Undercover Lovers (EmilyPrentissxReader)

Ambedo

A/N - this one's a little angsty too, most will be for a while but i do have a couple of ideas to bring in some fluff

ambedo
n. a kind of melancholic trance in which you become completely absorbed in vivid sensory details—raindrops skittering down a window, tall trees leaning in the wind, clouds of cream swirling in your coffee—which leads to a dawning awareness of the haunting fragility of life.

It was dark and inexplicably loud within the silence, a paradox  if ever you've known one. Your arms were trapped behind you, the back of the metal chair cold against your flesh as the wire bound your wrists.

A drip, drip, drip echoing around you, mildewed water puddling at a dip in the concrete. Blurry vision, rapid blinks to adjust to where you are, what you could see. Clear water turning crimson.

You chest heaved with aching breaths, oxygen being ripped from your lungs as sweat gathered upon your forehead; fruitless screams into the abyss, no one to hear as you begged for help, for somebody to come to your rescue. Your wrists tugged and pulled at the restraints, not paying mind to the pain coursing through your entire body.

The smell of blood surrounded you, a sour and metallic scent. Your movements quickened into desperation at a choked sob you were sure came from the body of another, you had to save them. No matter what.

Despite the burning agony, you forced your hands from where they were tied, skin and flesh surely being sliced to bits but the echoing stomping of feet growing nearer and nearer flooded your mind. And all of a sudden the eerie silence was overtaken by a heavy breathing, the squeaking swinging of that lightbulb hanging from the ceiling and a presence looming.

Shaking hands swiped the blood that was seconds away from dripping into your eye, a diluted liquid over your face as it mixed with sweat and tears making your hands slick in such a vile way. It was a scene out of a horror film as bloodied handprints created a pathway in your wake as you used the wall for support.

You were barely able to grip the door handle with the seething pain that accompanied each and every movement your beaten body made, yanking it open with a creak. You were shocked to stumble out without being caught, feet tripping over themselves in your scuffed work boots, the heavy soles useful in breaking down doors 'Derek style'.

Your eyes tried to adjust to the dingy hallway ahead of you, lights flickering until they settled on a perpetual darkness. Blood pumping in your head, heart beating in your ribs as you ran with all your might, the end seeming to be moving too.

You could hear muffled coughs and a cry out in pain, just keep on running and you'll be there.

Somehow, in a daze, you found yourself stumbling through a doorway. A wet slapping sound beneath your boot as it fell heavily into a puddle of red, the pool growing larger each second. 

Her skin was pale, limbs splayed out awkwardly as a wooden stake impaled her. You fell to her side holding onto her as if she might just disappear.

"Stay with me, it'll be okay."

You watched as her eyes fluttered closed before the hand you grasped in your own melted away until all that was left was your shaking figure surrounded by her blood, the scarlet covering your hands.

Another nightmare of course, bleary eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, grey and lifeless from the early morning light peeping through. Sergio meowed as you shuffled him in his sleep, disturbing him as little as you could when you pulled yourself up from the bed and to the window.

The cool air refreshing on your sweat laden skin as you put it on the latch, forearms resting on the windowsill as you looked out. The sight reminded you of Emily, of the first time she'd looked out at the view, the cityscape behind the nature filled park in front of your apartment building.

She'd spent the night and the following morning had forced you awake with the blaring sunlight, her body only covered by a short t-shirt and underwear as she stared out in awe with a mug of coffee between her hands, another left on the side for you. From that day on you'd often catch her looking out with a small smile tugging at her lips and now you'd often do the same.

It had rained through the night, aquatic speckles decorating the glass. You mindlessly trailed a falling drop with your fingertip hardly aware of the mist your breath was creating over the window. You eyed the majesticicity of a small spider's web just outside, in the corner where the windowpane met the wall, intricately strung with dew drops frosting over. It gently swayed in the wind, just one harsh gust away from breaking.

You fell back onto the bed with a huff letting Sergio climb on top of you so you'd stroke his favourite spot behind his ears, his soft purrs filling your ears as he nuzzled against your neck. You cuddled with him until the very last minute, forcing yourself to get dressed - a jacket of Emily's part of the ensemble. 

You made sure there was some water for Sergio as well as some food for throughout the day, a routine you'd easily fallen into with him, before heading out. 

Everything these days seems to have been happening in chunks, your own life continuing around you. Your journey to work was just the sound of traffic, horns papping now and then, the monotonous engine revving. 

It was easy to avoid the others, busying yourself with work and providing minimal answers and responses, forcing smiles here and there. The overly graphic nightmare had left you with apathy, any type of care you'd once held had been dwindling and the disturbing dream seemed to be the last straw. You felt like an empty shell of what once was, you barely enjoyed the BAU anymore, TV served merely as background noise, Emily had filled a space you hadn't realised was quite so empty until she was gone. 

Hotch had been calling people into his office one by one for a 'grief assessment' and quite frankly you couldn't think of anything worse. To speak of Emily in such a way is just admitting that she's gone, your mind can't help but hope that each time you hear the elevator it's going to be her walking out towards you - it's the only thing keeping you afloat. 

You would do anything to see her again.

The paperwork was nothing short of boring and you kept finding yourself mindlessly watching each second pass on the clock, tilting your mug and watching the milky coffee slosh back and forth. Her empty chair opposite made you feel sick.

Everybody had spoken to Hotch now, you were next up. But there was only an hour left of the work day and the skittles you'd been tossing into your mouth whilst swinging on your chair had run out. Your mug was sipped dry and you couldn't care much less about the uncompleted files, so you left.

Chair spinning as you yanked your coat from the back, haphazardly pulling it on and slinging your bag over your shoulder as you hurried out.

You took the long way home, phone ringing on the passenger seat but you didn't care anymore. You let your mind be absorbed by the mundane hoping not to crack completely.