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nike_ravusAuthor: Alsike
Summary: During “Lauren,” Garcia leaves a lot of messages on answering machines, including that of Emily’s on-again-off-again girlfriend. Set in between the scene where JJ lets them know she’s dead and where mysterious-redhead takes the passports and disappears.
Apologies: So, Livejournal sucks and won’t let me log in. I’m taking a shot at x-posting from Dreamwidth. And if you’re a frequent reader, probably this will feel like a bit of a rehash of other things. Oddly enough, I had most of the first scene written, with slightly different details, before this episode was even made. Possibly some thievery from Princess Alexandria in this, but only homage intended.
“Is this enough?” Emma asked, tiredly. “Have you died enough times yet to satisfy yourself?”
Emily blinked. The room was fuzzy and her body ached. “What?”
“Haven’t you had enough? Do you really want to be dead that badly? I know I don’t give you what you need, but is this really my fault, that you risk your life over and over again for a child? Always another child? I can give you children. I have a fucking school full of them. Would that be enough? Would you stop taking on nutcases all by yourself? You got staked. You’ve been shot, and beaten, and I can’t take it! I’d look after you if you asked for help. But there’s only so many times I can bring you back to life.”
“Emma,” Emily murmured, upset at making her so unhappy. “I’m sorry.”
“You were dead again, and I can’t take that. Not anymore.” She shook her head. “I had to call in a favor with Warren for this. You were cold and limp and bloody, and my worst nightmares weren’t as bad as this. Why do you always end up dead? Would you rather be dead than be with me?”
“Is that an option?” Emily asked softly.
“It’s an ultimatum. I won’t save you again. I can’t take it.”
“What’s your offer?”
“You quit your job, immediately. You can live here, you could go to school, teach something, find other, safer work. You can do whatever the fuck you want, except put your life in danger. You can stay if you want though. I’d like it if you stayed.”
Emily looked at her. She was wide open. She needed to be wide open. She needed the touch and the warmth of her lover’s mind. There was guilt there, and anger, and betrayal, and loss. She already knew she had lost, but she hoped. She hoped enough to be honest, to open herself up and say, ‘yes, I need you,’ say it with words, say it with thought, say it with the slight flinching of her hand as it moved to brush her arm.
And Emily thought about accepting. Her life had been a series of one disaster after another, a sequence of loss and misery and despair. She had made so many sacrifices, put aside everything she wanted. Why did she deserve to have what she wanted when so many other people had nothing? But hadn’t she sacrificed enough?
Emma wanted her. She was sure of it, for the first time, she couldn’t doubt it. She wanted her, nothing and no one else. Her eyes welled up and she tried not to let herself cry, because it wasn’t enough. She wished it were. She desperately wished it were. But she had too much pride. She couldn’t just cleave to her, become nothing more than part of someone else’s life. She didn’t deserve the charity of a home and a job, even if it was a gift. She couldn’t give that much of herself. And in the end, Emma was too much like her. She would risk her life for the safety of children, and she dared to tell Emily she couldn’t? But Emily couldn’t call her a hypocrite, not when she felt the same.
“I can’t. You know I can’t.”
And the shutters went down in Emma’s eyes. They didn’t block her out, they just cut off that part of her that could hope, that could believe in a world that was safe and stable and trustworthy. That part had been barricaded, locked and barred when they met, and slowly, bit by bit, it had opened up. Emily didn’t want to take responsibility for being the one to open it, but in a way, she knew she was responsible. She had been there, when everything else had been taken away, had insinuated herself into her life, and made her trust her, with everything, with her past, her sins and crimes, her pain and loss and desperation, and now Emily was the one who had closed it down again, because she had died. How many times could you die before it was finally over? Before you could let everyone get on with grieving and get over you?
“I can’t do this anymore.” And it was too honest, too broken, and too final, and Emily’s tears spilled over and she trapped the sob in her throat. “I’ll do anything for you. I’ve done more for you than for anyone, and you just turn it to shit. And I know it before I do it. I know you don’t want me to save you. I know you just want me to let you die, let you finally die, like you’ve always wanted. I wanted it too, once. I wanted it more than you ever had, and I was saved by random chance, and I wouldn’t have cared. I would have lain down and waited to die if you haven’t been there, and you don’t know how angry I was with you for wanting to save me. But you managed it, and I hate you because you won’t let me do it back.”
“I made you get back up again,” Emily said. “And you went right back to what we both do, to giving everything. And you bring me back to life, over and over again, and I love you. But what’s the point if I just hide? If I just hid I wouldn’t deserve the life you give me. You know that.”
