City on the River
Title: City on the River 19/?
Author: Alsike
Fandom: Criminal Minds/X-Men
Pairing: Emily Prentiss... eventually Emma Frost
Rating: PG-15
Summary: When one person travels into an alternate universe a thousand others are created. What if Didi showed up without a time slip on Emily's doorstep, in a world without mutants? What would a twenty-five year old Emily do?
Apologies: Man, the semester has really been killing any urge or energy I’ve had to write fic. Every time I open a web browser, I look sadly at my LJ, and wonder when I will want to write again. Well, apparently, it was today. :D
This chapter isn’t really going anywhere fast, but, well, this story has never gone anywhere fast. And thanks to the 4th anonymous reader comment on the last chapter. No, pretty much none of those things will happen, and yet the second half of this chapter was inspired by that comment.
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15 Part 1
Chapter 15 part 2
Chapter 16
Didi liked to snuggle while being read to or watching movies. She was a warm limpet in the lap, begging for an arm to be wrapped around her and held close. And Emma clung tightly to her, as if that would make the least difference in the way she felt once she were gone.
She pushed her away then, pushed her towards Emily.
“You take her. I need… I need a break.”
The woman and her miniature shared a bewildered look and Emma stormed outside and wished she smoked. At least that way she would have something to do to relieve the tension.
“What is it, Emma? What’s wrong?”
“I hate you! I hate how you brought me into this just so you could stay detached.”
“How can you say that? Detached? God! Don’t you dare think that I won’t be just as wrecked as you if she goes back!” Emily looked away. “When she goes back.”
Emma snorted.
“She’s my baby,” Emily told her, looking pale and upset. Emma stared at her. What secrets did this woman have that she would never tell? “She’s everything I’ve killed and destroyed and messed up. She’s my second chance, and I know I’m terrible at this. But I need a second chance.”
Emma shook her head, half close to weeping. “You? You don’t know what it’s like to need a second chance. But… some days it’s so hard to not just take your credit cards and go, as far and as fast as I can, because wouldn’t it be better to leave than to just wait, wait for the day I lose this?”
Emily stared at her, blank and sort of empty. “If she were gone… If they came to take her home, would you… would you go?”
“What would I stay for?”
Emily looked away. It was all that Emma needed to know. She had no reason to stay. Emily didn’t wouldn’t ask her to stay. Maybe before, but not now. And Emma was guilty, but she wished she remembered what she was guilty of.
* * *
Benji watched Emma stab viciously at a recalcitrant lettuce leaf with her fork and grimaced. He used to be frightened when Emma got angry like that, but he was accustomed to it now.
“What did Emily do this time?”
Emma stared at him. He raised his eyebrows.
“I hate you.”
Benji grinned. “You know, I didn’t realize that we were that good of friends. I’m glad you can tell me that you hate me. It’s a sign of a lasting bond.”
Emma rolled her eyes.
“You can only flout Grice’s Maxim of Quality when it’s obvious that what you’re saying isn’t true.”
“Please, please shut up.”
Benji obeyed, but he did wish he could continue his train of thought. It was interesting how something like ‘I hate you’ meant something entirely different in a certain situation with a certain tone of voice. Emma rubbed her eyes, and Benji sat back in surprise. Was she… going to cry?
“Look, I did something, or said something, and I’m annoyed, because I don’t remember what it was.”
“You mean, you didn’t notice?”
“I guess I didn’t. I usually notice if I fuck up.” Emma shook her head. “It’s not like she’s good at keeping her feelings off her face. She’s the worst liar I’ve ever met, but… she’s good at lies of omission. So I know I did something, but I don’t know what, and she’s not going to tell me.”
“But what-“
“I was drunk and I don’t remember!”
Benji frowned.
“Don’t look at me like that. I dropped out of college. I’m allowed a night of irresponsibility.” She grimaced slightly. “I wouldn’t have done it. But I… I just wanted to know.”
“Know what?”
Emma looked at him, her (occasionally creepily) pale eyes looked dark and muted. Benji felt worried. She didn’t usually look like that. “What would you do if I asked you to fuck me?”
“What?” He stared at her. “Why would you… you know I would never-“
“I’m not asking! But you wouldn’t do it because you it wouldn’t want to hurt Emily, right?”
“Well yes. But, it’s good for you, to be with her, and I wouldn’t want to mess it up. I wouldn’t want to let you mess it up.” He frowned. “Any more than you manage to do by yourself.”
“There’s not anything to mess up.”
“That’s not true. I’ve seen you two together. I wouldn’t mess it up.”
Emma stared at him, eyes flat. “There’s nothing to mess up. We’re not together. We weren’t ever together.”
“But you said-“
“I implied heavily.” She pressed her lips shut. “I lied.”
It didn’t make any sense. Benji stared at her. He didn’t believe her. “No.”
“Just listen to me! I lied. I said we were fucking. I said that when I was still sure she was a murderer or something worse. How the hell did you believe me?” She looked at her plate. “Why does everyone believe me?”
