Criminal Minds Imagines

e.p. - busy

We got back from a case in Sacramento a few hours ago, everyone still at the BAU finishing paperwork and unable to sleep from the horrors we all saw. Young women were being scouted and killed outside of bars in the area, the UnSub getting his hands on anyone that he could. He strangled them, raping them while they were still warm. It's something you can't forget. Especially when it almost happens to you.

I'm in JJ's office, her letting me have some space. I was attacked by the UnSub and was still shaking, the events of tonight taking over my thoughts.

He grabbed me from behind, his strong fingers digging into my side and my cheeks, muffling my voice as I screamed for help. I couldn't reach my gun, his arms wrapped so tightly around me that I could hardly move. I kicked and elbowed him with what mobility that I had but he wouldn't back down. He was so strong and I felt powerless. He threw me into the alley and onto the pavement, landing on a pile of garbage and cutting myself on a broken beer bottle. He was standing above me, smiling at the fear in my eyes.

"Trust me, this won't hurt a bit." He sniggered.

Emily came at him from behind, tackling him to the ground and wrestling as he resisted. My hands scraped against the gravel on the ground as I was scrambling back into the corner like an idiot. But I couldn't think. I was paralyzed and terrified and a coward.

She cuffed him and picked him up from the ground, taking him to the squad car set up around the corner. Derek helped me back up and I couldn't help but notice Emily glaring at me as she walked away.

"You're hands are scraped up, Princess. You alright?"

I nodded quickly, swallowing the lump in my throat.

I'm sat on JJ's desk, the hem of my shirt in my mouth as I try to see the deep cut along my abdomen. My back is to the door so I don't see Emily come in, but I can feel her presence. I don't turn around, tired of her opinion of me.

Once the UnSub was being taken to the station, Emily couldn't help but complain about how I should've gotten out my gun faster or how I should've fought harder. I'm always less than with her.

"I'm a little busy Prentiss," I mutter, the cotton between my teeth making my words less pronounced.

She slams the door and I finally turn my head, rolling my eyes as I see her hands folded across her chest. What could she possibly want now? To gloat? Make fun of me? Because I've honestly had enough for one night.

She just stares at me and I'm confused, raising my brows dramatically. "What?"

"Are you that fucking stupid?" She says, judgment rolling off of her tongue.

I drop the fabric from my lips, letting my shirt fall as I open up the bandage. "Yes, Prentiss, I'm that fucking stupid. We all know it. No need to rub salt in the wound, so to speak."

"You could have gotten yourself killed."

This stupid paper won't come off and I'm frustrated, not needing a lecture. "Yeah, I know and I'm so over this. You talk shit about me to everyone so now they all look at me the same way you do. Disappointed and angry and pitiful all at the same time. I am humiliated and this cut fucking hurts and this stupid bandage won't come off the damn paper!" I yell, my cheeks burning.

She walks in front of me, standing between my legs and taking the bandage from my hands. She takes off the packaging, looking at me expectantly. "Lift up your shirt."

I scoff. "Emily, even if you don't think so, I'm a big girl and I can do this on my own. I don't need your help or your judgment."

"Lift up your shirt." She commands this time, her voice deeper.

Sighing, I lift up the fabric and expose the gash across my stomach. She looks at it for a moment, her eyes squinting the way they do when she's angry. She leans down slightly, aligning the bandage with my cut and placing it on me, her cold fingers grazing my warm skin. I wince from the pain and also the chills running through my body at the contact. I look up to her and she's looking down at me, her lips pale and firmly pressed together, unlike how they usually are.

"You should have let me come with you to the bar." She says, her hand traveling from the bandage and down to my thigh.

My eyes follow her movements, my lips parting slightly. "Hotch wanted me to go alone. Make it more believable." I mutter, my mind not being able to piece anything else together. Her touch is distracting me, her fingers tapping lightly against my jeans.

She leans into me, confiding. "I should've been there. You know that."

I match her volume. "I know."

She looks down and her hand glides up to my waist before meeting my eyes again. There's a pit in my stomach, undoubtedly turned on but also confused as to how this will end.

"I should've protected you. Not let you get hurt."

Her other hand is on me now, too, slowly traveling up my torso as the distance between our faces closes. She's centimeters away from my lips, begging to feel her against them. My jagged hands reach her hips, stinging softly. "I'm fine, thanks to you."

Suddenly, the door opens and we both jerk our heads seeing Reid in the doorway. His eyes are wide and he quickly turns around, walking away. Emily removes herself from me, running a hand through her hair as she walks out of the room without taking a second to look back. I hop off of the desk and pull my shirt down, collecting myself as my mind goes over what just happened. Hell, I don't even know if it can.