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criminalmindsgonewrong · 11 months

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nature vs nurture

a hotchner's future au fic. wordcount: 5.7k

emily is trying to be a good mother, but she never had a good example to learn from.

elizabeth comes to visit after ava is born

tw: mentions of pregnancy, mentions of trouble conceiving

Read on AO3, fanfiction.net or under the cut

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"There, there," Emily soothed, running her hand gently up and down her newborn daughter's back. Bouncing on the pregnancy ball, the only thing that had brought her any relief as she had neared fullterm, she had hoped that the familiar sensation would soothe Ava, as it used to when she was in-utero, but, so far, no dice. Emily persisted, though, switching up the position she held Ava in. She moved her daughter from her shoulder, unstrapping her maternity bra and holding Ava nestled against her chest, hoping the skin-to-skin contact, and the scent of her mother, might calm the crying child. Still, Ava went on screeching. Emily closed her eyes, breathing steadily out through her nose and tilting her face up towards the ceiling, determined not to cry. No, she had done enough of that in the past few days.

Getting pregnant had been a chore; she and Aaron, it felt like, were having sex at every opportunity and still, nothing happened for the longest time. Emily had been convinced she was infertile, and wouldn't even have been surprised, after all of the explosions, gun-shots, chairlegs and beatings she'd been through. After eleven long months of negative pregnancy tests, unwanted periods and disappointed tears, though, finally, those two little lines had shown up and a relief the likes of which she had never known flooded Emily's being.

She hadn't stopped crying since.

The littlest things could set her off, from Aaron accidentally ordering her the wrong takeout order to Jack winning one of his football matches. Towards the end of her pregnancy, he had actually banned her from attending games - by that point she was so big that she couldn't do much more than waddle, anyway, and standing for too long made her ache all over, so she didn't really mind all that much, but she still cried when Aaron told her.

That was a month ago, and, three weeks later, Ava made her squawking, mewling way into the world and it seemed that the phrase like mother, like daughter was all too true for them because she hadn't stopped crying since either, and everytime Ava cried, one of two things happened. Emily started leaking, either from her eyes or from her boobs.

As she bounced on the birthing ball and tried to breathe her way through the tears that threatened, she felt the hot trail of milk that slowly leaked out of her, and then she couldn't hold back tears anymore.

"Hey," Aaron said, rushing into the room armed with the diaper and wipes she'd sent him out for, "I was just checking on Jack, I'm sorry." He said, misinterpreting her tears, but Emily shook her head.

"Can you-you get me a t-towel?" She stutered her way through her sentence, the sympathy on her husband's face only making her cry harder, and, feeling useless, Aaron did the only thing he could, which was what she had asked for. He hurried into their en-suite, grabbing one of the microfibre towels, the good, soft ones, from the cupboard and came back to kneel in front of his wife and daughter. Lovingly, he mopped up the milk and then fastened her maternity bra back up for her, careful not to disturb Ava, who was still crying.

"Did you try her…?" Aaron asked, and then trailed off at the expression on Emily's face, the one that said she might rip his head off if he finished that sentence. "Of course you did. Sorry, sweetheart."

Emily, though, shook her head, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to take it out on you," She said, and supported Ava with one arm, making sure she was secure before reaching for Aaron. He understood and took her hand, helping her stand off of the ball and leading her to the bed, where Emily painfully lowered herself onto it, still tender from the birth, "Oh, please, close the door before she wakes Jack up."

Aaron had the same thought at the same moment, and was already turning as she made the request. "This won't last forever," he reassured her, making his way back to the bed and rubbing Emily's back in much the same way as Emily had done to Ava, trying to soothe her.

"Do you remember Jack crying this much?" Emily dug around in Ava's blankets, finding her pacifier and once again gently tapping it against her infant's lips, but Ava wiggled her head back and forth as best as she could, and only mewled louder, rejecting the pacifier, "Okay, okay, I'm sorry, sweetheart, I'm sorry." Emily said, feeling tears threaten once more, and swallowing down the lump that had risen in her throat. She felt, not for the first time, at a complete loss, unable to determine what her daughter needed at any given moment. This learning curve was the steepest she had ever encountered, and Emily felt like she was faltering with every step she took..