“Because it makes sense. Because you act like a family. You act like you’re in love.”
“You should have known better than that. You know more about this than anyone. You know where Didi came from. You know where I came from. Do you really think I would have slept with her after barely knowing her for a week? You thought that because I was with her in some other universe that I would just magically fall for her? It doesn’t work like that.”
Maybe it didn’t. But that wasn’t what he was trying to say. “You fell for Didi.”
“That’s different. She’s a child. I don’t have to worry that she’s lying to me or trying to manipulate me.”
“And Emily is?”
She sat back, her lips drawn down into a childish frown. “I don’t know what Emily’s doing. I never know. And she’s always manipulating me. This is just the same.”
“What is? What is she doing?” Benji shook his head. Emma was always defensive. It didn’t matter what she said. He knew their relationship was important to her, whatever sort of relationship it was. And something was wrong.
“I could leave now.”
“No you couldn’t!”
“Why not? Sure maybe it would be a little harder at first, finding sitters. But Jane would help. And Emily’s fine with Didi. She should know that. And if I’m not here, maybe she’ll figure it out.”
“You didn’t want to leave last week. You were… you were signing up for classes.”
“That was when she was still looking at me!”
Benji stayed silent, hoping she would keep talking.
“I hated it at first. I could always feel it. It was like a creep along my skin. But I got over it. I got used to it. I got used to that weird little almost smile when she saw me.”
Benji knew that one. It was never enough to be obviously more than Emily’s amusement at her own thoughts. But it was too consistent. It was kind of blatant really, once you could read her.
“But I fucked up. And now she can’t look at me. She looks broken. And I don’t know what I did.”
It was too sad. But it was almost ironic. They weren’t together? Then why was she so upset that Emily wasn’t in love with her anymore.
“You hurt her feelings.”
“What am I supposed to do about it!”
Benji cocked his head. Did she really not know? No, she didn’t. “You… give her a hug. You bring her stuff. You show her you’re sorry, and that you care.”
“I don't do that stuff. I don't… shower with affection.”
Benji almost laughed. He really hadn’t been describing showering with affection. But then he remembered her threat. “You can just wait it out. It’s not the best, but, she’ll probably get over it. But what you don’t do is leave. I mean think about it. You tell her something bad… you tell her you hate her. And then you walk out. What do you think she’ll do?”
Emma looked down at her plate, cheeks pale. And Benji stared at it too. It really was such a short time, he thought, since he had been sent to follow that woman with the kid and make sure she didn’t toss her into the river. He had only caught a glimpse of her: pale skin, too pale, eyes red, dark circles marking a crescent beneath them. She had looked rocked to the core. And when she had caught him, asleep in her yard, he had listened. But it had been the flinches, the shakiness in her hands, the odd glances off into nothing that had worried him. And he had believed her, and tried everything he could to make her laugh, to keep back the panic, because when he looked into her eyes, he saw something sunken there, something lost and resigned, something that this sudden insanity, a sudden child, could shake loose, and knock her out of her rut and off the ledge.
She wasn’t so close to the ledge anymore, and he knew that part of it was due to the woman in front of him, the one who resented kindness so fiercely, you never doubted her appreciation for it.
“Don’t leave.”
Emma shook her head. “I can’t. Not yet.”
Benji was almost relieved.
* * *
It wasn’t even summer yet, but it was hot, too hot to sleep upstairs. Didi whined, but she collapsed on a sheet on the couch and was out cold for the night.
Emma tried staying upstairs, but couldn’t bear it. The futon was opened up in the living room, but she couldn’t sleep next to Emily. It had been uncomfortable the first time, when she had been afraid. She knew Emily wouldn’t touch her now. She thought, perhaps, Emily wouldn’t even want to. It was exhausting. Emily didn’t curl into her like she usually did. She stayed stiff on the edge of the futon, and Emma doubted she was asleep. Emma couldn’t relax. She shifted, rolling over once, rolling over again. Maybe she could annoy Emily into snapping at her. That would be better, better than the endless, useless, meaningless hurt. Emily gave a wordless sigh. Maybe she was asleep. Emma lay there, staring at the soft smooth skin at the juncture of her neck and back, hair bound up in a sloppy loop above it. She lay there for a long time.
Emily was hovering over her, her eyes intent. “How can you just tease me? You always tease me, and sometimes it’s more than I can take, all right?”
Emma whimpered, hands were pressing her shoulders down into the futon. Emily’s breath brushed her ear. Her eyes were intent. She leaned down and kissed Emma, firmly, parting her lips with her tongue. The kiss burned through her, and Emma arched up, clinging to the back of her head, wanting more, wanting to be overtaken by it.
She awoke, sweating, pressed up against Emily, right on the edge of the bed. Emily was asleep. She looked sad even in her sleep. Her t-shirt and cotton shorts were half-ridden up, and Emma breathed hard, trying to slow it, trying to look away, trying not to want her. But she did. Her body was lanky and strong, smooth pale skin, her breasts slipped to the side, pushing against the thin cloth of the t-shirt.
