[30_forbidden] Fix You

[defy_n_gravity]

Title: Fix You
Author: defy_n_gravity
Prompt: 30_forbidden: Touch
Characters: Derek Morgan/Emily Prentiss
Rating: M
Words: 2871 (not bad for not having written in over a week!)
Disclaimer: I have no claim on Criminal Minds or any of it's characters. No harm is meant, I'm only using them for fun.
Warning: Sexual content, but not graphic. There is a bit of physically abusing content as well.
Author's Notes: This...didn't exactly go as planned. At all. But that's what's so much fun about writing? Post 6x01 - The Longest Night. Also, I yoinked this picture from inward_audacity for a good cause. Straight from the episode for those that don't watch.
Summary: The case has been really hard on Derek, and it's been hard on Emily to watch him go through it. But as always, when one of them pushes the other just pushes back.

She found him by accident that night. He was at a bar they had frequented while they were together. A bar that was far from the usual spots the team went to, because that had always made it easier to stay hidden. She didn't know what took her out there that night, but she went and he was there.

He was leaned over a glass filled with dark amber liquid, his bruised head resting in his hand. She froze and debated whether she should stay or go. He hadn't been receptive to talking to her earlier when she stopped him at work and she didn't want to push him, but she was worried. No, she wasn't just worried, she was terrified. She had been since the moment they lost connection the other night, and when they finally got to him that fear didn't subside.

There was something about seeing Derek bruised and beaten that always broke something deep inside of her. She knew he wasn't immortal, but he was someone so strong, so constant, that seeing him bleed didn't seem natural. She was used to his pain being in his eyes. She had to be, after all she had caused some of it.

Things between them hadn't been as difficult as they previously were, because instead of focusing on each other and what had gone on between them, they both just focused on the job. They worked around each other. They buried the hate. It wasn't as easy as she made it look, and it was even harder when she watched him suffer through everything he was going through. The case had been so hard on him and she was used to being there to hold him grounded. She hated that she couldn't.

When she had set her hand to his shoulder earlier she got hit with memories of all the touches they'd had in secrecy. All the touches that made her feel so...comforted. And when he walked away from her she felt her heart breaking all over again. She did still love him. She couldn't and wouldn't say that she didn't.

She got knocked into as she stood there in the bar watching him and it propelled her to step towards him. Her steps were slow and hesitant, but soon she was at his side.

“Derek,” she said softly. She reached out to touch him, her hand freezing in the air for a moment before settling on his shoulder. He turned to glance up at her, then he shook her hand away. She mouthed wordlessly then clamped her mouth shut and tightly wrapped her arms in front of her chest.

He watched her, waiting, and when she didn't speak he turned back to his drink. “What?”

She stumbled over silent words again and sighed before trying again. “Do you want to talk?”

“No.”

She wasn't surprised by the way he was acting towards her, but it would have been a lot easier if he had snapped at her. Instead he spoke to her as though she were just some stranger. As though it wasn't worth his emotions. “Derek...I know we-”

“You're not screwin' me anymore, Prentiss, you don't have to pretend you care.”

Emily stepped back at that as though she'd been slapped. He never spoke to her like that, and she didn't like that he did then. Her brows narrowed in concern. “I've never pretended.”

“What do you want?” His fist slammed down on top of the bar and he looked up at her again. His eyes were searching hers for something, but she wasn't sure what. It hurt though, how much confusion and pain she saw there.

“I want to drive you home,” she said softly. She didn't know if she meant anything more behind it or not, but all she truly wanted was to help his pain stop. “Derek...please...” She reached for him again but he shot up on his feet and out of her reach.

“What?!” He shouted. “You made it real clear that we're through so why are you here?!”

“I didn't expect to find you here,” she said calmly. “I know that we've-”

He held up a hand to silence her, and she fell quiet. He watched her closely. “Leave me alone, okay?” She opened her mouth to argue, but he beat her to it. “What? All of this make you realize we shouldn't have split up? That you do want to be with me?”

Her hand came up to brush over her face and through her hair. She looked away. “I don't know what I want as far as 'us' is concerned, I'm just worried about you. Am I not allowed to worry about you anymore?”

“It'd be a lot easier if you didn't.”

“So...that's it?” She finally met his eyes again. “You're just going to...let this destroy you?”