She looked at Aaron with eyes that sparkled like glass, "She hates me," she said, with a sadness so profound that it made him gape at her.

"No, sweetheart, no," He wrapped his arms around them both, pulling his wife and daughter into his chest, "Don't ever think that."

"What's wrong with me," Emily sobbed, her words muffled by Aaron's chest, "that I can't even comfort my own baby?"

Between them, Ava was still crying, and Emily pulled out of Aaron's arms, making to stand up, meaning to pace back and forth in the hopes that a different motion might soothe her, but Aaron stopped her.

"Let me?" He asked, searching his wife's eyes.

Emily had been reluctant to let go of Ava, even to him, since she was born and she appreciated that he asked, even if he was her father. Of course she trusted him, but Ava was the most precious thing she'd ever seen, ever held, and to let her go for even a moment, even to her father, was like physical torment. Right now, though, after Ava had been screaming for almost two hours, the relief of being slightly further away from her noise overcame that pain easily, and she let Aaron gently lift the baby from her arms.

She watched as he nestled Ava into the crook of his elbow, holding her tight to his chest. She was a tiny baby, but she looked even smaller in Aaron's muscular arms, truly like a little doll. It made something inside of Emily ache.

"That's nature's trick," she commented, narrowing her eyes as she wiped her nose on back of her hand, frowning at him.

Aaron looked at her, halted his attempts at soothing their daughter to raise his eyebrows at her, the ghost of a smile playing around his lips, "What?"

"How good men look with babies." Even though Emily couldn't even think about having sex with him without wincing right now, something inside of her tugged at the sight of him holding the tiny bundle, comforting their child with soft words and looking down at her with such adoration, "Tricks you into having more."

Aaron smiled at her, showing his perfect teeth, then turned that smile down onto their daughter. Emily marvelled, not for the first time, at his patience. She loved Ava with everything she had, but she was ready to jam a screwdriver into her eardrum right about now, just for the bliss of the silence.

"She's brand new," Aaron was saying, "Being born is traumatic. Everything is new and big and scary," he rocked, side to side, creating a rhythm, "I know you don't like it right now," he wasn't talking to her anymore, but to Ava, "but you will. I promise you will."

Ava paused for a moment to look at her father, blinking bleary eyes at him, still unable, Emily knew, to see clearly. That, she thought, must be scary enough in itself.

"You know what used to work for Jack?" Hotch said, looking up at her. Tiredly, Emily raised her eyebrows at him. "A bath."

"See? Works everytime."

His fingertips stroked over their daughter's tiny, dark head, her hair wet from the water and plastered flat. She rested on Emily's chest, her tiny fist furling and unfurling against her mother's skin. The water was just the right temperature, a little cold for Emily, perhaps, but perfect for the baby, and her mother's heart beat steadily and surely beneath her ear, as comforting as it had been when she lived inside Emily's body.

"You're a genius," Emily whispered, smiling at her husband, the silence making her ears buzz. Ava's eyes had fluttered closed, along with her fist, and she didn't open them or unfurl them, but instead began a slow and steady breathing that told her parents she had, finally, fallen asleep.

There was a long beat of silence. Then Emily looked at him and said, "What now?"

Kneeling beside the bath, Aaron's shoulders started to shake as he tried to laugh silently, and Emily held Ava's head gently as she did the same, trying to keep as still as she could while giggling, so as not to disturb her daughter.

The next morning, Ava woke them with a cry, as had become the custom, as was normal for a baby her age. It was 5:30am. All in all, her parents had four hours of sleep between them. They tried to nap alternately, but realistically when one was awake, so was the other, and the morning was the same story, so when Ava's cries woke Emily, Aaron was up a few seconds later.

By lunch time, they were both yawning.

"Kids are hard," Emily whined, resting her chin on Aaron's shoulder as she curled her fingers around the mug of coffee she had been reheating and trying to drink since 7am. Ava, blissfully, was taking a nap in her swing, a song that Emily already knew would be haunting her dreams playing for the seventh time in a row. Unfortunately, it seemed to be the only one that Ava found appealing and so, like all new parents, they were putting up with it until further notice. Or until the batteries ran out.