Maybe soon, maybe soon she’d figure out how to do this. Maybe soon there would be a way to un-fuck everything up.
* * *
Work was a relief, better than being around Emma, reminded every day of that careless way she had held her, and told her that she was nothing. Everyone hated her at work, but it was better than the ugly feeling of desiring someone who thought of you as family, of someone who was there to do her work, and when it was done, would walk away.
The flickering of a foreign tongue, translation, repetition, checking. Other people’s words, other lives other voices, better to have them in her head than her own.
She had wanted more than this once. She had wanted to change the world, and been slapped in the face with the impossibility of it. Now she wanted something else, and it was just as impossible.
“Hey, Prentiss.” Emily looked up. “You’ve got some colloquial Arabic, right? What kind?”
“Egyptian,” she said. “Cairo. Also some Levantine.”
“It’ll do. Come on. Agent Pierce needs a translator.”
“O-okay.”
* * *
“Just get me out of here. I don’t want to be here anymore.” Emily couldn’t breathe, she didn’t want to breathe the stench of cleaners, the stench of death. The smoke and burnt flesh already clotted her nose, and she couldn’t see anything else, anything but bone and pus and lesions.
“Now, Ms. Prentiss, we have to be certain you can manage your pain.”
“I don’t want to be here!”
“Emily!” Emily turned. Emma was running down the hall towards her, sneakers squeaking like a sprinter’s on the linoleum. Her short hair swung, lashing her face, and Emily didn’t want to see her here. She didn’t want her here. Anywhere else, not here. “Are you all right? They called, and I took your car, and I don’t even have a license, but I wasn’t taking the bus, and, oh my god.”
Emily stared at her. Her eyes burned hot and sharp with tears. She whimpered and put out her good arm. Emma stared at her, surprise bright on her face, but she slid in, dropping a knee onto the chair beside her bed and wrapped her arms carefully around Emily, pulling her in close.
“Are you okay? What happened?” Her fingers ran lightly up the bandages that coated her right arm, and then touched almost feather-light on the two or three white strips of sticking plaster on her face.
“Who- who are you?” the doctor asked, he sounded a little shocked. Emily just buried her face in Emma’s shirt. “Are you family?”
“I want to go home,” Emily murmured. Her voice came out wobbly and Emma tightened her grip. She glared over her shoulder at the doctor.
“I’m here to bring her home. Now just tell me what I have to do to get her out of here.”
“Her pain management-“ The doctor tried again, waving his clipboard indecisively.
“Are you in pain?”
Emily shook her head, lower lip half stuck out. Emma gazed at her, an odd look on her face, then she smiled faintly and petted her hair. “You look so much like Didi when you pout. Don’t cry. Why are you crying?”
“I hate hospitals, I want to go home.”
“We’ll be out of here in a minute, don’t worry.”
“Miss…” the doctor looked distressed at this promise. “The burns are pretty severe, and she-”
“She refused opiates? What are you giving her? I’ll take care of it.”
“Who are you?”
“I-” Emily burrowed into her shoulder. Emma pressed a hand to the back of her head. “I’m her girlfriend.” Emily froze. Some lie, always a lie, but not this one.
The doctor’s face twisted. “Look, legally, I really-“
Suddenly the press of Emma’s hand felt like a steel block. “Are you disrespecting us?” Emma’s voice was furious. “Are you really, seriously, telling me I can’t take her home? If I said I was her roommate would you let me take her home? Her sister-in-law? Just let her go! You’re a doctor, not some sort of prison warden!”
A large disapproving nurse bustled over, staring pointedly. “Are we having problems? Do you need me to call an orderly?”
“I need someone who isn’t an idiot!” Emma flashed a glare around at everyone equally. “Emily wants to go home, and as far as I can tell, there’s no reason to keep her here any longer, so just sign the bloody release papers and I’ll take her home!”
The nurse frowned and plucked the clipboard from the doctor’s hand. She ran down it, then fixed Emily with a sharp look. “Did the doctor explain how to treat the burns?”
Emily nodded weakly.
“And the amount of pain you’re in, from one to ten?”
“Three,” Emily offered. The pain was nothing really, not compared to everything else, to the fear and pressure of being here. But Emma’s hand was warm on her back, and she wasn’t supposed to be grateful, but it made things so much better.
“Do you think you’ll be able to sleep?”
Emily nodded. Not here though, never here.
“Sleep on your good side, and you-“ she looked at Emma. “You curl up right behind her so she doesn’t roll over.” She pulled off the prescription and handed it to Emma. “No more than four a day, each with a glass of milk.” She scanned down the sheet. “And… you’re coming in for a psych-eval in a week. Any warning signs,” she handed Emma a sheet of behaviors to look out for, “you bring her right in. It’s not worth the risk to wait and see.”
