The crisp fall air danced around JJ as she walked briskly across the street, gun in hand. The unsub was on the move yet Emily could only focus on her and her golden locks. She wished she could tell her how beautiful she looked but she couldn’t seem to find the words.
Three shots ringed out and JJ took of into a dead sprint, Emily followed in suit. Morgan had his hands over the man lying on the street. They could already here sirens getting closer, even if the man had hurt so many others it seemed cruel to wish death upon him. No one deserves to be swallowed by the darkness and stripped of everything you once knew.
“Morgan, where’s Hotch?” JJ and Derek talked quietly to one another while Emily stood off to JJ’s side. She was all to wrapped up in the world around her to even try to speak.
The case wrapped up fairly quickly after they caught the unsub, everyone packed up and left for the jet. Reid sat across from JJ and Emily, sleeping peacefully for once. The blonde was preoccupied by watching the city below them, pass by. Her eyes glistened in the small book light Reid had left on. Her eyes almost look glazed over like she had been crying, why would someone so perfect need to cry about?
Her cheeks had a slight twinge of pink, just enough to know she was still living. Emily so desperately wanted to reach out, to cuddle up to her and fall into sleep unplagued by nightmares.
She knows she’ll never be able to, all she can do is watch from the shadows and wonder what i’d be like to indulge in her fantasies. Emily can dream all she wants that she’ll catch JJ’s eye someday but if she’d ever listen to reality she would know truth is far grimmer. Reality always seems worse for the ones who live in their heads.
Even if Emily yelled at the top of her lungs, JJ’s head wouldn’t even flinch in her direction.
Hours drift by of Emily wordlessly staring at her, Jennifer had fallen asleep earlier and only awoke as Spencer stirred. They got up together yet Reid and JJ just walked straight through her, Emily’s small sliver of a smile turned into a pained one. Once again none of her yells reached the two, she walked as fast as she could to catch up.
Her pace was almost a run but out fear of judgement she could never commit fully, even if broke out into a sprint it wasn’t like anyone would take notice.
JJ didn’t even bother to go back to the office, she slipped into her own SUV with Emily in the passenger seat. As always the car was silent except for the small hum of the engine. Even with no music JJ taps her hands to the rhythm of her own song.
No one ever knows what JJ plays in her head but Emily seemed to pin point it after a certain case. When the team was trying to track down the “Piano Man” JJ mentioned that she used to listen to “Rage Against The Machines”, once she did Emily’s plans were set in stone. When Emily was younger she listened to her fair share of metal but that didn’t stop her from binging every song the band had ever recorded.
She had stayed up all night and danced around to the bands hits of the 90s. She could imagine JJ was with her, letting her hips sway.
Maybe it was silly to listen to all the songs a band has just to feel closer to the women you so desperately want to be with. Even if she can’t tell her that she knows her hands are drumming to the beat of “Maria” she can enjoy the small quirks of the women before her, even more. Emily is pulled out of her thoughts when JJ’s door slams shut, the hum and the tapping had stopped. She finds herself gravitating towards the other women as she makes her way farther away from the car.
The blonde women’s steps quicken when they pass the gate they both know all to well. Flowers, fresh and withered line the path to their destination. Eventually the shorter women abruptly letting Emily faze through her and come face to face with her own headstone. Fidelity, bravery and integrity read out, her eulogy still blares in her head.
Oh how it hurts to never be held by her again. To watch her sob and gasp for air above your grave as Emily’s body decays below. Oh, how it hurts to never be able to reach out, hold her dear and let her know she’s watching.
She’s not a women anymore but a ghost of one.