one-shot: Perfect circle
Title: Perfect circle
Author: frenhu
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Emily Prentiss/Jennifer Jareau
Rating: PG+
Disclaimer: No, they are not mine….“Criminal Minds” belongs to CBS.
Summary: She can’t be your sanctuary; not now, not ever.
Authors Note: First, there was the fic “ Saviour of the night”. Then there was a follow-up called “ Transient echoes”. Now, this is the third part, the sequel of the sequel (probably shouldn’t call them one-shots, haha). You guys are so amazing and encouraging that I can’t possibly thank you enough. Ever. Hope you enjoy and yes, there will be a final part. I surrender. :)
A/N 2: Carly, you know I couldn’t have done this without you. Beta by audiopineapple and carlyisnot .
Emily
Three weeks have passed since you got that damn piece of paper and still there hasn’t been any word from her. You are ashamed to admit that you fished out that meaningless note that night, simply staring at it, analyzing like it would make things easier to accept. Why couldn’t she stay with you that night? She wrote that she can’t; can’t what? She can’t fuck you senseless anymore? Can’t rip your heart out twice? Can’t be in the same room as you? Can’t be with you again?
Of course, your teammates slowly notice the slight changes in your behavior. You are the first to arrive in the morning, always with a dreadful face, and you leave late in the night. You spend the first week without her presence constantly watching in the direction of the elevator door whenever you hear its faint sound and someone stepping out on your level. You wish it was her coming back to you, walking to your desk, standing in front of you and telling you “Everything is going to be alright. I’m here now.” She would only need to say those words and everything would be right again.
The other day, you snapped at Morgan because he asked you if you were okay.
“Prentiss, are you alright there? Do you want to talk about it?”
“God, can’t you leave a person alone for a minute?! And why is that you want to talk so suddenly? I need some space, I’m going out for coffee.”
Yes, you were that pathetic. After that little scene you caused, nobody dared to cross your way that day. You saw all the worried faces, questioning themselves about what the hell is wrong with you.
You still don’t care.
All you want to do is to go to Garcia and shake out all the information she knows about her. You just simply can’t put your legs into action. God knows you tried; one leg in front of another. That simple task makes you cringe every time.
You knew you would reach this point eventually, maybe years later, when you were burnt out because of your job. You thought it would be after a heart-wrenching case, an uncaught UnSub or an unsolved crime that was haunting you. No, your breakpoint was her. And you are steadily falling apart, piece by piece, in front of everyone, because she didn’t want you. Because she rejected you in a way you didn’t think it was possible.
JJ
You know you shouldn’t have run away, from her, but you can't do anything about it. You know you can’t hide at your friend’s place forever, at the other end of the country. Meg has always been your hard rock, your anchor, even when you were little. In the past years you’ve been here two times: just after Reid was abducted and then found, and when Penelope got shot. Always before you knew you would fall apart.
You can't allow yourself, or your team to reach that point. But as you sit in the kitchen in the dark, one shot of scotch in your hand, you realize that this time, you are too late. You have already given in, you passed that exact state when you can turn back and pretend like this is not happening to you.
You ignore the calls you get from Morgan or Garcia. You know they are concerned and the time when you have to return to D.C. is closing upon you. You don’t want to deal with the reality for a little bit more. Three weeks, you’ve been here for three fucking weeks and you still need time; for what, you have no idea yet.
You are suffocating.
You can’t face her.
She can’t be your sanctuary; not now, not ever.
Your plan goes right out of the window when two days later you get a text message from Hotch informing you that your substitute just quit and you have to fly back immediately.
So this is it.
Time is up.
Author: frenhu
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Emily Prentiss/Jennifer Jareau
Rating: PG+
Disclaimer: No, they are not mine….“Criminal Minds” belongs to CBS.
Summary: She can’t be your sanctuary; not now, not ever.
Authors Note: First, there was the fic “ Saviour of the night”. Then there was a follow-up called “ Transient echoes”. Now, this is the third part, the sequel of the sequel (probably shouldn’t call them one-shots, haha). You guys are so amazing and encouraging that I can’t possibly thank you enough. Ever. Hope you enjoy and yes, there will be a final part. I surrender. :)
A/N 2: Carly, you know I couldn’t have done this without you. Beta by audiopineapple and carlyisnot .
Emily
Three weeks have passed since you got that damn piece of paper and still there hasn’t been any word from her. You are ashamed to admit that you fished out that meaningless note that night, simply staring at it, analyzing like it would make things easier to accept. Why couldn’t she stay with you that night? She wrote that she can’t; can’t what? She can’t fuck you senseless anymore? Can’t rip your heart out twice? Can’t be in the same room as you? Can’t be with you again?
Of course, your teammates slowly notice the slight changes in your behavior. You are the first to arrive in the morning, always with a dreadful face, and you leave late in the night. You spend the first week without her presence constantly watching in the direction of the elevator door whenever you hear its faint sound and someone stepping out on your level. You wish it was her coming back to you, walking to your desk, standing in front of you and telling you “Everything is going to be alright. I’m here now.” She would only need to say those words and everything would be right again.
The other day, you snapped at Morgan because he asked you if you were okay.
“Prentiss, are you alright there? Do you want to talk about it?”
“God, can’t you leave a person alone for a minute?! And why is that you want to talk so suddenly? I need some space, I’m going out for coffee.”
Yes, you were that pathetic. After that little scene you caused, nobody dared to cross your way that day. You saw all the worried faces, questioning themselves about what the hell is wrong with you.
You still don’t care.
All you want to do is to go to Garcia and shake out all the information she knows about her. You just simply can’t put your legs into action. God knows you tried; one leg in front of another. That simple task makes you cringe every time.
You knew you would reach this point eventually, maybe years later, when you were burnt out because of your job. You thought it would be after a heart-wrenching case, an uncaught UnSub or an unsolved crime that was haunting you. No, your breakpoint was her. And you are steadily falling apart, piece by piece, in front of everyone, because she didn’t want you. Because she rejected you in a way you didn’t think it was possible.
JJ
You know you shouldn’t have run away, from her, but you can't do anything about it. You know you can’t hide at your friend’s place forever, at the other end of the country. Meg has always been your hard rock, your anchor, even when you were little. In the past years you’ve been here two times: just after Reid was abducted and then found, and when Penelope got shot. Always before you knew you would fall apart.
You can't allow yourself, or your team to reach that point. But as you sit in the kitchen in the dark, one shot of scotch in your hand, you realize that this time, you are too late. You have already given in, you passed that exact state when you can turn back and pretend like this is not happening to you.
You ignore the calls you get from Morgan or Garcia. You know they are concerned and the time when you have to return to D.C. is closing upon you. You don’t want to deal with the reality for a little bit more. Three weeks, you’ve been here for three fucking weeks and you still need time; for what, you have no idea yet.
You are suffocating.
You can’t face her.
She can’t be your sanctuary; not now, not ever.
Your plan goes right out of the window when two days later you get a text message from Hotch informing you that your substitute just quit and you have to fly back immediately.
So this is it.
Time is up.