"Yeah," Aaron agreed, just as sleepily, as Jack came bounding into the room with an energy his parents couldn't possibly hope to match.

"Grandma's here," he announced, and they both stared at him in confusion. Impatient, he repeated, "Grandma's here! In the car!"

"My mom?" Emily said, frowning in confusion.

"Has to be. Highly doubt it's mine, or he'd be screaming in terror since she's been dead for twenty years." Aaron replied, standing up from the barstool. There were milkstains on his t-shirt, Emily noticed, and, looking down at her own, she saw that she, too, was covered in them. She also noticed a stain that looked suspiciously like milk-sick, but didn't inspect it too much. Instead, she grabbed a hoodie from the pile of laundry she had been meaning to get to for four days, and tugged it over her head, trying to make herself look at least half presentable.

"Can't we send her away?" Aaron suggested, half-heartedly, already aware of how much of a losing battle that would be.

"It's better if we just let her in, let her see the baby, and then, once she's had her fill, we won't have to see her for about five years. Hopefully." Emily asserted, attempting to fluff her hair in the microwave's reflection before giving up and tugging it up into a bumpy ponytail, fastening it with the hairtie that had been around her wrist.

The doorbell went and they both turned as though it were the cock of a gun.

"I'll get it," Aaron groaned, and Emily shot him a grateful smile, heading straight into the living room to where Ava was in her swing and Jack was sitting at the dining room table, drawing.

"Jack," she said, walking over to him and putting a gentle hand on his hair, stroking it, lovingly, "Don't take too much notice of anything Grandma says, okay?"

Jack looked up at her with curious blue eyes, but she just smiled at him, a smile that fell from her face as soon as she heard the tell tale click-clack on her hardwood floors, the soundtrack of her childhood, the noise that ominously announced the approach of her mother.

"Emily, my darling," Elizabeth swanned into the room, arms open wide, like the loving and affectionate mother she never had been, and enveloped Emily in a hug that felt all wrong and unfamiliar. Over her shoulder, she caught Aaron's eye, and he just shrugged as she furrowed her brows at him, "How are you?"

Shoving her away, Elizabeth held her at arms length, "You look tired."

"I just had a baby, mom," Emily said, deadpan, not at all shocked that the first words out of Elizabeth's mouth could be classified as an insult.

"Oh, yes, my first grandchild," Elizabeth clapped her hands together and Emily ground her teeth together.

"Second," she corrected, wrapping her arm securely around Jack's shoulders.

"Oh, of course, of course," Elizabeth waved a hand, as though to waft away her earlier words, "Jack, how are you?"

Her tone was as it had always been with children; formal and awkward. Jack looked from Elizabeth up to Emily, who gave him a small smile, a reassuring nod and a gentle squeeze into her side.

"I'm okay, grandma," he said, politely, "How are you?"

"Dying to meet my granddaughter," as tone deaf as ever, Elizabeth beamed at Emily, who felt something like possession curl in her chest as she saw the hungry look on Elizabeth's face, and she knew, she had known, the strange ownership Elizabeth already felt for Ava, a child she hadn't even met yet. She wanted, then, to send Eliazabeth away, to keep Ava for herself. She opened her mouth to speak, unsure of what was about to come out of it, but Aaron beat her to it.

"She's over here," he said, from behind her mother, and Elizabeth turned on her heels. Emily followed, right behind her.

The granddaughter in question was stirring, her lullaby having finished, and Emily, supporting herself on the arm of the sofa, knelt slowly down beside the swing and fiddled with the buttons until the song began again.

"Oh," Elizabeth looked down at the tiny bundle, as Emily put gentle fingers on Ava's tiny hand, lowering the arm that had been raised to cover her little face. "She's beautiful," Elizabeth whispered, "Emily, she looks just like you."

And Emily thought that might be the nicest thing her mother had ever said to her. She beamed with pride, staring at the tiny girl in the swing.

