M-Day
Title: M-Day
Author: Alsike
Fandom: X-Men/Criminal Minds x-over
Pairing: Emma Frost/Emily Prentiss
Rating: PG-13
AN/Disclaimer: Not my girls.
Word Count: 1115
Apologies: This was one of the first things I ever wrote for them. It basically encapsulates my entire sense of their relationship. In all it's lovely angst.
It's kind of heavily tied to X-Men canon, except I hate what happened on M-Day, basically, they ruined the whole lovely social resonance aspect and are weirdly repositioning mutants as the master race, so... I didn't go with that. For one, I don't know if Emma would have stayed with the X-Men if they didn't have a school, (especially if she had to work with Storm) and I don't think she would have just sent horribly traumatized children home. But I like to fuck with canon, so, whatever: there are still mutants after M-Day.
It had been so hard to return to Genosha, especially on a mission to kill. Genosha was a place of pain, loss, tragedy, desperate unexpected sublimity. Killing had no place there. But it was harder still to be back, knowing what had been lost.
“Was it bad?”
Emma didn’t know why she had come to Washington DC, but after the Blackbird landed she had informed Scott that she had business to take care of in the capital, and she would make her own way back to the school from there. She had no business. She had found herself in front of Emily’s door, wondering, that if her ring was not answered, whether she would lose enough of her sense of propriety to lean against it, take what support she could from hard wood.
But Emily had opened the door, seeing something in her face that no one else could, and let her in, even after what had been said the last time they had parted, even after the words said every time they parted, insensitive, cold, degrading.
Emma leaned back into the plush sofa. It felt too familiar. She cursed her unconscious for letting reality seep into Wanda’s manufactured dreams.
“It was strange, unsettling. Wanda… Wanda gave us all we had ever wanted.” She had given it to the entire world, but only the ones who destroyed it could remember. A fitting curse from the Scarlet Witch.
“What…” Emily turned from where she poured libations to the god of suffering, and glanced at her, her eyes, always seeming on the verge of tears even when a wide grin ate up her face, were even darker, more pained than usual. Emma wanted to call her over to sit on her lap like she would have done in that fantasy, and felt sick for how much she wished that it were real. “What did you see?”
What a question. Emma closed her eyes. “I was a counselor, and a teacher, in a school.” There were so many things she couldn’t bring herself to say, banal, simple things like, ‘I was with you.’ “It was so strange, being able to exist, even for half a day, without living with the things I’ve done, mistakes I’ve made, people I’ve lost. You don’t… realize how much these things have destroyed you, until suddenly, for a moment, they’re gone.”
“How do you feel about that?”
Emma laughed suddenly, so hard, and then harder at the bewildered surprise on Emily’s face. “Have you ever thought about being a shrink?”
Emily snorted. “I have enough issues of my own, thank you.”
“Yes.” Emma closed her eyes. They had both been different, cleansed. “She changed the whole world. She changed the world into a better place, some kind of immediate heaven, and we changed it back.” She felt the tears come and heard Emily’s hiss of breath, unsure of what to do. “We changed it back.”
Suddenly her arms were full of warmth, and she buried her face into Emily’s shoulder letting the tears come, and letting herself, just for a moment, believe that she could find the same sort of happiness here.
--
The door of the two-story Victorian swung open and Emma stepped inside, tossing her tan jacket over a chair.
“I’m home!” she called. There was no response. She dropped her bag in the kitchen and looked into the living room, spotting her daughter curled up on the couch watching TV. “I’m home.”
“I heard the first time.”
“You little brat.”
The girl smirked. Hair as dark as ebony and crystal blue eyes, she was angel on the outside and devil on the inside, as was to be expected from her genetic makeup. Emma snagged her girl around the waist and pulled her on top as they fell in a heap on the couch. “Hey!”
“Hey? I didn’t even get a ‘welcome home’!”
“Welcome home, m’ma.” She wrapped her mother up in a hug.
“I don’t approve. You’re not allowed to get old enough to resent us yet.”
The brat wrinkled her nose.
“What's going on?” Emily wandered in, looking for something, and frowning at a stack of notes as she walked.
“Our baby is becoming a stroppy teenager.”