“I don't care!”
Emily sat up, and felt like she was going to vomit, but she had to get the words out. “It wouldn’t work! Even if I were here, even if you were at my side every second, you couldn't protect me from everything. People come after you. Don’t think I don’t know that you’ve made enough enemies to last a lifetime. Are you going to run away with me? Are we going to change our names, and hide, and stay home? There’s no way to take away the risk, and if you think it’s better to lose me now, so you can stop caring, I understand. Sometimes I feel the same way. But you always take yourself from me. You always run away, and that hurts me every time, and I’ve had enough of that too.”
“No! This isn’t about you this time! You can’t tell me you’ve had enough of me when you hide yourself from me, when you don’t ask for help when you’re fighting for your life.”
“I have secrets that I’m not allowed to share.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “You have pain that you don’t want other people to see. You have ugliness and anger and fear that you don’t want to admit to yourself, but secrets? No. Not from me. I pry. I can pry while you’re asleep. I can watch your nightmares.”
Emily felt sickened. “You haven’t-”
Emma looked at her, gaze flat and unyielding.
“But I never have nightmares when I’m with you.”
“That’s because I fix them. I can fix yours. I can’t fix mine. And the truth is, these days, they’re all about you. I miss the good old ones of finding my brother’s body, of my sister’s brain-spatter on her own front door. I miss fucking Genosha. I’m tired of your cold stiff body in my bed. I’m tired of blue lips and unblinking eyes, and I’m tired of them coming true.”
“I’m sorry.”
Emma sank on to the bed and bent her head. “Please don’t die.” Her words were choked, emerging from a swollen throat, her eyes full. “Please don’t.” She was crying, actually crying, and Emily couldn’t do anything about it. The IV was still stuck in her right arm, but she looped her left around her neck and pulled her into her chest. Emma felt weak and small, her ribs seemed hollow like a bird’s, and the sobs were like the fluttering of wings.
“I’m so sorry.” She soothed what she could, but in the end, she couldn’t make any promises, and that knowledge hurt like a broken heart in both their minds.
* * *
The X-Men had been out, saving the world, and Emma checked her messages on the way back. There were messages from Garcia, disgusting, terrifying messages. Getting worse and worse.
“We’re going to Washington.”
“I’m not your limo to get to your booty calls, Emma,” snapped Scott.
“We’re going to fucking DC!” Emma wrenched his head open, commanding him, and they were on course.
“You bitch!”
“Scott!” Jean could feel it. “Listen to her!”
Afterwards, there was film from the warehouse, crime scene shots, and Emma perused them like it was some form of penance.
* * *
“You’re out of the woods, dear,” said Hank with a cat-like smile. He plucked the IV from Emily’s arm without hesitation and pressed the cotton swab to it. “Press that down.”
Emily did. There was no nausea as she sat up this time, just pain as the wound in her gut twisted. She looked around. The room was empty, save for Hank, but she was sure she had fallen asleep with Emma pressed to her chest. “Emma?”
“Honestly. She should know better than to put so much weight on an injured patient.” He saw Emily’s face, and smiled gently. “I sent her off to get cleaned up about an hour ago. You’ve got a bit of company. She wouldn’t want them to catch her like that.”
Emily nodded, feeling tired. Nothing really changed, even when she was dead. Things just kept going, in their mundane selfish ways.
“Hello.”
Emily looked up. A man had stepped into the room, blond and handsome, with beautiful white-feathered wings. “An angel?”
“Archangel, actually.” He smiled and came over to the bed, shaking her hand. He was a little pale and there was a bandage wrapped around his arm. “I’m Warren.”
“Emily.” She frowned. “You’re Warren… the one Emma called in the favor from.”
Warren grimaced. “Favor, threat, they’re kind of the same thing to her.”
Emily nodded, resigned.
“But I would have done it if she had just asked. The truth is, it’s an honor to meet you. Jean’s told me how much she likes you, and how you were Ororo’s childhood friend. I really only know Emma from before, social functions and corporate work, but everyone says she’s different now.”
Emily sighed. “Yeah. I broke her. I’m sorry.”
Warren laughed. He sat on the edge of the bed. “So, what happened? I’ve never brought someone back from the dead before. And those were… those were the type of wounds I see on superheroes.”
“I’m not a superhero.”
“You’re not a mutant. It’s a little different, but from what I’ve heard, you qualify.”
“Some risky decisions I made in the past caught up with me.”
“It happens. I mean, if you hang around Emma you should be used to that by now.”
