but it wasn't fun doing it on her own. It was actually kind of depressing.
Looking over at all the things she had received in the box, she once again got the confirmation that yes, she had a somewhat luxurious taste for clothes and beauty products, and yes, she appreciated it when gifted such items, but no, they didn't mean a thing to her when all she had to pair them with was her own company. It sucked.
Then she noticed a small box that she hadn't seen the day before. Opening it, she sucked in a breath, trying to steady her emotions. She found a dainty ring inside, so tiny that it would only fit a child's finger. She remembered that ring. Had this other person kept it, all these years? Her lower lip quivered, remembering the promise, the vow she had taken when she had been given this ring. To that day, she stayed true to her words - she wanted nothing more out of life, but an 'Always & Forever', with that person by her side, despite the hurt, despite the betrayal, despite it all.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
"Ducksdragonfly" I'm glad you do :)! Yes, those memories are important to Angie (and to the story). Will only makes a brief appearance for this mini storyline for JJ, but I'm not his fan either. Always felt weird that JJ would get paired with him on TV, he always seemed uninterested). As for the letter: Hehe yeah, I wanted it to be a cute way of finding out, rather than JJ prying info out of Emily's mouth, because as we all know - Emily Prentiss won't speak about/admit to her troubles/worries/feelings...EVER! And the whole Richard thing confuses the crap out of her (because she has feelings for him) and also she feels ashamed because the "leaver" got "left" lol! I'm VERY tempted to insert more Richard/girl flashbacks, but I don't want them to confuse the readers, now that Angie just had a flashback of her own (with someone important), so I may wait a little for Richard's.
"rmpcmfan" Great, because there will be more flashbacks in the next chapters :)! I can't comment on WHO the girl with Richard is hehe. I can only confirm that he has not always been in her life, because of the job but also for other reasons. As for the girl's "mother", it's the one you'd least expect LOL! (One day I'll have lots of explaining to do, but it will all make perfect sense!)
"zhangxinna" Oh snap, girl...you really went hard on Will there, lol! I agree, I'm not his fan, I only needed to give JJ some distress in the story, for what will happen next. Will on TV never looked like he gave a -beep- about JJ and it disturbed me. He seemed nonchalant and their relationship seemed forced, which sucks, because I really like JJ. As for "more of this story", don't worry, it won't end anytime soon! I've uploaded HALF of the chapters that I've already written and I'm constantly writing more! I can confirm that the person who wrote this note to Angie has NO intimate/love connection to (or such interest in) her! And remember: names are like clothes - you wear them, but they don't define who you really are, underneath ;)!
"sweetkid45" Of course, I love this two-way feedback thing with my readers! And I'm the bubbliest lil' monster you'll ever meet lol! I really appreciate every person who takes their time to reviews and I love hearing everyone's theories as the story keeps going. I hope to keep hearing from you :)!