Before Ava, Emily was the type of person to say that all newborns looked the same. If somebody had shown her a photograph of Jack at one week old, and Henry at one week old, she was certain she wouldn't be able to tell them apart, regardless of how much she loved them both. Ava, however, was a different story entirely. Ava was the most beautiful newborn she had ever seen, with a shock of dark hair and eyes that were already the same deep brown as both of her parents and therefore, Emily assumed, likely to stay that way. Her pale little eyebrows arched angelically over her eyes, and, already, her eyelashes were shockingly long - the abundance of hair her daughter already had accounted for the heartburn Emily had suffered with throughout the second and third trimester.

She gently pulled back her finger and Ava once again lifted her arm to cover her face, fussing a little in the chair, unhappy about being disturbed.

"She won't stay settled for much longer," Aaron said, knowingly, "Elizabeth, can I get you a drink?"

"Yes, tea." There was no please, and Aaron raised an eyebrow at Emily, who just tilted her head, apologetically, and widened her eyes. He understood her even without words.

Let's just get through this.

"Mom, I wish you'd told us you were going to drop by," Emily said, as Aaron lef the room. The scolding was barely disguised, but Elizabeth either didn't hear it or chose to ignore it. She sat herself down on the sofa, but Emily stayed on the carpet beside Ava, wanting to be the closest one to her when she inevitably started crying, wanting, if she was honest with herself, to pick her up before Elizabeth tried to reach for her.

"I'm your mother, Emily, I don't need an announcement," Elizabeth waved away her words, and then added, "Or an invite." She pursed her lips with disapproval, clearly telling her daughter off in not as many words. Emily immediately felt the need to make excuses, a reminder that even as a grown woman, she hadn't escaped the effect her mother always seemed to have on her, of making her feel like a misbehaving child.

"We're just, we weren't having guests during these first two weeks," Emily said, tiredly, folding her own hands in her lap, "The house is a mess, we're all so exhausted. We've just been settling in with the baby-"

"Nonesense," Elizabeth let out a sharp laugh as Aaron entered the room with her tea, and Ava jumped, her grandmother's laugh effectively ending her nap. Startled, she began to cry as Elizabeth continued, seemingly oblivious, "I was on a plane to Munich two days after giving birth to you."

"Yes, mother, I know," Emily said, tersely, as she reached her hands into the swing, unbuckling the baby and fastening them securely around Ava. She lifted her out of the chair, immediately pulling Ava to her chest. Emily made soothing noises, picking up the pacifier Ava had spat out and putting it into her own mouth as she adjusted her daughter in her arms.

"You shouldn't do that, you know," And here it was, Emily thought, as she met Aaron's eyes over Elizabeth's head, the real reason they hadn't invited her; the unsolicited advice she was about to give that would make Emily's blood boil, because, really, who was Elizabeth to give anybody parenting advice, let alone the daughter she hadn't raised?

Neither Emily nor Aaron prompted her to continue, as he passed Elizabeth her tea and Emily stared, intently, at the babe in her arms, pretending she hadn't heard her mother at all, but Elizabeth went on, anyway.

"Pick her up as soon as she cries, I mean-thank you, Aaron, dear," She took the tea from him and immediately set it down onto the coffee table. Aaron frowned, picked it up again, set a coaster beneath it, and set the mug on top of the coaster. He wiped at the ringmark with his hand, aware of how crazy it would drive his wife, "You're teaching her bad habits."

"Bad habits?" Emily frowned, casting Elizabeth a glance, swaying her hips on the spot, a state that had become second nature to her already, "Mom, she's a week old."

"Nonetheless, if you let her manipulate you like that, you'll regret it," Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, with an air of superiority, as she brought her tea to her lips and Emily found herself wishing she would scald herself, but instead she just blew on her tea, "Give into her now and you'll be doing it for the rest of her life."

Emily bit her tongue, exhaling, hard, through her nose. She found Aaron's eyes, and, seeing the upset there, he turned to Jack.

"Hey, buddy, why don't you take your colours upstairs for a bit and let the grownups talk, huh?" Jack, who liked to spend most of his time in his room anyway, shrugged and gathered up his crayons and paper, obeying his father almost immediately. As soon as he was out of earshot, Emily raised her eyebrows at Elizabeth, feeling triumphant.