Emily smiled and tousled the brat’s hair. “Oh, not for a while yet.” She bent down as Emma propped herself up to find a kiss, open mouthed, a brush of tongue.
“Eww! Why do you have to kiss like that?”
They laughed. Emma growled a little and kissed Emily’s neck. “Be careful honey, or you’ll be exposed to some early adult education.”
Their daughter cringed and jumped off the couch. “I’m going upstairs to watch TV in your room! For one hour! And then you had better be decent!”
Emma pulled Emily down to straddle her legs. “A reprieve.”
“You started it.”
“Maybe,” Emma’s hands slid under her shirt and rested on the warm skin of her waist. “But I’m definitely starting this.”
“Starting what?” Emily asked, putting her notes safely on the floor and grinding gently into her.
“Oh, nothing.” Emma had unclipped her bra and was enjoying the result. “How was your day, darling?”
“Fine.” Emily stiffened at one particular touch, her back arching involuntarily. “Peter begged me to take another couple though.”
“Are they bad?”
“Terrible. Ten minutes in I wanted to ask, if you don’t even like each other, why did you think to get married in the first place?”
“Did you give them the key to a strong relationship?”
“What’s that?”
Emma flipped Emily onto her back and began phase 2. “Lots and lots of hot sex.”
--
Emma opened her eyes and saw Emily above her, her fingers on her temples and hot tears running down her cheeks.
“You saw?”
“I remember.”
Emma had never wished that burden on her. They could never have that kind of peace. Whatever potential Wanda had seen, to become those women, was long since dead. The stunted, involuntary lust that Emma found herself giving into over and over again was all she had to offer. Honest affection was beyond her. Emily was warmth and weight and safety, heavy on her shoulder. But Emily had sadness she couldn’t fix. For both of them, the jigsaw puzzle parts that allowed them to find wholeness wrapped up in another person had long since been burnt away.
“You came home,” Emily whispered in her ear, and Emma tightened her arms around her. Home. She could almost remember knowing what that word meant.
Perhaps she would let herself pretend for a moment, for a night. But when she left, it would be like she had never come.
It was better to carry it alone.
#
Author: Alsike
Fandom: X-Men/Criminal Minds x-over
Pairing: Emma Frost/Emily Prentiss
Rating: PG-13
AN/Disclaimer: Not my girls.
Word Count: 1115
Apologies: This was one of the first things I ever wrote for them. It basically encapsulates my entire sense of their relationship. In all it's lovely angst.
It's kind of heavily tied to X-Men canon, except I hate what happened on M-Day, basically, they ruined the whole lovely social resonance aspect and are weirdly repositioning mutants as the master race, so... I didn't go with that. For one, I don't know if Emma would have stayed with the X-Men if they didn't have a school, (especially if she had to work with Storm) and I don't think she would have just sent horribly traumatized children home. But I like to fuck with canon, so, whatever: there are still mutants after M-Day.
It had been so hard to return to Genosha, especially on a mission to kill. Genosha was a place of pain, loss, tragedy, desperate unexpected sublimity. Killing had no place there. But it was harder still to be back, knowing what had been lost.
“Was it bad?”
Emma didn’t know why she had come to Washington DC, but after the Blackbird landed she had informed Scott that she had business to take care of in the capital, and she would make her own way back to the school from there. She had no business. She had found herself in front of Emily’s door, wondering, that if her ring was not answered, whether she would lose enough of her sense of propriety to lean against it, take what support she could from hard wood.
But Emily had opened the door, seeing something in her face that no one else could, and let her in, even after what had been said the last time they had parted, even after the words said every time they parted, insensitive, cold, degrading.
Emma leaned back into the plush sofa. It felt too familiar. She cursed her unconscious for letting reality seep into Wanda’s manufactured dreams.
“It was strange, unsettling. Wanda… Wanda gave us all we had ever wanted.” She had given it to the entire world, but only the ones who destroyed it could remember. A fitting curse from the Scarlet Witch.
“What…” Emily turned from where she poured libations to the god of suffering, and glanced at her, her eyes, always seeming on the verge of tears even when a wide grin ate up her face, were even darker, more pained than usual. Emma wanted to call her over to sit on her lap like she would have done in that fantasy, and felt sick for how much she wished that it were real. “What did you see?”
