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thefroggTitle: Unwanted Resources
Series: Of Innocence and Empathy
Author: Frogg
Beta:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fluffnutter
Rating: FRT-13
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Damnit.
Author's Note: Occurs immediately after Earnest Appreciation (part 3). Flashbacks in italics.
Static filled Emily's mind, the conference room going shades of washed out grey before her eyes, her teammates' voices echoing oddly from a distance. Half aware of the concerned glances, the tolerant ignorance of her unexplained silence, she listened as Garcia laid out price ranges and possible sources for the flowers
"--a hundred and fifty to two hundred for the vase--"
"Beware of gifts - they're always courtship, bribes, or apology."
"Or all three," she replied, her child's voice high and too serious.
"Or all three," her mother agreed.
Breath caught in her throat as she banished the memory, reaching out to pick up the Swarovski box. Her hands dug under the flap, pulling it open, the styrofoam packing ejected like an over-large sugar cube to split open and leave crumbs across the table. The polished granite was cool and soothing under her fingers, her nails tracing the crystal facets in time to Reid's explanation of traditional meanings behind the roses and baby's breath and ferns.
"--white rosebuds signified girlhood, while white roses were for innocence, purity, secrecy, silence, and charm, depending on the source--"
'white roses and ferns and baby's breath, innocence and fascination and sincerity and shelter - god DAMN where's my shelter you bastard--' Emily thought to herself, trying to drown the words with the roaring in her ears, to bolster defenses that had lasted two decades only to be chipped away now when she had things to lose. She was too close, too attached; the walls she had built strong and thick had grown worn, thin in places, letting the murk of her past to threaten.
Those walls were under attack now, from a few gifts and her partner's fear.
"--top of its food chain. It's a symbol of power, maybe he's putting the ball in her court?"
Morgan's voice became the demon inside, lashing out with one massive paw; the last time she'd been this close to the edge--
"I don't know what happened to you to make you close yourself off."
'I had to! I had to, I didn't have a choice, I wasn't given one!' Fingers tightened on cyrstal. A nail skidded across, squealing; quiet fell, a trading of worried glances and the sudden return of talk, discussion flowing around her.
"--tickets, season tickets to, uh, pretty much every major and minor league sports team within fifty miles, theater, symphony, opera--"
Everything hurt. Her limbs were weighed down with exhaustion. Each breath was a struggle. Light burned into her eyes. Monitors beeped.
What happened? Where am I?
She felt Morgan's gaze on her as he read the card aloud, her own eyes trained on her hands.
"--no longer have the privilege of knowing what you like. Still, I hope you can enjoy the use of some of these."
"I don't ever want to see him again." Her voice shook, wracked with pain and wheezing.
"Emily, you're making a mistake--"
"It's what I want."
"--whoever it is, is trying to apologize--"
"I look at you and I see Aaron, years ago, hurting and lonely and breaking."
She couldn't break, couldn't afford to. Breath shuddered in her lungs.
"Does the date mean anything to you?" Hotch's voice, soft and coaxing from a million miles away.
Her own, bland and bleeding, answering without her consent. "No."
'Liar!' the demon screamed, lashing out again, ripping at the protective barriers in her mind. The walls her team had taken hammer and axe to with words and worry.
"--someone hurt you?" Gideon then, already knowing the answer. Probably had since the day she joined the team.
"We can't afford to prosecute, Emily. It would be a political nightmare," her mother said, eyes filled with pained determination. "It could start a war." This was her job.
'It already has,' child-Emily didn't say.
"Emily?"
JJ's hand crept over hers, catching on styrofoam pellets, hot as a brand across ice-cold skin. She jerked back, granite thudding against the table, eyes snapping up to see Hotch watching her.
"We can't help you--"
"You're right," her demon interrupted, using her voice. She watched, listened, unable to hide from the flinching, the pain as her friends, her family recoiled. "You can't help me."
Then she was stumbling out the door, panther left behind as her chair bounced off the edge of the table, her hands biting into the stair rail.
~~~the end~~~
Series: Of Innocence and Empathy
Author: Frogg
Beta:
fluffnutter Rating: FRT-13
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Damnit.