Emily flinched, looking down. Emma nodded, a little bewildered.
The nurse signed the sheet. “Okay, we’ll get you a wheelchair and you can go.”
Emily didn’t protest being loaded into the chair, which was more worrying than anything after the phone call, and Emma pushed her down the hall, dogged by an orderly, and into the elevator to the parking levels.
They got to the car and Emma reached out. “You need help?”
Emily shook her head and shakily climbed out of the chair herself, pushing up off her good arm. Emma reached out to steady her and Emily looked up into her eyes, her expression dark and hurting. “Thanks for coming to my rescue.”
Emma sank. It was too much. This was too upsetting. “Don’t do this to me.” She couldn’t bear it, Emily being hurt. Worse, there was really nothing selfish about it. If Emily got herself killed, then Emma was up a creek with a small child and no canoe, but it hardly mattered in comparison to it being Emily. She needed Emily. She couldn’t imagine… She shook her head. “Don’t do this.” Then she cupped the back of Emily’s head, stepped in, and kissed her. Emily sank into her, bodies meshing, and kissed back, it felt desperate, like it was the last kiss, and Emma couldn’t bear it. She jerked away.
“Shit!” She pressed her palms against her eyes.
“Let’s just go.”
Emma nodded, not looking back.
Emily climbed gingerly into the car, sinking back into the seat, the pain obvious on her face. Emma slid into the driver’s side and busied herself putting the key in, and watching the orderly hustle away with the chair in the rearview mirror. If she didn’t watch she wouldn’t try to help, and she wouldn’t feel sick with every twinge of pain on Emily’s face.
“What happened?” Emma asked, frowning as she found the clutch with her left foot, and started the car. She jerked the shift around into reverse and let out the clutch. The car died.
“You can’t drive stick, can you?”
Emma scowled, not looking over. “I got here, didn’t I?”
“You need more gas.”
Jerkily, Emma managed to get them out of the hospital parking lot and onto the highway. The worst of the shifting was over then.
“You still didn’t tell me what happened.” She looked then, and wished she hadn’t. Emily’s eyes were dark and didn’t seem to be seeing the world in front of her. She looked down at her hands, turning the burnt one over and over.
“He blew up.”
“What?”
“The guy I was supposed to be interpreting for, he blew himself up. He was shouting it, screaming really. I just grabbed the Agent I was with and ran. He turned into a fireball. I don’t have any idea what he used, but it was…”
“Shit,” Emma hissed the word.
“It was the worst thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I’ve seen a lot of crappy things, but nothing like that.”
“The agent you were with?”
“Concussion, superficial burns. I took more of a direct hit.”
Emma turned on her, furious. “You’re a translator, you’re not supposed to throw yourself in the line of fire!” She jerked at the gear shift. The car groaned horribly, ground to a stop and died.
“Uh, I don’t have six gears, that’s reverse.”
Emma slapped her. Cars honked behind them and swerved around the green volkswagon hatchback.
Stunned, Emily sat back in the seat, staring at her. “What?”
“Don’t you ever do anything like that again!”
“Emma…”
“I need you! I need you, and Didi needs you, and I can’t take you being a hero. I don’t want to say I knew a dead hero, I just want you.”
Emily didn’t say anything for a moment. She looked away. “You said you didn’t.”
Emma stared at her. “That’s what I said? That’s what I said that’s been making you act like I throttled your kitten?”
“You don’t remember?”
“I was kind of shitfaced.”
“You said you didn’t want me.” She sounded like Emma had broken her heart.
“I meant I wasn’t ready to sleep with you yet!”
Emily gaped.
“That’s all! It’s about me; it’s about my issues. It doesn’t have anything to do with you. But if you get all depressed and then try and go get yourself killed, I won’t be okay.” The words came bitterly and honestly. But they knew Didi would leave. Emily was all she had. “I lose everyone I love, to their own hand sometimes, and I can’t… I can’t lose you. Not right now.”
She couldn’t look over, just shifted into first and restarted the car.
“I’m sorry.”
She ground the gears a few times downshifting as she left the highway. Their street wasn’t far. She dared a glance. Emily was gazing out the window, not seeming to see the trees or parked cars, looking injured and tired, but not a wreck like before.
“You were a mess in the hospital.”
“I hate hospitals.” Her words were quiet, and she didn't look at Emma as she spoke. “A couple years ago my best friend from high-school died of AIDS. I spent months in his room, watching him go.”
“Oh.” Was that one of those secrets she kept so close? Maybe it was.
Emily glanced over at her, watching as she parked in front of their house, a weak smile on her face. “I guess you know now, how I felt when you had to get that blood test.”
Emma turned the key, the car quieting, and stared at her. It was different, in a way, the expectation of lingering misery, versus this: a sudden blow out of nowhere. It wasn’t okay. None of this was okay.
Emma smacked Emily’s good shoulder. “Keep it in mind, jerk. No more fucking explosions.”
