Coming home? [Spoiler Staffel 7]

in Fanfiction englisch 25.01.2012 00:41
von AnnKa • 530 Beiträge

Titel: Coming home?
Autor: AnnKa
Teile eine in sich abgeschlossene FF, aber Fortsetztungen sind nicht ausgeschlossen
Pairing: Emily/Derek Friendship(Freundschaft)
Rating: P12
Disclaimer: Leider nichts davon ist meins.
Warning: Wie gesagt Spoiler fuer die erste Folge von Staffel 7 und alles was danach kommt.
Anmerkungen: Gebt Feedback hier im Thema, da es keine Fortsetztungen geben wird.

Coming home?

It was late in Washington DC. Most people were probably asleep or at least at home with their loved ones. It was the time for cuddling, hot chocolate and a good movie. Not so much for pointless staring at files. But that was exactly what Emily was doing right now.

She was sick of staying in hotel rooms and none of the apartments she had looked at earlier were anything close to what she wanted. JJ, as well as Penelope, had offered her the opportunity to stay at their places, but the brunette knew that that wasn't where she belonged. JJ had her little boy and Will. She was already working too many hours and she shouldn't have to bring work or colleagues home at night. And Garcia? Emily smiled softly. Garcia needed a break as well; she needed Kevin's arms and hot chocolate, not more things to worry about concerning her friends.

She sighed and opened another file, pretending to read it. Emily had decided to try to catch up on what had gone on in her friends’ lives for the past seven months. She had grabbed some of their case files and was now desperately trying to process. Knowing what they had worked on while she was gone gave her a strange sense of not having missed out as much. But the files were limited, they didn't list their interactions. They didn't say when Garcia accidently called Hotch “sweetheart.” It didn't tell her anything about Reid's babbling and she couldn't read Morgan's mind ‘clearing’ a house, while she had his back.

Her friends were mad at her for pretending to be dead, but Emily doubted that any of them had an idea of what the whole situation had done to her. While they had lost one close friend— which was, for sure, bad enough—she had lost six of them. She had lost her entire family, her life. All that she had left was the fear that Doyle would find out that she was alive and come for her. And none of them would have ever known. She hadn’t made any friends and for her old friends she was dead. Tears filled her eyes at the memories and she leaned back in her chair fighting them. In her mind she saw Reid in his chair concentrating on a book, while Rossi and Morgan exchanged some old case details.

Seaver shook her rapidly in her sleep. "Find some other place to sleep. This is my desk." Emily blinked at her, but moved out of the chair. Still sleepy, she realized that the team was working a case. Why didn't they wake her up for the debriefing? She listened, concentrating to make up what she had already missed.

"We have a plane to catch, so let's be fast."

Why was Hotch down here in their little desk area, he could have told them in the conference room? She rolled her eyes as Morgan looked at her, to show him her amusement. But he didn't react; instead, he addressed Seaver behind her.

"What did you say the case’s reminded you of?"

Promptly, after her answer, Reid gave a not so brief explanation of those old files, which he had magically memorized. She laughed as she listened to him and then turned as a blond figure appeared next to her.

"JJ, you are back!"

She couldn't hide the excitement in her voice as she moved to hug her teammate. But the blonde didn't even react, instead going for her bag.

"We have to leave," JJ said sternly.

With that she turned and marched off, the team behind her.

"What about me?" Emily asked, looking to the departing team, her voice shaking as finally their eyes seemed to see her.

"Who are you anyway? I didn't know we allowed visitors in the offices," Morgan replied in wonder.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she watched the team leave. They had forgotten her; they had moved on and they didn't want her anymore. It seemed that they didn't even need her. The tears started running down her cheeks as she stared at the closed elevator doors. How could she have expected to stay a part of their lives, after all she had put them through?


The agent woke from her sleep and tried to understand where she was. The office was dark save for a few security lights. Wiping at her face to rub the sleep out of her, she felt the wetness on her chin where the warm tears had dripped. She found Morgan kneeling next to her, looking at her with worried eyes. How did he get here? Everyone else was home, enjoying their free time. Of course, she knew he was going to ask her the exact same thing, so she prepared herself for a good answer. But as usual, when she really needed it, nothing came to mind. She was tired of lying.

It really surprised her, when Morgan didn't ask at all. He simply crouched in front of her and seemed to try to read her. That didn't exactly make the situation better, because he knew how to interpret certain things about her.

"Where are you staying?" he finally asked, and again it wasn't at all what she had expected him to say at this point; maybe after a longer conversation, but not the first thing.

She tried to think of a hotel she had looked up earlier, but couldn't think of any. "That's what I thought." His voice didn't show anger or any other emotion she would have expected. Instead, he grabbed her traveling bag.

"What are you doing?" she asked, almost alarmed at his actions. She was pretty sure she knew what he was up to and she wasn’t quite sure she liked it.

"Making sure you get some proper sleep tonight. Come on."

With that he walked to the elevator, giving her no chance to protest.

A few minutes later, he guided her to his car—yet, another thing she hadn't gotten around to buy— and closed the door behind her. There was the slightest tension between them, but she wasn't sure which feelings between them were causing this.

"What were you doing at the office?" She finally got herself to break the silence. The Afro-American didn't answer immediately which led her to take a look at him. To her surprise he had a grin on his lips. "What?"