Author's Note: Occurs immediately after Earnest Appreciation (part 3). Flashbacks in italics.
Static filled Emily's mind, the conference room going shades of washed out grey before her eyes, her teammates' voices echoing oddly from a distance. Half aware of the concerned glances, the tolerant ignorance of her unexplained silence, she listened as Garcia laid out price ranges and possible sources for the flowers
"--a hundred and fifty to two hundred for the vase--"
"Beware of gifts - they're always courtship, bribes, or apology."
"Or all three," she replied, her child's voice high and too serious.
"Or all three," her mother agreed.
Breath caught in her throat as she banished the memory, reaching out to pick up the Swarovski box. Her hands dug under the flap, pulling it open, the styrofoam packing ejected like an over-large sugar cube to split open and leave crumbs across the table. The polished granite was cool and soothing under her fingers, her nails tracing the crystal facets in time to Reid's explanation of traditional meanings behind the roses and baby's breath and ferns.
"--white rosebuds signified girlhood, while white roses were for innocence, purity, secrecy, silence, and charm, depending on the source--"
'white roses and ferns and baby's breath, innocence and fascination and sincerity and shelter - god DAMN where's my shelter you bastard--' Emily thought to herself, trying to drown the words with the roaring in her ears, to bolster defenses that had lasted two decades only to be chipped away now when she had things to lose. She was too close, too attached; the walls she had built strong and thick had grown worn, thin in places, letting the murk of her past to threaten.
Those walls were under attack now, from a few gifts and her partner's fear.
"--top of its food chain. It's a symbol of power, maybe he's putting the ball in her court?"
Morgan's voice became the demon inside, lashing out with one massive paw; the last time she'd been this close to the edge--
"I don't know what happened to you to make you close yourself off."
'I had to! I had to, I didn't have a choice, I wasn't given one!' Fingers tightened on cyrstal. A nail skidded across, squealing; quiet fell, a trading of worried glances and the sudden return of talk, discussion flowing around her.
"--tickets, season tickets to, uh, pretty much every major and minor league sports team within fifty miles, theater, symphony, opera--"
Everything hurt. Her limbs were weighed down with exhaustion. Each breath was a struggle. Light burned into her eyes. Monitors beeped.
What happened? Where am I?
She felt Morgan's gaze on her as he read the card aloud, her own eyes trained on her hands.
"--no longer have the privilege of knowing what you like. Still, I hope you can enjoy the use of some of these."
"I don't ever want to see him again." Her voice shook, wracked with pain and wheezing.
"Emily, you're making a mistake--"
"It's what I want."
"--whoever it is, is trying to apologize--"
"I look at you and I see Aaron, years ago, hurting and lonely and breaking."
She couldn't break, couldn't afford to. Breath shuddered in her lungs.
"Does the date mean anything to you?" Hotch's voice, soft and coaxing from a million miles away.
Her own, bland and bleeding, answering without her consent. "No."
'Liar!' the demon screamed, lashing out again, ripping at the protective barriers in her mind. The walls her team had taken hammer and axe to with words and worry.
"--someone hurt you?" Gideon then, already knowing the answer. Probably had since the day she joined the team.
"We can't afford to prosecute, Emily. It would be a political nightmare," her mother said, eyes filled with pained determination. "It could start a war." This was her job.
'It already has,' child-Emily didn't say.
"Emily?"
JJ's hand crept over hers, catching on styrofoam pellets, hot as a brand across ice-cold skin. She jerked back, granite thudding against the table, eyes snapping up to see Hotch watching her.
"We can't help you--"
"You're right," her demon interrupted, using her voice. She watched, listened, unable to hide from the flinching, the pain as her friends, her family recoiled. "You can't help me."
Then she was stumbling out the door, panther left behind as her chair bounced off the edge of the table, her hands biting into the stair rail.
Previous: Earnest Appreciation part 3 Next: Adapting Logic
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-02-13 11:33 am (UTC)well done!
no subject
Date: 2008-02-13 11:09 pm (UTC)*hands the note to Reid*
no subject
Date: 2008-02-18 02:10 am (UTC)