chapter sixty-seven // cigarette

771 19 62
                                    

JJ was making breakfast when you got up. You were looking for Emily. "She's on the deck. She's upset, but I don't know what about. She won't tell me. She said she had to talk to you first." You nodded, kissed a distracted Henry's head, and went out the sliding door to see your wife smoking a cigarette on the deck.

"That bad?" you asked her. She turned her head and was grateful it was you. "You only smoke when you're really stressed. What's got you like this, angel?" You massaged her shoulders. She took a drag before you looked in her face. She'd been crying. "Honey..."

"I'm sorry," she choked. "I'm so sorry." You hugged her, not ready to let go anytime soon, and she muffled her sobs in your sweatshirt.

She ensured the cigarette didn't touch you, putting it out. "Emily, what happened?" She let go of you and wiped her eyes on her sweater sleeve. "Aw, honey..."

"I don't know how to tell you..."

"You can tell me anything, Ems, you know that, sweetheart. What's wrong?"

"No, not...not like that, I just don't know how to break it..."

"Break what? Shh, it's okay, Em. Here." You hugged her and calmed her down. "Are you upset about the thing itself or how to tell me?"

"How to tell you,"

"Okay. You don't need to worry. I'm not gonna get upset no matter how you do it. You can just say it, baby, take your time. I'm here."

Emily took a few deep breaths. She was so worked up. "Your mom..."

"Oh, god," you muttered.

"She's dead."

You stared at her, unblinking and breathless. "After Lowell, Garcia knew your mom was a fucking bastard, she kept tabs. So you would know if anything happened. She didn't keep up with her but...she got an alert that a record had been updated that she hadn't filtered out like credit cards, bills, y'know..." You nodded, still in total shock. "It was a death certificate. A gunshot to the head,"

"Do they know who did it?" Emily shook her head.

"There's been a series of murders up there. There's a serial killer. Your mom...was the latest victim."

-

That day at work, the BAU was invited on the case. Hotch called you into his office. "You cannot work this case,"

"I have to go up there,"

"You can't,"

"Not for the case, I have arrangements to make, Hotch!"

He went silent. You exchanged stares before he said, "Right. Of course. But you cannot be involved with this case, it's a conflict of interest, Y/L/N,"

"You need me, Hotch, you're a member down with Reid out, what are you gonna do?"

"You can't. You're not allowed to. You can travel there with us but you cannot work the case." He's not going to budge and it's no use arguing. You're already distraught and have an emotional wife to help.

"Alright. I'm too tired and busy to argue with you, Hotch. I've got a lot on my plate anyway. I can't be at the briefing, wheels up when?"

He wanted to laugh at the phrasing. Instead he smirked and replied, "Forty. Ten to brief the team, then wheels up in thirty."

A knot remained in your stomach. Your chest was tight with anxiety about having to see your family. You were sitting with the team, who had already discussed the case without you. Emily held your hand and played with your fingers.

always been mine - emily prentiss x readerNơi câu chuyện tồn tại. Hãy khám phá bây giờ