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ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
SPOILERS: 2x15 Revelations
Bedroom
By gilligankane
She's desperate for something tangible; something that she can hold in her hands, sift through her fingers; something she can know is real.
She's anxious for something worth fighting for.
She thought that something was JJ: sweet, innocent, incapable of intentional harm, and hopeful. JJ seemed like her something. JJ seemed like her reason to get up in the morning, to put away the bad guys day in and day out, to try and suppress the nightmares she got when she closed her eyes.
But JJ isn't what she seems to be. Morgan had quoted Kurt Vonnegut once, told her: "You are who you pretend to be, so be careful who you pretend to be."
JJ pretends to be caring and charming and optimistic and it's dangerous for Emily, not for JJ. It's Emily who has to be careful about who JJ pretends to be, because it's Emily who gets caught up in the act, caught inside the torrent of mishap in JJ's heart.
It's Emily who gets caught between who JJ is and who JJ wants to be, and both of them struggle with it in their own way.
JJ ignores it; ignores the feeling of losing herself to an unstoppable force.
Emily latches onto it, and in the process of doing so, latches onto JJ, holding her close, holding her safe, one night at a time, only when Emily feels like she's going to break if she can't hold onto the blonde.
Ever since Tobias Henkel, there are nights where Emily still sees herself running into the barn, gun drawn, desperately searching for human life, not really caring about the dogs on the ground, shot through and through. She sees herself come face to face with the barrel of an FBI issued piece and frantically hopes that it's not Henkel holding the gun. She sees JJ, rattled and confused and eyes full of despair.
She sees JJ fasten onto her words, the strength in her voice, the calm. Emily is the calm before the storm.
Its nights like these where needs to feel JJ in her arms. Its nights like these where she needs to know that JJ is safe and sound and protected until the morning, when the monsters are only people hiding behind their failures.
Tonight, even if she wants something real, she's not going to push it. JJ's breaking and Emily is aware of how fragile she is, so she knocks on the door and waits.
"What?" JJ is leaning against the door frame, one hit jutted out, giving her shadow a larger shape, like someone or someone is standing over her, watching her every move.
"I just wanted to see how you were." Emily's voice is small, so unusual for big, bad Emily Prentiss. They stand in a stalemate, each waiting for the other to move. When neither of them do, it's Emily who turns to go first.
It's JJ who reaches forward and grasps Emily's arms, pulls inside and clutches at her desperately.
Emily lies in bed later and pulls apart their "relationship," grimacing. She'll never make it being with JJ.
She'll never make it on her own either.
Next to her, JJ tosses and turns, twists and bends, fighting off demons and dogs and realities of hell. Emily lays still, hands precariously lopped around JJ's waist, not being able to do anything but keep JJ in her arms.
She has her own demons, they all do. But for JJ, it's worse.
JJ doesn't just see what's there in front of them: the glossy 8x11's, the disfigured bodies, the sick bastards who killed innocent people.
JJ gets to see the people who could have been: could have been killed, could have been terrorized, could have been saved.
JJ had possibilities, and Emily had actualities.
Emily has always been good at saying the right thing, bringing JJ back together, whether she said it with her hands, her eyes, her mouth.
Except tonight, Emily doesn't know what to say. Something's different, and JJ isn't moving in her arms anymore. Instead, crystal blue eyes are boring a hole in her head, but Emily can't face the blonde, because she knows what's going to happen next.
JJ is leaving in the morning. The brunette saw the bags before her back hit the soft pads of JJ's bed. JJ's barely hanging on and Emily isn't enough to hold onto anymore.
She's desperate for something tangible; something that she can hold in her hands, sift through her fingers; something she can know is real.
She's anxious for something worth fighting for.
She'll never make it being with JJ.
She'll never make it on her own either.
The End