These Endless Days, 7/?
Title: These Endless Days
Rating: R
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Universe: Creatures of the Night (Part Three)
Characters/Pairing: JJ/Hotch; Morgan/Prentiss
Genre: Supernatural/Drama
Summary: There’s a war coming.
Chapter Seven
Morgan’s hands grip the steering wheel tightly. He wants to be wrong. He really, really wants to be wrong. If he’s wrong, though, then he has absolutely no idea where Emily is. Maybe that’s better than the thought that’s running through his mind.
The thought that maybe…just maybe…she decided to return to the house of her mother. It seems ridiculous. More than that; it seems downright insane, but there are no other ideas that even begin to sound as possible as that one.
But then, he reminds himself, it’s not as though you actually know her that well at all. There are hundreds of places that she might be that you know absolutely nothing about.
As he drives through the city, the buildings start to thin out. The last time he - and the rest of the team - had visited the Prentiss clan, they’d almost died.
Really, it’s not a unique situation for them - near-death experiences come at least half a dozen times per year for FBI agents. If it’s not vampires, or sorcerers, or desperate humans trying to create robotic imitations of their lost love ones, it’s fairy assassins, which is a much scarier concept than most people would think. Fairies are small, and quiet, and can absolutely inject potassium chloride into your neck in the middle of the night without leaving a trace of physical evidence.
He pulls up to the gate, hesitating. This is a bad idea, his brain says, but then he sees Emily’s car parked inside the gate, and logic takes a backseat. With a deep breath, he opens the driver’s side window, and presses the intercom button.
‘Name?’
What the hell, he thinks. They’ll probably smell you anyway.
‘Derek Morgan,’ he says, a little hesitant. ‘I need…I want to see Emily.’
‘You want to see Emily?’ the voice asks, and the tone of incredulity does not go unnoticed. Last chance to back out, Derek.
‘I want to see Emily,’ he confirms. He’s almost surprised when the gate opens. He’d half been expecting to be murdered on the spot, or at the very least, turned away. This whole situation feels like the worst kind of weird possible. Just as a precaution, he decides to send a message to Garcia: @ Prentiss clan - Em’s car is here. If I don’t come back, you know what happened. He turns the phone off before he can receive the inevitable phone call asking him whether he’s gone completely insane.
He’s greeted at the door by Elizabeth Prentiss, and part of him wants nothing more than to empty his entire clip in her chest. Unfortunately, though, that’s the kind of behavior that would get him torn apart by the nest of live, angry vamps. It’s bad enough that he can’t shift or heal properly in the place.
‘Where is she?’ he demands.
‘Mr. Morgan. What a pleasure to see you again.’ There’s nothing in the woman’s voice that suggests the nature of their last encounter. Apparently, an unassuming tone is something that she’s been working on for a long time.
‘Cut the crap,’ he sneers. ‘Where is she? If you’ve hurt her, I swear to God…’
‘You would be dead before you could lift a finger,’ Elizabeth says, the change in her voice making Morgan’s blood run cold. He has no trouble believing that this woman could kill him without even touching him. Maybe that should have scared him.
The vampire matriarch steps backwards to let him inside. He gives her a look. ‘You think I’m going to fall for that?’
‘Emily is upstairs - here of her own free will. I did not coerce her, or bring her here under duress.’
‘You expect me to believe that? Two months ago, you were willing to kill us all, just to get her back.’
‘Wesley,’ Elizabeth says sharply, not letting Morgan’s eyes leave hers. ‘Please inform Emily that she has a visitor who will be joining her in her quarters momentarily.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘How do I know this isn’t a trap? How do I know you haven’t brainwashed her?’
‘You have my word that you will come to no harm under this roof. For now.’ The words sound almost sincere, but he’s willing to bet that sincerity is another faux expression that Elizabeth Prentiss has been working on for a long time. ‘With all due respect, Agent Morgan - and make no mistake, there is little due - I don’t particularly care what happens to you one way or another. But Emily does.’
She gestures towards the extravagant staircase. ‘Go upstairs. Make your peace with her, and then leave. I can only hold my people at bay for so long.’
…
Wesley’s declaration is annoyingly vague. “You have a visitor” could mean a lot of things, in a place like this. It could mean that someone’s coming to shove a stake through her heart. It could mean that her mother is coming to have a little chat. But it doesn’t. The moment he shuts the door, the smell - his wonderful, glorious, maddening smell - permeates her nostrils.
The knock comes moments later.
‘Go home, Derek,’ she says. ‘It’s not safe for you here.’
‘Please…I just want to talk.’
Emily hesitates. Opening the door and letting him in is perhaps the worst idea in the world, but she does it anyway. He’s still dressed in his work clothes, and the relieved look on his face when he sees that she’s unharmed almost breaks her heart in two.