"See that?" She said, "Does it look like we let Jack walk all over us?"

Elizabeth, though, shrugged, "Perhaps his mother knew, as I do, the best way to raise a child. Sometimes you have to let them cry it out, Emily, look I'll show you. Here, here," Elizabeth advanced and before Emily could protest, she was lifting Ava's tiny body out of her arms. Something inside of Emily wanted to snap, as Ava wriggled in midair, and a maternal instinct so primal and violent rose to the surface with a velocity so shocking that it scared her. Emily only just managed to restrain herself, clenching her fists and her jaw, in time to hold herself back from physically attacking her mother, reminding herself over and over that Ava wasn't in any danger.

She caught Aaron's eyes over her mother's shoulder, and knew her own were panicked, even as she tried to maintain her calm.

"Let's just put you down here. Your mother is going to spoil you, isn't she?" Elizabeth spoke to her granddaughter in the same tone she used with Jack; a matter-of-fact, business-like tone that one might use with employees or colleagues, but certainly not grandchildren. As always, it grated on Emily. It was the tone of her childhood, and she didn't like it any better now than she had back then. "I mean, really, Emily, who knows more about raising children, you or I?"

"Emily has been raising Jack since-"

"Oh, pish, children are different to babies, Aaron, you know that," Elizabeth cut across him, curtly. Emily squeezed her fists at her side, eyes on Ava, who was wriggling in the swing, crying openly now. Elizabeth, though, folded her arms pertly across her chest and fixed Emily with a stare. "See? It's not hurting her to have a little cry, is it, Em? And it's not hurting you, either."

Emily, though, begged to differ as she felt the familiar ache in her breasts that always accompanied her daughter's cries. She sighed, heavily, and stepped forwards, unable to listen to Ava cry without at least trying to comfort her.

"Mother," Emily said, trying her hardest, and surprisingly succeeding, to keep her voice level as she reached back into the swing and lifted her crying daughter out of it, "My daughter is a week old-"

"Well, regardless-" Elizabeth began, but Emily spoke over her, still keeping her voice level. All too aware of how her own moods could affect the child in her arms, she tried to maintain what little sense of calm that she had right now, but felt on the edge of an eruption.

"No, mother," she said, levelly, "Ava is one. Week. Old. She is a baby." She emphasised the word, as though to remind her "She does not understand what it meant to 'manipulate'," Emily added a little extra venom to the word, even as she stroked a gentle hand down her infant's back, "She didn't ask to be born. We made that choice, Aaron and I, we brought her here. She didn't know hunger or pain or anything uncomfortable until I decided to have her, because I selfishly desired a baby. And we are her only source of comfort in a world she doesn't understand yet. Why the fuck would we deny her that?"

Elizabeth flinched at the curse, but Emily didn't back down, her eyes blazing, a stark contrast to the care with which she held her child. From where he stood, a few paces behind Elizabeth, Hotch looked on, approvingly. He had been about to step in when Emily proved that he didn't need to; she had been dealing with Elizabeth her whole life. Even now, emotional and full of post-partum hormones, she didn't need him to fight her battles.

"She cannot, does not know how to, 'manipulate' me." She said, with a finality. Elizabeth looked on with disapproval, her lips pursed, "And if she wants me to hold her every goddamn minute of the twenty-four hours in a day, then I'll bloody well do so, mother. Even if that does mean 'spoiling' her."

Ava was squawling now, truly screeching, and Emily sighed, heavily, her eyes blazing when she looked at her mother, "And thank you, for this."

She stalked from the room, Ava's cries growing more faint as she stomped up the stairs. Aaron watched his wife go, and then turned his gaze on Elizabeth, who looked at him, her finely stencilled eyebrows raised.

"Did I say something wrong?"

Shortly after that, Elizabeth made her leave. She looked pretty put out as she stalked down the garden path, Aaron waving to her from the door. He really wanted to slam it on her, but knew that Emily would appreciate him trying to keep the peace. She had been arguing with her mother her whole life, it was an integral part of their dynamic. It would be a whole different story if he started to argue with Elizabeth, too, and he knew Emily wouldn't appreciate it, so he bit his tongue and made nice on her behalf.