Author: Alsike
Fandom: Criminal Minds/X-Men
Pairing: Emily Prentiss... eventually Emma Frost
Rating: PG-15
Summary: When one person travels into an alternate universe a thousand others are created. What if Didi showed up without a time slip on Emily's doorstep, in a world without mutants? What would a twenty-five year old Emily do?
Apologies: Man, the semester has really been killing any urge or energy I’ve had to write fic. Every time I open a web browser, I look sadly at my LJ, and wonder when I will want to write again. Well, apparently, it was today. :D
This chapter isn’t really going anywhere fast, but, well, this story has never gone anywhere fast. And thanks to the 4th anonymous reader comment on the last chapter. No, pretty much none of those things will happen, and yet the second half of this chapter was inspired by that comment.
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15 Part 1
Chapter 15 part 2
Chapter 16
Didi liked to snuggle while being read to or watching movies. She was a warm limpet in the lap, begging for an arm to be wrapped around her and held close. And Emma clung tightly to her, as if that would make the least difference in the way she felt once she were gone.
She pushed her away then, pushed her towards Emily.
“You take her. I need… I need a break.”
The woman and her miniature shared a bewildered look and Emma stormed outside and wished she smoked. At least that way she would have something to do to relieve the tension.
“What is it, Emma? What’s wrong?”
“I hate you! I hate how you brought me into this just so you could stay detached.”
“How can you say that? Detached? God! Don’t you dare think that I won’t be just as wrecked as you if she goes back!” Emily looked away. “When she goes back.”
Emma snorted.
“She’s my baby,” Emily told her, looking pale and upset. Emma stared at her. What secrets did this woman have that she would never tell? “She’s everything I’ve killed and destroyed and messed up. She’s my second chance, and I know I’m terrible at this. But I need a second chance.”
Emma shook her head, half close to weeping. “You? You don’t know what it’s like to need a second chance. But… some days it’s so hard to not just take your credit cards and go, as far and as fast as I can, because wouldn’t it be better to leave than to just wait, wait for the day I lose this?”
Emily stared at her, blank and sort of empty. “If she were gone… If they came to take her home, would you… would you go?”
“What would I stay for?”
Emily looked away. It was all that Emma needed to know. She had no reason to stay. Emily didn’t wouldn’t ask her to stay. Maybe before, but not now. And Emma was guilty, but she wished she remembered what she was guilty of.
* * *
Benji watched Emma stab viciously at a recalcitrant lettuce leaf with her fork and grimaced. He used to be frightened when Emma got angry like that, but he was accustomed to it now.
“What did Emily do this time?”
Emma stared at him. He raised his eyebrows.
“I hate you.”
Benji grinned. “You know, I didn’t realize that we were that good of friends. I’m glad you can tell me that you hate me. It’s a sign of a lasting bond.”
Emma rolled her eyes.
“You can only flout Grice’s Maxim of Quality when it’s obvious that what you’re saying isn’t true.”
“Please, please shut up.”
Benji obeyed, but he did wish he could continue his train of thought. It was interesting how something like ‘I hate you’ meant something entirely different in a certain situation with a certain tone of voice. Emma rubbed her eyes, and Benji sat back in surprise. Was she… going to cry?
“Look, I did something, or said something, and I’m annoyed, because I don’t remember what it was.”
“You mean, you didn’t notice?”
“I guess I didn’t. I usually notice if I fuck up.” Emma shook her head. “It’s not like she’s good at keeping her feelings off her face. She’s the worst liar I’ve ever met, but… she’s good at lies of omission. So I know I did something, but I don’t know what, and she’s not going to tell me.”
“But what-“
“I was drunk and I don’t remember!”
Benji frowned.
“Don’t look at me like that. I dropped out of college. I’m allowed a night of irresponsibility.” She grimaced slightly. “I wouldn’t have done it. But I… I just wanted to know.”
“Know what?”
Emma looked at him, her (occasionally creepily) pale eyes looked dark and muted. Benji felt worried. She didn’t usually look like that. “What would you do if I asked you to fuck me?”
“What?” He stared at her. “Why would you… you know I would never-“
“I’m not asking! But you wouldn’t do it because you it wouldn’t want to hurt Emily, right?”
“Well yes. But, it’s good for you, to be with her, and I wouldn’t want to mess it up. I wouldn’t want to let you mess it up.” He frowned. “Any more than you manage to do by yourself.”
“There’s not anything to mess up.”
“That’s not true. I’ve seen you two together. I wouldn’t mess it up.”
Emma stared at him, eyes flat. “There’s nothing to mess up. We’re not together. We weren’t ever together.”
“But you said-“
“I implied heavily.” She pressed her lips shut. “I lied.”
It didn’t make any sense. Benji stared at her. He didn’t believe her. “No.”
“Just listen to me! I lied. I said we were fucking. I said that when I was still sure she was a murderer or something worse. How the hell did you believe me?” She looked at her plate. “Why does everyone believe me?”