‘You shouldn’t be here,’ she murmurs, but she doesn’t fight back when he steps past her, and shuts the door.
‘Emily, what the hell are you doing?’ The words should be angry, but they’re not. He lets his hand brush her cheek, and her whole body shivers.
‘I don’t know,’ she whispers. ‘I just…I need to be here.’
‘She’s forcing you to stay here?’ he asks, the fires of fury lighting in his eyes.
‘No!’ she says, quickly, and then, a lot softer, ‘No…I…I can’t explain it, Derek. But I need to be here. Not for her sake. For mine.’
‘What are you going to do, Emily? Play house with mommy? Go with her on one of her weekly killing sprees?’ That is the voice of the man who has grown to despise her kind. She can’t blame him, and yet she can’t shake the agonizing hurt she feels from hearing those words. As though he thinks that she’s as bad as her mother.
‘I’m sorry.’ He shakes his head. ‘I just need to know.’
She leans in and kisses him. It’s slow, soft. Gentle. Their foreheads rest together, and she whispers, ‘I’m here because I need to kill her.’ If he’s surprised at the words, she catches it with another kiss, one arm wrapping around his neck, the other moving to undo his shirt.
‘Emily,’ he breathes. She puts a finger to his lips.
‘Don’t,’ she says. ‘Don’t say no.’ There are so many more things she needs to tell him, but the words don’t come. She kisses him again, harder, and the fact that this house is where they’d shared their first moment does not go unnoticed. Maybe it’s not the romantic occasion, but chances are, it’s the last time they’ll ever be together.
She’s not sure why that upsets her so much.
After all, when you get to seven hundred, a two month relationship isn’t exactly commitment.
He’d shown up, though, which is more than a lot of people would have done.
She strips his shirt off, and lets her hands press against his chest. His heart beats erratically under her fingertips, and even without that tactile evidence, she can hear it pounding in her ears, so fast.
He takes her against the wall, rough, but intimate at the same time. Her dress is pooled at the floor around her feet, and she does not want him to leave. But he has to.
‘I can help you,’ he protests.
Emily shakes her head. ‘No. Not here. Not now. They’ll kill you without a second thought. You know what you have to do, Morgan.’
He gives her one last look, before walking out.
Emily waits until his smell has left the air before letting the first tear fall.
Rating: R
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Universe: Creatures of the Night (Part Three)
Characters/Pairing: JJ/Hotch; Morgan/Prentiss
Genre: Supernatural/Drama
Summary: There’s a war coming.
Chapter Seven
Morgan’s hands grip the steering wheel tightly. He wants to be wrong. He really, really wants to be wrong. If he’s wrong, though, then he has absolutely no idea where Emily is. Maybe that’s better than the thought that’s running through his mind.
The thought that maybe…just maybe…she decided to return to the house of her mother. It seems ridiculous. More than that; it seems downright insane, but there are no other ideas that even begin to sound as possible as that one.
But then, he reminds himself, it’s not as though you actually know her that well at all. There are hundreds of places that she might be that you know absolutely nothing about.
As he drives through the city, the buildings start to thin out. The last time he - and the rest of the team - had visited the Prentiss clan, they’d almost died.
Really, it’s not a unique situation for them - near-death experiences come at least half a dozen times per year for FBI agents. If it’s not vampires, or sorcerers, or desperate humans trying to create robotic imitations of their lost love ones, it’s fairy assassins, which is a much scarier concept than most people would think. Fairies are small, and quiet, and can absolutely inject potassium chloride into your neck in the middle of the night without leaving a trace of physical evidence.
He pulls up to the gate, hesitating. This is a bad idea, his brain says, but then he sees Emily’s car parked inside the gate, and logic takes a backseat. With a deep breath, he opens the driver’s side window, and presses the intercom button.
‘Name?’
What the hell, he thinks. They’ll probably smell you anyway.
‘Derek Morgan,’ he says, a little hesitant. ‘I need…I want to see Emily.’
‘You want to see Emily?’ the voice asks, and the tone of incredulity does not go unnoticed. Last chance to back out, Derek.
‘I want to see Emily,’ he confirms. He’s almost surprised when the gate opens. He’d half been expecting to be murdered on the spot, or at the very least, turned away. This whole situation feels like the worst kind of weird possible. Just as a precaution, he decides to send a message to Garcia: @ Prentiss clan - Em’s car is here. If I don’t come back, you know what happened. He turns the phone off before he can receive the inevitable phone call asking him whether he’s gone completely insane.