She gave him a glare.

"Asks the person who was sleeping on her desk…"

He wanted to bring up her obvious nightmare, but decided she would explain her tears when she was ready. She grimaced and was about to avoid the questioning, when he continued, "I'm used to staying long hours. It was the only time when I could search for Doyle without people asking questions." He glanced at her to gauge her reaction to that. "Although, that isn’t really an excuse anymore…"

The truth was he had been waiting for her to leave. When he’d finally stepped out of his office, being one of the last as usual, he had spotted her surrounded by files. For the longest time, he had stood there, watching her, until, finally, he decided to return to his office to wait her out. He was curious as to how long she would stay. He had a feeling that she wouldn't leave for a while.

"Are you going to tell me what you were doing?" he asked her in return. He could see Emily tensing out of the corner of his eye. She’d opened up to him once, been his friends, but that seemed to be gone now, and he had a feeling it would take a while to get back. When she didn't answer he kept quiet, trying to give her time. He was worried, but if he forced her to answer that would make it even worse.

At his place, he led her upstairs to the little guestroom. "It's not much," he said modestly. He brought out some sheets from the closet and started to put them on the bed.
"Better than a desk, that’s for sure," Emily replied. Derek stopped and turned at her joke. "What? It's not like you haven't heard me joking before…" she added, reading his thoughts.
She liked the tiny room. After all the hotel rooms she’d been in, this was exactly what she would consider a home. She moved to her bag that Derek had placed on the floor next to the bed and rummaged through it to find some cloths to sleep in. Most of her clothes were somewhere in storage or in a lost suitcase somewhere in the world.
She pulled out and placed her grey sweat pants and pink t-shirt on the dresser and watched her colleague finish up.

"Well, you better get some rest." He threw the pillows back on the bed and turned to leave the room.
"Derek?" He had the door almost closed when she spoke up again.
He stepped back in, looking at her expectantly. "Thank you." It was no more than a whisper and she had to fight hard to keep going. "I'm sick of hotel rooms. I mean, JJ and Penelope offered to let me stay with them, but they have other priorities. You probably do, too."
She took a breath, before bringing up the topic that seemed to hang between them. "I'm sorry for letting you down. I never wanted any of you to get hurt in this; that's why I ran and then I ended up being the one hurting all of you. I’m sorry."
Tears were welling up in her eyes, again and she tried, desperately, to blink them away. Derek stood next to the door unsure what to do. When she lost her fight against the tears, he moved forward and pulled her into his arms.
"It's okay." When the words slipped through his lips he knew it was the truth. He was okay with the situation. It still hurt, sure; especially when he thought about her, supposedly, dying in his arms. But, he had to remind himself that this was the one ‘death’ in his life that he was able to get a second chance at. She was back. Right here, in his arms; he felt as heartbroken as he had when she had been fighting for her life in his arms. After her sobbing calmed down, he guided them to the bed and sat down. One arm still around her shoulders, he tried to read her expression. Finally, he gave up since he felt like he didn't know anything about her anymore.
"What were you dreaming about?" he asked quietly, hoping that he didn't cross the thin line between them.
Her arms instinctively crossed in front of her chest, a gesture that he interpreted as self-preservation.
"It's okay. I don't have to know," he offered; however, she shook her head, indicating that she just needed a little more time.
So he waited, still holding her. His hand moved gently up and down her arm and he stared at the wall.
"It was never my decision to be dead. I was buried by the time I found out," she broke off, searching for the right words. "But, I still felt guilty for leaving all of you. Not saying goodbye… I started to wonder what you were all doing while I was hiding in Spain. I wondered who my replacement was… I missed you guys…" Again, tears filled her eyes; though, this time, she didn't even try to hide them. "At some point, I was sure everyone would forget about me. That’s when I started having those dreams, where I was back in the BAU and nobody would recognize me. In some, I was even invisible…" The tears were running down her cheeks and now that she was aware of them, she tried to wipe them off. "With all that I had done to you—abusing your trust, hurting you so badly—I supposed that I didn't deserve any better than that, being forgotten."

Derek continued to sit next to her, quiet during her explanation. With her last sentence, he automatically tightened his grip around her shoulders. How could she even think that any of them would want to forget about her?
"You weren't replaced. Seaver was JJ’s replacement and, well, JJ just came home." He shot her a look and then decided to break the tension. "Plus, how could I forget you, when they kept sending me into the field with Reid, babbling behind me, instead of simply being where I needed him to be." He grinned as she lifted her eyes to look at him. "I sure hope you still know how to do that." Morgan continued to grin and finally the slightest smile showed on Emily's lips. "None of us would ever have forgotten you. No matter how dumb it was to run in an attempt to protect us."
She nodded slightly and kept quiet. Although it felt good to feel his arm around her, she still couldn't shake the feeling of loneliness away.

After sitting there silently for what only felt like minutes he noticed her head slowly sinking on her shoulder. At first she seemed to fight it, bringing it back up a couple of times, not saying a word while doing so. He smiled, when it finally came to rest on his shoulder. For the longest time he sat there listening to her even breathing. Her breathing was defiantly one of the things he hadn't expected to hear again. Finally, he had to fight falling asleep himself and he carefully turned with Emily still in his arms so that he could lay her on the bed. Spreading a light blanket over her, he left the room.

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