He stepped forward and leaned into her. “Don't be so full of yourself,” he said coldly. “I'm not letting you break me.”

She stared right back up at him, not challenged. “I wasn't talking about me, I was talking about the case. Everything. All the cases to come. Are you done now? Is this where the great agent falls from grace and lets the job bury him?”

“I don't see any great agents around here,” he bit back, glaring down at her.

Her eyes closed. He was making her hate him. He was making her miss him. He was making her ache to fix him. He obviously wanted her to hate him. Her jaw tightened and she opened her eyes to gaze up at him again. “I do,” she whispered.

His glare on hers shook and he tried so hard to hold to it, but it melted away and he turned away from her. He picked up his glass and drained it, before setting it down. “I have to go.” He dropped some cash on the counter and headed for the door.

She wasn't letting him go that easy though, so she followed. She caught him outside the door and grabbed onto his arm again, but he tried to shake her off and twisted to grab onto her arm instead. She fought him and he fought her, both wanting control. The upper hand. They struggled until her back hit the brick wall outside the bar. He had a tight hold on her upper arm and he pushed her into the wall. He was looking down at her with all the anger that the case, and their relationship, had drawn up in him. He was angling it all at her and she took it. Her eyes looked up into his and she accepted everything he was sending her. If being angry with her, if hating her, would help then she'd drown in all of it for him.

His chin trembled a bit as he gave her another shove into the wall. He squeezed her arm and glared down at her. She didn't fight back. She didn't even try to push him off. And he finally let in the connection she was trying to send him through their locked eyes. Those gorgeous brown eyes that made him feel everything all at once, the eyes that he had once imagined too good to ever look at him the way he really wanted. And a face that still drifted through his dreams, that he still longed to touch every single day.

He came to. As though he were disconnected, he realized how tightly he was holding onto her, and he looked at his hand on his arm. His face softened right along with his grip, and he moved his eyes back to hers. Her eyes were still waiting there for him without any fear. He let go of her arm quickly and crumbled.

“Oh God, I'm sorry,” he whispered.

She had been watching as his features changed. She watched all the anger and hate he had been trying to project onto her flee, and when he crumbled she caught him. Her arms went around him and she pushed herself off the wall to press her entire self against him. “It's okay,” she whispered back. Her hand came up to the back of his neck and she hugged him tightly. She hugged him as though just her hold on him could keep him there, rooted to what they still had between them. What she had been fighting so hard to pretend didn't exist anymore. It still existed, and it was still as strong as ever.

His face dropped into her neck and his hand brushed along her arm where he'd been gripping her. “Did I hurt you? I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, baby.” He pulled away from her to bring her arm up and push her sleeve up.

“I'm okay,” she assured him. As the shirt moved up the newly forming circular bruise on her upper arm, she pulled away from him and pushed the sleeve back down. He had hurt her, but it was nothing she couldn't take. It was nothing she wouldn't take for him. She knew damn well if he had meant it with malice that she would hurt him worse right back, but he hadn't. He was already hurting himself more than he had hurt her. Her hand came up to his cheek to angle his eyes back on hers. “Derek. I can take it. Whatever it is...I can take it.”

He was quickly filled with more contempt for himself than anyone else could have in him. He had been hurt and angry with her, but he had never wanted to physically harm her. He didn't even really want to hurt her emotionally. Sure, a piece of him did, but only because of how much he had been hurting. More than anything...he just wanted to fall into her and let her take it all away. “You shouldn't have to,” he whispered. His fingertips brushed against her face and warmth and comfort tingled through his veins. He didn't know how a single person could hurt him so much in one second, but make him feel so completely at home the next.

“There aren't many people I'll take it from,” she said. Her hand was cupping his cheek still and her thumb grazed the skin under his eye. She watched his eyes close as he leaned into her touch. She pulled his face down and brushed her lips near the wound on his forehead. “I'm sorry.” It was her turn to whisper the words.

He shook his head and covered her hand with his. “Don't say that.”

“I am. I'm sorry. You...you scared the hell out of me, and I didn't know how to-”

“I don't blame you,” he said. He tilted her face so he could look into her eyes again. He stared at her for a long time before going on. “I know...we have a lot we have to talk about, but...can we not? Not tonight.”

