The tension between Emily and Derek had been palpable for weeks, but neither of them knew exactly how to navigate the fragile ground they now stood on. Emily had tried to give him space after the phone call with Ellouise—an unspoken acknowledgment that he was still figuring things out, still learning how to balance his role as a father with the demands of the BAU. But that wasn't the only thing Derek was struggling with.
For the first time in years, Emily was unsure where she stood with him. They'd been close—too close at times—and then, without warning, the walls between them had been built up, brick by brick.
The case had kept them busy, their late nights at the office becoming the new normal. Tonight, however, things were different. Emily had called Derek late in the evening, needing to discuss a lead they'd picked up during an investigation. When he arrived at her apartment, the faint glow of the hallway light illuminated her silhouette through the cracked door.
She opened it, her tired eyes softening as they locked on his. "I wasn't sure if you were coming."
Derek smiled, though the gesture didn't reach his eyes. "Of course I am. I know how this case gets in your head. You're thinking about it constantly, just like me."
Emily stepped aside to let him in. She didn't say anything, just led him toward the kitchen, where she had a pot of coffee brewing.
"I know it's late," she started, "but I just—" She paused, as if the words had caught in her throat. Derek could tell that there was more weighing on her than just the case.
She set two mugs down on the counter, her hands trembling slightly as she did. Derek noticed. His heart shifted with concern. "You okay?" he asked gently.
Emily looked up at him, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know, Derek. I've been trying to convince myself that we're fine, that things are good between us… but I think I've been lying to myself."
Derek's chest tightened, but he said nothing.
"You've been distant, not just with me, but with everything," she continued, looking away from him as if she couldn't bear to see the emotions that might show in his face. "I get it. I really do. You're scared. And I'm scared too. But I can't keep pretending that we're fine. I can't keep pretending that we don't need to talk about us."
Derek's throat constricted as he stepped closer, feeling a wave of guilt hit him. He'd been avoiding the conversation, but there was no avoiding it now.
"I'm scared too, Em," he admitted, his voice low. "I thought I could handle everything—Ellie, the job, trying to be a good father, trying to be a good agent—but I don't know how to make sense of all this. How to make sense of you."
Emily turned to face him, and there was something different in her eyes now, something raw. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, I've been trying to figure out if I even deserve you after everything that happened," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "You left. You just disappeared. And I spent years hating myself for not being able to find you. And now you're back… and I don't know what that means for us."
A silence fell between them, thick with the weight of everything unspoken. Emily stepped closer, her hand trembling as it reached for his. "You deserve more than you think. I just... I couldn't keep living a lie. I didn't want you or anyone to get hurt, especially you. And when I left, I knew it was the only way I could protect you."
Derek swallowed hard, his eyes searching hers. "I never stopped loving you, Em."
Her chest tightened at his words. "I never stopped loving you, either."
The moment was too much. Too heavy. They both reached for each other simultaneously, their lips crashing together in an intense, pent-up kiss that spoke of lost years, confusion, and the ache they both carried deep inside.
Weeks later, the nightmare that had been hovering over their lives came to an end. Giovani Fabbri, the international gang leader who had orchestrated chaos and terror, was finally behind bars. Clyde's meticulous tracking and the BAU's relentless dedication had led to a coordinated operation that dismantled Fabbri's network. The danger was over, and the weight of fear that had gripped Emily and Derek's lives was finally lifted.
The arrest of Fabbri had been a carefully orchestrated effort. Clyde had worked tirelessly to pinpoint Fabbri's exact location, sifting through layers of encrypted communications and tracing financial transactions across international borders. The breakthrough came when the team intercepted a coded message indicating a meeting at an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city.
Clyde and Hotch headed the operation, combining their strategic expertise and leadership to ensure everything went smoothly. Emily and Derek, alongside the BAU team, prepared for the operation with precision. They coordinated with local law enforcement and international agencies, ensuring every possible exit was covered. As night fell, the team moved in, armed and ready.