He’s greeted at the door by Elizabeth Prentiss, and part of him wants nothing more than to empty his entire clip in her chest. Unfortunately, though, that’s the kind of behavior that would get him torn apart by the nest of live, angry vamps. It’s bad enough that he can’t shift or heal properly in the place.
‘Where is she?’ he demands.
‘Mr. Morgan. What a pleasure to see you again.’ There’s nothing in the woman’s voice that suggests the nature of their last encounter. Apparently, an unassuming tone is something that she’s been working on for a long time.
‘Cut the crap,’ he sneers. ‘Where is she? If you’ve hurt her, I swear to God…’
‘You would be dead before you could lift a finger,’ Elizabeth says, the change in her voice making Morgan’s blood run cold. He has no trouble believing that this woman could kill him without even touching him. Maybe that should have scared him.
The vampire matriarch steps backwards to let him inside. He gives her a look. ‘You think I’m going to fall for that?’
‘Emily is upstairs - here of her own free will. I did not coerce her, or bring her here under duress.’
‘You expect me to believe that? Two months ago, you were willing to kill us all, just to get her back.’
‘Wesley,’ Elizabeth says sharply, not letting Morgan’s eyes leave hers. ‘Please inform Emily that she has a visitor who will be joining her in her quarters momentarily.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘How do I know this isn’t a trap? How do I know you haven’t brainwashed her?’
‘You have my word that you will come to no harm under this roof. For now.’ The words sound almost sincere, but he’s willing to bet that sincerity is another faux expression that Elizabeth Prentiss has been working on for a long time. ‘With all due respect, Agent Morgan - and make no mistake, there is little due - I don’t particularly care what happens to you one way or another. But Emily does.’
She gestures towards the extravagant staircase. ‘Go upstairs. Make your peace with her, and then leave. I can only hold my people at bay for so long.’
…
Wesley’s declaration is annoyingly vague. “You have a visitor” could mean a lot of things, in a place like this. It could mean that someone’s coming to shove a stake through her heart. It could mean that her mother is coming to have a little chat. But it doesn’t. The moment he shuts the door, the smell - his wonderful, glorious, maddening smell - permeates her nostrils.
The knock comes moments later.
‘Go home, Derek,’ she says. ‘It’s not safe for you here.’
‘Please…I just want to talk.’
Emily hesitates. Opening the door and letting him in is perhaps the worst idea in the world, but she does it anyway. He’s still dressed in his work clothes, and the relieved look on his face when he sees that she’s unharmed almost breaks her heart in two.
‘You shouldn’t be here,’ she murmurs, but she doesn’t fight back when he steps past her, and shuts the door.
‘Emily, what the hell are you doing?’ The words should be angry, but they’re not. He lets his hand brush her cheek, and her whole body shivers.
‘I don’t know,’ she whispers. ‘I just…I need to be here.’
‘She’s forcing you to stay here?’ he asks, the fires of fury lighting in his eyes.
‘No!’ she says, quickly, and then, a lot softer, ‘No…I…I can’t explain it, Derek. But I need to be here. Not for her sake. For mine.’
‘What are you going to do, Emily? Play house with mommy? Go with her on one of her weekly killing sprees?’ That is the voice of the man who has grown to despise her kind. She can’t blame him, and yet she can’t shake the agonizing hurt she feels from hearing those words. As though he thinks that she’s as bad as her mother.
‘I’m sorry.’ He shakes his head. ‘I just need to know.’
She leans in and kisses him. It’s slow, soft. Gentle. Their foreheads rest together, and she whispers, ‘I’m here because I need to kill her.’ If he’s surprised at the words, she catches it with another kiss, one arm wrapping around his neck, the other moving to undo his shirt.
‘Emily,’ he breathes. She puts a finger to his lips.
‘Don’t,’ she says. ‘Don’t say no.’ There are so many more things she needs to tell him, but the words don’t come. She kisses him again, harder, and the fact that this house is where they’d shared their first moment does not go unnoticed. Maybe it’s not the romantic occasion, but chances are, it’s the last time they’ll ever be together.
She’s not sure why that upsets her so much.
After all, when you get to seven hundred, a two month relationship isn’t exactly commitment.
He’d shown up, though, which is more than a lot of people would have done.
She strips his shirt off, and lets her hands press against his chest. His heart beats erratically under her fingertips, and even without that tactile evidence, she can hear it pounding in her ears, so fast.
He takes her against the wall, rough, but intimate at the same time. Her dress is pooled at the floor around her feet, and she does not want him to leave. But he has to.
‘I can help you,’ he protests.
Emily shakes her head. ‘No. Not here. Not now. They’ll kill you without a second thought. You know what you have to do, Morgan.’
He gives her one last look, before walking out.
Emily waits until his smell has left the air before letting the first tear fall.