“Because it makes sense. Because you act like a family. You act like you’re in love.”
“You should have known better than that. You know more about this than anyone. You know where Didi came from. You know where I came from. Do you really think I would have slept with her after barely knowing her for a week? You thought that because I was with her in some other universe that I would just magically fall for her? It doesn’t work like that.”
Maybe it didn’t. But that wasn’t what he was trying to say. “You fell for Didi.”
“That’s different. She’s a child. I don’t have to worry that she’s lying to me or trying to manipulate me.”
“And Emily is?”
She sat back, her lips drawn down into a childish frown. “I don’t know what Emily’s doing. I never know. And she’s always manipulating me. This is just the same.”
“What is? What is she doing?” Benji shook his head. Emma was always defensive. It didn’t matter what she said. He knew their relationship was important to her, whatever sort of relationship it was. And something was wrong.
“I could leave now.”
“No you couldn’t!”
“Why not? Sure maybe it would be a little harder at first, finding sitters. But Jane would help. And Emily’s fine with Didi. She should know that. And if I’m not here, maybe she’ll figure it out.”
“You didn’t want to leave last week. You were… you were signing up for classes.”
“That was when she was still looking at me!”
Benji stayed silent, hoping she would keep talking.
“I hated it at first. I could always feel it. It was like a creep along my skin. But I got over it. I got used to it. I got used to that weird little almost smile when she saw me.”
Benji knew that one. It was never enough to be obviously more than Emily’s amusement at her own thoughts. But it was too consistent. It was kind of blatant really, once you could read her.
“But I fucked up. And now she can’t look at me. She looks broken. And I don’t know what I did.”
It was too sad. But it was almost ironic. They weren’t together? Then why was she so upset that Emily wasn’t in love with her anymore.
“You hurt her feelings.”
“What am I supposed to do about it!”
Benji cocked his head. Did she really not know? No, she didn’t. “You… give her a hug. You bring her stuff. You show her you’re sorry, and that you care.”
“I don't do that stuff. I don't… shower with affection.”
Benji almost laughed. He really hadn’t been describing showering with affection. But then he remembered her threat. “You can just wait it out. It’s not the best, but, she’ll probably get over it. But what you don’t do is leave. I mean think about it. You tell her something bad… you tell her you hate her. And then you walk out. What do you think she’ll do?”
Emma looked down at her plate, cheeks pale. And Benji stared at it too. It really was such a short time, he thought, since he had been sent to follow that woman with the kid and make sure she didn’t toss her into the river. He had only caught a glimpse of her: pale skin, too pale, eyes red, dark circles marking a crescent beneath them. She had looked rocked to the core. And when she had caught him, asleep in her yard, he had listened. But it had been the flinches, the shakiness in her hands, the odd glances off into nothing that had worried him. And he had believed her, and tried everything he could to make her laugh, to keep back the panic, because when he looked into her eyes, he saw something sunken there, something lost and resigned, something that this sudden insanity, a sudden child, could shake loose, and knock her out of her rut and off the ledge.
She wasn’t so close to the ledge anymore, and he knew that part of it was due to the woman in front of him, the one who resented kindness so fiercely, you never doubted her appreciation for it.
“Don’t leave.”
Emma shook her head. “I can’t. Not yet.”
Benji was almost relieved.
* * *
It wasn’t even summer yet, but it was hot, too hot to sleep upstairs. Didi whined, but she collapsed on a sheet on the couch and was out cold for the night.
Emma tried staying upstairs, but couldn’t bear it. The futon was opened up in the living room, but she couldn’t sleep next to Emily. It had been uncomfortable the first time, when she had been afraid. She knew Emily wouldn’t touch her now. She thought, perhaps, Emily wouldn’t even want to. It was exhausting. Emily didn’t curl into her like she usually did. She stayed stiff on the edge of the futon, and Emma doubted she was asleep. Emma couldn’t relax. She shifted, rolling over once, rolling over again. Maybe she could annoy Emily into snapping at her. That would be better, better than the endless, useless, meaningless hurt. Emily gave a wordless sigh. Maybe she was asleep. Emma lay there, staring at the soft smooth skin at the juncture of her neck and back, hair bound up in a sloppy loop above it. She lay there for a long time.
Emily was hovering over her, her eyes intent. “How can you just tease me? You always tease me, and sometimes it’s more than I can take, all right?”
Emma whimpered, hands were pressing her shoulders down into the futon. Emily’s breath brushed her ear. Her eyes were intent. She leaned down and kissed Emma, firmly, parting her lips with her tongue. The kiss burned through her, and Emma arched up, clinging to the back of her head, wanting more, wanting to be overtaken by it.
She awoke, sweating, pressed up against Emily, right on the edge of the bed. Emily was asleep. She looked sad even in her sleep. Her t-shirt and cotton shorts were half-ridden up, and Emma breathed hard, trying to slow it, trying to look away, trying not to want her. But she did. Her body was lanky and strong, smooth pale skin, her breasts slipped to the side, pushing against the thin cloth of the t-shirt.