What a question. Emma closed her eyes. “I was a counselor, and a teacher, in a school.” There were so many things she couldn’t bring herself to say, banal, simple things like, ‘I was with you.’ “It was so strange, being able to exist, even for half a day, without living with the things I’ve done, mistakes I’ve made, people I’ve lost. You don’t… realize how much these things have destroyed you, until suddenly, for a moment, they’re gone.”
“How do you feel about that?”
Emma laughed suddenly, so hard, and then harder at the bewildered surprise on Emily’s face. “Have you ever thought about being a shrink?”
Emily snorted. “I have enough issues of my own, thank you.”
“Yes.” Emma closed her eyes. They had both been different, cleansed. “She changed the whole world. She changed the world into a better place, some kind of immediate heaven, and we changed it back.” She felt the tears come and heard Emily’s hiss of breath, unsure of what to do. “We changed it back.”
Suddenly her arms were full of warmth, and she buried her face into Emily’s shoulder letting the tears come, and letting herself, just for a moment, believe that she could find the same sort of happiness here.
--
The door of the two-story Victorian swung open and Emma stepped inside, tossing her tan jacket over a chair.
“I’m home!” she called. There was no response. She dropped her bag in the kitchen and looked into the living room, spotting her daughter curled up on the couch watching TV. “I’m home.”
“I heard the first time.”
“You little brat.”
The girl smirked. Hair as dark as ebony and crystal blue eyes, she was angel on the outside and devil on the inside, as was to be expected from her genetic makeup. Emma snagged her girl around the waist and pulled her on top as they fell in a heap on the couch. “Hey!”
“Hey? I didn’t even get a ‘welcome home’!”
“Welcome home, m’ma.” She wrapped her mother up in a hug.
“I don’t approve. You’re not allowed to get old enough to resent us yet.”
The brat wrinkled her nose.
“What's going on?” Emily wandered in, looking for something, and frowning at a stack of notes as she walked.
“Our baby is becoming a stroppy teenager.”
Emily smiled and tousled the brat’s hair. “Oh, not for a while yet.” She bent down as Emma propped herself up to find a kiss, open mouthed, a brush of tongue.
“Eww! Why do you have to kiss like that?”
They laughed. Emma growled a little and kissed Emily’s neck. “Be careful honey, or you’ll be exposed to some early adult education.”
Their daughter cringed and jumped off the couch. “I’m going upstairs to watch TV in your room! For one hour! And then you had better be decent!”
Emma pulled Emily down to straddle her legs. “A reprieve.”
“You started it.”
“Maybe,” Emma’s hands slid under her shirt and rested on the warm skin of her waist. “But I’m definitely starting this.”
“Starting what?” Emily asked, putting her notes safely on the floor and grinding gently into her.
“Oh, nothing.” Emma had unclipped her bra and was enjoying the result. “How was your day, darling?”
“Fine.” Emily stiffened at one particular touch, her back arching involuntarily. “Peter begged me to take another couple though.”
“Are they bad?”
“Terrible. Ten minutes in I wanted to ask, if you don’t even like each other, why did you think to get married in the first place?”
“Did you give them the key to a strong relationship?”
“What’s that?”
Emma flipped Emily onto her back and began phase 2. “Lots and lots of hot sex.”
--
Emma opened her eyes and saw Emily above her, her fingers on her temples and hot tears running down her cheeks.
“You saw?”
“I remember.”
Emma had never wished that burden on her. They could never have that kind of peace. Whatever potential Wanda had seen, to become those women, was long since dead. The stunted, involuntary lust that Emma found herself giving into over and over again was all she had to offer. Honest affection was beyond her. Emily was warmth and weight and safety, heavy on her shoulder. But Emily had sadness she couldn’t fix. For both of them, the jigsaw puzzle parts that allowed them to find wholeness wrapped up in another person had long since been burnt away.
“You came home,” Emily whispered in her ear, and Emma tightened her arms around her. Home. She could almost remember knowing what that word meant.
Perhaps she would let herself pretend for a moment, for a night. But when she left, it would be like she had never come.
It was better to carry it alone.
#