Hotch led the tactical briefing, his calm and authoritative voice instilling confidence in the team. "We've got one shot at this," he said. "Let's make it count. No mistakes, no unnecessary risks."
Derek was part of the entry team, his heart pounding as they breached the warehouse doors. Inside, Fabbri and his closest associates were caught off guard. The gang leader tried to escape through a hidden passage, but Clyde had anticipated the move and stationed agents to intercept him. It was a tense moment when Fabbri drew a weapon, but Hotch's calm command and the team's swift response ensured no one was hurt.
As Fabbri was being led out in handcuffs, he passed by Emily, his dark eyes narrowing as he sneered, "Enjoy your moment of victory, Agent Prentiss. You're just a pawn in a game you can't even comprehend. This isn't over."
Emily didn't flinch. She stepped closer, her gaze sharp and unyielding. "Oh, it's over, Fabbri. And for the record, pawns can take down kings. Enjoy the view from your cell."
Her words struck a nerve, and Fabbri's smirk faltered. The agents escorting him pulled him along, but Emily's resolute stance remained etched in his mind as his final memory of freedom.
Emily and Derek found themselves standing on Derek's front porch, watching Ellouise chase fireflies in the yard. Her laughter rang out in the crisp evening air, a sound that filled Derek's heart with a peace he hadn't felt in months.
"It's finally over," Derek said quietly, his gaze fixed on his daughter.
Emily nodded, leaning against the porch railing. "She's safe. We all are. You can finally breathe again."
Derek turned to her, his expression softening. "We can finally breathe again. You were right about Clyde and his team. They were the safety net we needed. But you… you've been my anchor through all of this."
Emily's eyes glistened with emotion as she reached for his hand. "We've anchored each other, Derek. And now we have a chance to rebuild—all of us."
He gave her hand a squeeze before pulling her into a gentle embrace. "Thank you for not giving up on me, on us."
Emily smiled against his chest. "Thank you for letting me in again."
As the evening deepened, Derek, Emily, and Ellouise sat together on the porch, watching the stars come out. For the first time in what felt like forever, they were a family, whole and safe, ready to face the future together.
Once inside, Derek put his daughter to bed and went straight to the bedroom he now shares with Emily where she welcomed him with a hungry kiss. Derek didn't pull away. He couldn't. His lips moved urgently against hers, his hands threading into her hair as if they were trying to piece together something broken. Emily melted into the kiss, her hands slipping under his jacket, pulling him closer. There were no more words. Only actions, only the need to reconnect, to rebuild the bridge that had once seemed unbreakable.
They stumbled back toward the couch, breaking the kiss just long enough for Derek to shed his jacket. Emily did the same, her hands lingering on his chest, fingertips tracing the hard planes of his body. She had missed this—missed him in ways she couldn't even explain.
Derek's hands were on her, guiding her gently down onto the couch. He paused, looking at her, his eyes searching for any sign of hesitation.
Emily met his gaze, her breath shallow as she whispered, "I love you, Derek."
Her words sent a surge of heat through him. Slowly, deliberately, he lowered his lips to hers again, and this time, there was nothing tentative about it. No more walls, no more hesitation. Their kisses were urgent, hungry, as if they were trying to make up for lost time.
"I love you, too, Princess." He said in between kisses.
His hands roamed over her body, exploring every inch of her, as if they were both reacquainting themselves with something familiar but forgotten. Emily let out a soft moan as he pressed against her, his body fitting against hers perfectly, as if no time had passed at all.
She slid her hands under his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. Derek groaned against her lips, his hands working to undress her as well, his movements slow but deliberate. There was no rush. Tonight, it wasn't about the physical—it was about the connection.
Their bodies finally aligned as they came together in a powerful, familiar union. They made love slowly, almost reverently, as if they were both savoring the moment they'd been denied for so long. When it was over, Emily lay in his arms, her head resting on his chest.