Maybe soon, maybe soon she’d figure out how to do this. Maybe soon there would be a way to un-fuck everything up.
* * *
Work was a relief, better than being around Emma, reminded every day of that careless way she had held her, and told her that she was nothing. Everyone hated her at work, but it was better than the ugly feeling of desiring someone who thought of you as family, of someone who was there to do her work, and when it was done, would walk away.
The flickering of a foreign tongue, translation, repetition, checking. Other people’s words, other lives other voices, better to have them in her head than her own.
She had wanted more than this once. She had wanted to change the world, and been slapped in the face with the impossibility of it. Now she wanted something else, and it was just as impossible.
“Hey, Prentiss.” Emily looked up. “You’ve got some colloquial Arabic, right? What kind?”
“Egyptian,” she said. “Cairo. Also some Levantine.”
“It’ll do. Come on. Agent Pierce needs a translator.”
“O-okay.”
* * *
“Just get me out of here. I don’t want to be here anymore.” Emily couldn’t breathe, she didn’t want to breathe the stench of cleaners, the stench of death. The smoke and burnt flesh already clotted her nose, and she couldn’t see anything else, anything but bone and pus and lesions.
“Now, Ms. Prentiss, we have to be certain you can manage your pain.”
“I don’t want to be here!”
“Emily!” Emily turned. Emma was running down the hall towards her, sneakers squeaking like a sprinter’s on the linoleum. Her short hair swung, lashing her face, and Emily didn’t want to see her here. She didn’t want her here. Anywhere else, not here. “Are you all right? They called, and I took your car, and I don’t even have a license, but I wasn’t taking the bus, and, oh my god.”
Emily stared at her. Her eyes burned hot and sharp with tears. She whimpered and put out her good arm. Emma stared at her, surprise bright on her face, but she slid in, dropping a knee onto the chair beside her bed and wrapped her arms carefully around Emily, pulling her in close.
“Are you okay? What happened?” Her fingers ran lightly up the bandages that coated her right arm, and then touched almost feather-light on the two or three white strips of sticking plaster on her face.
“Who- who are you?” the doctor asked, he sounded a little shocked. Emily just buried her face in Emma’s shirt. “Are you family?”
“I want to go home,” Emily murmured. Her voice came out wobbly and Emma tightened her grip. She glared over her shoulder at the doctor.
“I’m here to bring her home. Now just tell me what I have to do to get her out of here.”
“Her pain management-“ The doctor tried again, waving his clipboard indecisively.
“Are you in pain?”
Emily shook her head, lower lip half stuck out. Emma gazed at her, an odd look on her face, then she smiled faintly and petted her hair. “You look so much like Didi when you pout. Don’t cry. Why are you crying?”
“I hate hospitals, I want to go home.”
“We’ll be out of here in a minute, don’t worry.”
“Miss…” the doctor looked distressed at this promise. “The burns are pretty severe, and she-”
“She refused opiates? What are you giving her? I’ll take care of it.”
“Who are you?”
“I-” Emily burrowed into her shoulder. Emma pressed a hand to the back of her head. “I’m her girlfriend.” Emily froze. Some lie, always a lie, but not this one.
The doctor’s face twisted. “Look, legally, I really-“
Suddenly the press of Emma’s hand felt like a steel block. “Are you disrespecting us?” Emma’s voice was furious. “Are you really, seriously, telling me I can’t take her home? If I said I was her roommate would you let me take her home? Her sister-in-law? Just let her go! You’re a doctor, not some sort of prison warden!”
A large disapproving nurse bustled over, staring pointedly. “Are we having problems? Do you need me to call an orderly?”
“I need someone who isn’t an idiot!” Emma flashed a glare around at everyone equally. “Emily wants to go home, and as far as I can tell, there’s no reason to keep her here any longer, so just sign the bloody release papers and I’ll take her home!”
The nurse frowned and plucked the clipboard from the doctor’s hand. She ran down it, then fixed Emily with a sharp look. “Did the doctor explain how to treat the burns?”
Emily nodded weakly.
“And the amount of pain you’re in, from one to ten?”
“Three,” Emily offered. The pain was nothing really, not compared to everything else, to the fear and pressure of being here. But Emma’s hand was warm on her back, and she wasn’t supposed to be grateful, but it made things so much better.
“Do you think you’ll be able to sleep?”
Emily nodded. Not here though, never here.
“Sleep on your good side, and you-“ she looked at Emma. “You curl up right behind her so she doesn’t roll over.” She pulled off the prescription and handed it to Emma. “No more than four a day, each with a glass of milk.” She scanned down the sheet. “And… you’re coming in for a psych-eval in a week. Any warning signs,” she handed Emma a sheet of behaviors to look out for, “you bring her right in. It’s not worth the risk to wait and see.”