Disappointment washed through her and she nodded slowly. “O-okay,” she started to pull away from him. “Sure.”

He frowned and pulled her close again before she could get away. “No, I mean...just come home with me. We'll talk. We'll talk until we're blue in the face, and if we decide...if talking doesn't fix us, then I won't...” He trailed off and shook his head. “Just for tonight. Come home with me.”

She studied him, only for a moment, before taking his hand and pulling him towards her car. She wasn't sure how much he'd had to drink, but she knew it had probably been enough. He silently went with her and let go of her long enough to get into her passenger seat, but as soon as she was seated beside him he grabbed her hand in both of his and closed his eyes as she drove away from the bar.

***
He sat down on the edge of his bed where she guided him and let her pull his shirt over his head carefully. She tossed it aside and knelt down to get his boots off, then she stood up. He watched her as her fingers wrapped around the bottom of her own shirt and slowly lifted it over her head. He couldn't help but let his eyes roam over her body and every curve that he had missed so much. He wanted to touch every inch of her in case he forgot how she felt. If that was even possible.

She kicked out of her shoes, and as she reached for the button on her pants his eyes caught the bruise on her arm. It was a lot brighter than it had been before. His face fell and he reached out for her, his hand settling on her hip so he could pull her in closer. She went and let him lean in to kiss her arm gently. Her eyes closed at the warmth that sent through her, and after stepping out of her pants, she climbed into his lap and settled against him. His hands moved up to hold her back and her face leaned down over his, her hair cascading around him. He closed his eyes and slowly breathed her in. She watched this for a moment, but a moment was all she could stand before she had to drop her lips to his.

The feel of her kiss had him holding her closer and he kissed her back. The kiss was slow and timid, much like their first kiss. A hesitant sample to see how it felt. And as incredible as it felt to both of them, it continued in the same fashion. His hands moved down her back, the feel of her smooth skin under his fingertips, and he wrapped his arms around her. He angled backwards and brought her down on the bed so that she was cradled in his arms and his body was leaned over hers. Neither were impatient to go further, they just wanted to be close again.

She relaxed back on the bed and let her fingers run along the slopes and climbs of his back and arms, then reached up to hold onto his face again. Usually when they were in bed, whether it was sex or playing around, she took control, but at the moment she didn't pause at the thought of giving that control up to him. She didn't care. All she cared about was the way he was kissing her, and the feel of his hands on her body. She just wanted him to have her however he needed her.

His fingers moved slowly and tenderly, removing the last of her clothing and relearning the places that made her shiver against him. His lips moved from hers to explore her body and kiss her skin both in places of innocence and places that made her moan for him. Every sound she made was music encouraging him onward. The more time he took in reclaiming her as his own, the more restless she got. He could feel her beneath him, struggling to take control back from him, but he wouldn't relinquish. It wasn't that it was a game, he just needed to take his time. He needed to remember what she felt like, what she tasted like, and on some level he needed her to beg him. He had done his begging long before when he was trying to get her forgiveness, and now he needed to hear it from her. He needed to hear how much she needed him, and how badly she wanted him back. He needed to feel important to her.

When she was finally begging, when her fingers were gripping onto him, her nails breaking his skin, he gave in. He gave in and fell into a place of bliss that he had been craving for so long. The world around them had long since melted away, and all that he had was her and the way their bodies met. The way she fit with him, and the girl underneath all the layers that were Emily Prentiss, that only surfaced at times like those.

When they parted he held her close, still breathing hard, but needing to remind himself that she was still there. She didn't fight it. She curled her body into his and wrapped her arm around his waist. He kissed her long and slow, then relaxed. His arm went around her and he rubbed her back slowly as he looked down at her.

Her eyes were closed, but a content smile was on her lips and she knew he was looking at her. “Go to sleep,” she murmured. Her hand moved up his back and against the large muscles of his shoulder and his arm. It'd be a lie to say she wasn't happy to have his gorgeous body at her touch again, and if he hadn't worn her out so completely she would want to recharge for another round.

His eyes drifted shut and he sighed as her head tucked under his chin. “Only if you promise you'll be here when I wake up.”

She burrowed herself closer into him and held on tighter. “I'll be here when you wake up,” she said softly. “I promise.”