Emily laughed softly. “I think this time I had her beat. She hangs around with corrupt politicians. I was being pursued by an ex who was an ex-IRA commander.” She glanced down. “I feel like I understand her more now. When you know they’re coming after your family… I did exactly what she always did to me, I ran, and cut ties, and didn’t ask for help.” She looked up. “My team. Do they know where I am? They saved me, but they’re not here…”
Warren’s face was a picture. “You died on the table, and we really couldn’t tell them otherwise. They’re government agents.”
“They all think I’m dead?”
“You were dead.” Warren sighed. “And the government can’t find out that my blood can heal and bring people back from the dead. I’m no one’s lab bunny. If you’re going back, we need to come up with something, Witness Protection, maybe. Emma’s good at fixing paperwork.”
Emily nodded. It would mean lying, lying to everyone. She was always lying. But that sort of penance, wasn’t it what she deserved? Every day she would be stung by her deceit, and remember what had been sacrificed to save her, and how she had thrown it away.
* * *
Emma sat on the counter across from her bed, legs crossed at the knee, watching her. And Emily knew what she was thinking.
“I didn’t want to die. You think I wanted that? I fought so hard. I did everything I could to keep you all safe. I wanted to survive that, to come back, to come home. I wanted it.” Even if I didn’t think it could happen.
“You told your teammate to let you go!”
Emily looked down. “He held my hand.” And she couldn’t think of him, of what she needed, only the warmth of his hand, holding her down, keeping her there. And she had died anyway, died, been brought back, died again. The resuscitation failed, failed again. And Emma had done what she could. Done everything she could, pulled her out of the hospital and into the medlab of the blackbird where Hank started the transfusion. And she had waited, staying back, cold and ill and upset, while they busied themselves, rushing around, and then, finally, finally, her body bent and choked as Hank pressed the trigger on the paddles, and she was breathing. After that, Warren grew pale, but the flesh knitted together until it was whole, only leaving a hollow wound that would heal, the caked blood marring her skin.
Emma nodded. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I can’t.”
“He looked like you,” Emily said. “He had curly hair, but he was pretty like you, pale blond locks. Blue eyes. So sweet. He could have been yours.”
“At one point, I think you would have done the same to me as you did to that man. I trained children to be killers. I trained them to fight and die.” She shook her head. “Then they died, and I knew I was wrong. But here I am again, training children to fight. I’m just like him. Why haven’t you taken my children away from me?”
“I’ve been inside your head,” Emily said. “I was there, when all of them had died, when you were holding one to your chest, cradling him, trying to protect a corpse. And you were cursing yourself, ripping yourself apart, for not being able to teach them to protect themselves. You teach them to fight because you think they need to fight, because they are in danger. You don’t train them to be killers. They have a choice.”
“I had a choice.” And she fought and killed, she manipulated and controlled, sabotaged and destroyed. She didn’t deserve forgiveness or understanding.
“You fight to give them a chance to make the choice. That was all I wanted for that boy, to not be forced into becoming someone he wasn’t, he didn’t want to be.”
“You shame me.” Emma shook her head. “And I try to guilt you into being less of a hero.” She sounded apologetic, tired and weak. And for a moment, Emily hoped.
“You’re not leaving me?” It came out with a crack, and Emily was horrified at the vulnerability in her voice. Emma looked up, eyes wide.
“I- I’m sorry. I have to look after myself.”
Emily sank back into the bed. She looked down. Can’t you look after me?
Emma could have heard, probably did hear, but made no response. She just watched her.
* * *
JJ was the only one who knew what had happened. Emma would have preferred to deal with anyone else, but she didn’t trust Garcia not to blab it everywhere, and the boys were all vague nonentities. At least with JJ she didn’t have many qualms about planting a compulsion in her mind to not betray Warren’s secret. And JJ had been there, had been standing horror-stricken as the doctor pulled off his bloody gloves and told her there was nothing they could do, that she was dead. They had rode in and pulled Emily’s body off the table, and JJ had chased them to the jet.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m doing what I have to.” JJ had frozen at the look on Emma’s face. “And you do what you have to. Tell them that she’s dead.”
“I’m here.” And an angel swooped down from the sky on perfect white wings. JJ stumbled back.
“What?”
“Tell them she’s dead.”
“Is she?” asked the angel as he pulled his shirt off over his head. “I’m not sure if I can help. Is she the right type?”
“Yes.”
A blue furry paw shot out from behind a curtain, grabbing the angel and hauling him through it.
JJ stared at Emma, eyes wide. “Are you going to be able to save her?”
“I don’t know.” There was a resignation in her eyes, a hollowness, and an ugliness. << Why didn’t you protect her? How dare you let her get killed! >> It was a scream in JJ’s head, a crashing wave of anger and fear, and it knocked her to her knees.