Emily flinched, looking down. Emma nodded, a little bewildered.
The nurse signed the sheet. “Okay, we’ll get you a wheelchair and you can go.”
Emily didn’t protest being loaded into the chair, which was more worrying than anything after the phone call, and Emma pushed her down the hall, dogged by an orderly, and into the elevator to the parking levels.
They got to the car and Emma reached out. “You need help?”
Emily shook her head and shakily climbed out of the chair herself, pushing up off her good arm. Emma reached out to steady her and Emily looked up into her eyes, her expression dark and hurting. “Thanks for coming to my rescue.”
Emma sank. It was too much. This was too upsetting. “Don’t do this to me.” She couldn’t bear it, Emily being hurt. Worse, there was really nothing selfish about it. If Emily got herself killed, then Emma was up a creek with a small child and no canoe, but it hardly mattered in comparison to it being Emily. She needed Emily. She couldn’t imagine… She shook her head. “Don’t do this.” Then she cupped the back of Emily’s head, stepped in, and kissed her. Emily sank into her, bodies meshing, and kissed back, it felt desperate, like it was the last kiss, and Emma couldn’t bear it. She jerked away.
“Shit!” She pressed her palms against her eyes.
“Let’s just go.”
Emma nodded, not looking back.
Emily climbed gingerly into the car, sinking back into the seat, the pain obvious on her face. Emma slid into the driver’s side and busied herself putting the key in, and watching the orderly hustle away with the chair in the rearview mirror. If she didn’t watch she wouldn’t try to help, and she wouldn’t feel sick with every twinge of pain on Emily’s face.
“What happened?” Emma asked, frowning as she found the clutch with her left foot, and started the car. She jerked the shift around into reverse and let out the clutch. The car died.
“You can’t drive stick, can you?”
Emma scowled, not looking over. “I got here, didn’t I?”
“You need more gas.”
Jerkily, Emma managed to get them out of the hospital parking lot and onto the highway. The worst of the shifting was over then.
“You still didn’t tell me what happened.” She looked then, and wished she hadn’t. Emily’s eyes were dark and didn’t seem to be seeing the world in front of her. She looked down at her hands, turning the burnt one over and over.
“He blew up.”
“What?”
“The guy I was supposed to be interpreting for, he blew himself up. He was shouting it, screaming really. I just grabbed the Agent I was with and ran. He turned into a fireball. I don’t have any idea what he used, but it was…”
“Shit,” Emma hissed the word.
“It was the worst thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I’ve seen a lot of crappy things, but nothing like that.”
“The agent you were with?”
“Concussion, superficial burns. I took more of a direct hit.”
Emma turned on her, furious. “You’re a translator, you’re not supposed to throw yourself in the line of fire!” She jerked at the gear shift. The car groaned horribly, ground to a stop and died.
“Uh, I don’t have six gears, that’s reverse.”
Emma slapped her. Cars honked behind them and swerved around the green volkswagon hatchback.
Stunned, Emily sat back in the seat, staring at her. “What?”
“Don’t you ever do anything like that again!”
“Emma…”
“I need you! I need you, and Didi needs you, and I can’t take you being a hero. I don’t want to say I knew a dead hero, I just want you.”
Emily didn’t say anything for a moment. She looked away. “You said you didn’t.”
Emma stared at her. “That’s what I said? That’s what I said that’s been making you act like I throttled your kitten?”
“You don’t remember?”
“I was kind of shitfaced.”
“You said you didn’t want me.” She sounded like Emma had broken her heart.
“I meant I wasn’t ready to sleep with you yet!”
Emily gaped.
“That’s all! It’s about me; it’s about my issues. It doesn’t have anything to do with you. But if you get all depressed and then try and go get yourself killed, I won’t be okay.” The words came bitterly and honestly. But they knew Didi would leave. Emily was all she had. “I lose everyone I love, to their own hand sometimes, and I can’t… I can’t lose you. Not right now.”
She couldn’t look over, just shifted into first and restarted the car.
“I’m sorry.”
She ground the gears a few times downshifting as she left the highway. Their street wasn’t far. She dared a glance. Emily was gazing out the window, not seeming to see the trees or parked cars, looking injured and tired, but not a wreck like before.
“You were a mess in the hospital.”
“I hate hospitals.” Her words were quiet, and she didn't look at Emma as she spoke. “A couple years ago my best friend from high-school died of AIDS. I spent months in his room, watching him go.”
“Oh.” Was that one of those secrets she kept so close? Maybe it was.
Emily glanced over at her, watching as she parked in front of their house, a weak smile on her face. “I guess you know now, how I felt when you had to get that blood test.”
Emma turned the key, the car quieting, and stared at her. It was different, in a way, the expectation of lingering misery, versus this: a sudden blow out of nowhere. It wasn’t okay. None of this was okay.
Emma smacked Emily’s good shoulder. “Keep it in mind, jerk. No more fucking explosions.”