“Okay, that’s about a pint. Let’s try it. Three, two, one, clear!”
Emma jerked back the curtain, and JJ looked up in time to see Emily’s body arch with the shock. The bare-chested angel with his arm out, a cord leading from his arm to hers, blood pumping through it. And one of the monitors lit up for a few moments before it failed again.
“But she’s dead. They gave up.” JJ climbed shakily to her feet, and stepped forward.
“Let’s try it at a quart.” The angel looked worried but nodded.
“No one can know about this,” said Emma. And JJ felt her mind twist out of her control, the memory of the doctor’s words shoved forefront into her mind, her horror reasserting itself, and then she was walking, back to the stairs that led down from the helipad into the hospital, back to the waiting room. The surfaced emotions were visible on her face. And they believed her lies.
It was JJ that met Emily in a café in New York. She wasn’t allowed to know where the school was, so she had waited there, until Emily came in, still a little pale, using a cane to reduce the pressure on the still healing wounds. She had protested taking a second infusion of Warren’s blood. If she wasn’t dead she could heal on her own.
“You look-” JJ cut herself off and laughed weakly. “You look better than I saw you last.”
Emily smiled, settling gingerly into the chair. “I need a vacation.”
“You’re really going to lie to the team, tell everyone you’ve been in WITSEC?”
Emily nodded. “I have to. It’s not that I don’t trust them, but this isn’t my secret to share.”
JJ sighed. “Okay.” She hated Emma for making her lie, for messing with her mind. But her intervention had given them Emily back, and she couldn’t hate her for that. “Then let’s make it feel real. And let’s give you a vacation.”
* * *
The private jet left for Argentina at nine in the evening. A week there, a week in Istanbul, a week in Okinawa and a week off. She would have a month on her own, and it felt like she was going back undercover, fake names, fake bank accounts. It was overwhelming, and Emily was too tired. She curled up in the seat and wished she had thought of something else.
Then the door opened. Emma stepped through the hatchway.
“What are you doing here? Didn’t you break up with me?”
Emma eyed her. “You look like shit,” she said.
“Thanks.” Emily looked down at her fingernails. They had almost been getting long before this mess happened, she had been thinking about buying a nail clipper. No need for that now.
“I’m breaking up with you when you go back to work, when you start risking your life and getting into trouble again. But right now, you’re going on vacation. And I’m keeping an eye on you. I don’t trust you to not get yourself into another mess.”
“Okay.” Emily smiled.
Emma didn’t kiss her, didn’t comfort, just brought her a shot of bourbon and settled in next to her, pulling out a pile of papers.
“You brought your grading?”
Emma huffed a small laugh out through her nose. “Scott wasn’t enthused about my taking off. But honestly, a pop-final? They may never forgive me, but I will know how much they’ve actually retained this semester.”
Emily finished her bourbon and rested her head on Emma’s shoulder as the plane taxied for takeoff. Her presence was a relief. Emily had always been good at living on the razor’s edge, finding the few moments of peace when she was actually with someone she could trust, usually a child, with no motive to betray her. But it got harder and harder. When she had had enough, she put it behind her. With the BAU there was always someone to trust and rely on. But those last few weeks, her past had crept up behind her and stolen her away, locked her back up in that tight box where she had nothing and no one. Her team had tried to break through, and she had needed them, needed them so desperately, but relying on them would have only gotten them killed.
But now Emma was right there, doing her marking, being normal, when Emily had doubted that anything normal could exist in a world where she held a gun to a boy’s head to save his life. She was open to her, with that warm light touch inside her head, keeping a check on her mood and her thoughts, reminding her that she wasn’t alone. Emily burrowed more deeply into Emma’s shoulder, and relaxed. She fell asleep before they lifted off and didn’t wake up until they were back safely on the ground.
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Date: 2011-08-01 04:31 pm (UTC)What can I say? It was excellent, but I don't know about using the show's canon to do this. And I really don't understand Emily's decision. It's what she's done her whole life, yes, but what is she doing now except running? She's not an agent of any agency. What does she think she can do?
But it was very realistic. I liked the fact that for once, it was Emma giving Emily the choice rather than Emma just leaving or Emily telling Emma she needed to make the choice. Emma's return was beautiful, and the ending metaphor was perfect.
Of course, this doesn't fit in with any canon but the show and the assumption that Emma and Emily are together, but it provides a lot about Emma and Emily's relationship. I'm still questioning it, but it's certainly and interesting and intriguing work. I can't wait for more.