But he did breathe a sigh of relief when he closed the door and she was gone. It was like a dark cloud was lifted from the house.

He looked up the stairs, and softly called out, "Emily?" As he began to climb them.

Ducking his head into Jack's room, his son looked up at him from the carpet with a smile. He lay on his stomach, kicking his legs back and forth as he drew pictures.

"Hey, buddy," Aaron said, "You okay?"

"I'm okay," Jack nodded, "Did grandma leave?"

"She did," Aaron nodded, stepping into the room, "Yeah, I don't think we'll see her for a while."

"Good," Jack said, then looked thoughtfully down at the paper in front of him. When he met Aaron's eyes again, it was with the sort of startling clarity that a seven year old shouldn't have, "She makes Emmy sad."

Sad, nod mad. Not even after he'd heard Emily's raised voice towards her mother did Jack think badly of her. Perhaps, Aaron thought, not for the first time, profiling skills could be inherited, afterall.

"Emmy is okay," Aaron said, reassuring him, "She's just tired."

As if on cue, Jack yawned, and then Aaron did, too.

"Ava doesn't sleep good." Jack pointed out, matter-of-factly, and Aaron smiled.

"Not yet, but she will," as he said it, he hoped it was true, and then turned, "I'm going to check on Emmy, okay?"

"Okay." Jack said, turning back to the drawing. Aaron looked at it, and saw that it was a bassinet, holding a tiny little person with a pink bow. He smiled, love for his son sharp in his chest, and pulled the door as he stepped out into the hallway and made his way to the master bedroom.

"Em?" He said, softly, as he pushed the door open, half expecting to find both of his girls asleep, since he couldn't hear Ava's cries. The bedroom, though, was empty. He frowned, and called to her again, "Em?"

"In here." The soft call came from the bathroom, was barely audible, and Hotch followed her voice, stopping in the doorway at what he saw.

Emily, fully clothed, laying in the bath with Ava on her chest.

"I didn't think it would work without the water," she whispered, eyes downcast on her daughter's head as she stroked a gentle finger over Ava's crown, "But I got in anyway, just to try it. I was going to turn on the water, but she stopped crying almost instantly."

With a smile, Aaron settled himself down onto the toilet lid, clasping his hands in front of himself as he looked at his two girls. Emily didn't look particularly comfortable, but he knew better than to ask to take Ava right now, knew that she was bringing Emily as much comfort as Emily was bringing her.

Instead, he asked, "Are you okay?"

Emily waited a moment before answering, and Hotch saw the tension in her brow as she tried to find the right words. Eventually, she inhaled, slowly, and let all of the air go before answering him, "She just infuriates me."

"I know," he nodded, completely understanding, "I know. She always manages to say the wrong thing."

"It's not even that," Emily began, "I mean, yes, you're right, she does that, too, but it's more than that." She shook her head, started to say, "It's stupid-" but Aaron cut her off.

"It's not stupid," he said, earnestly, "It's not stupid, Em. Talk to me."

She fixed him with a stare, then, and he knew he was the person she trusted most in the world, knew she would lay down her life for him, that she would trust him to do the same for her, but there were still aspects of her life she hadn't completely shared with him yet, and her childhood was one of them. He knew the basics, knew the bones of the sore relationship she had with her mother, but the rest of it, the intricate details that patterned together to illustrate her tapestry of hurt, she kept closer to her heart than she should, close enough that it still huirt.

"She rushed to see Ava," she started, slowly, "She tried to tell me how to parent, tried to tell me what's best for my baby, because she has Ava's best interests at heart," Aaron scoffed and Emily rolled her eyes, "Or, she thinks she does." Again, she shrugged, "I don't know. I suppose I'm… jealous."

"Of Ava?" Aaron kept his face impassive, working hard to understand where she was coming from.

"Yeah," Emily touched her nose to her daughter's head, breathing in the evolutionarily enticing scent of baby that made her head rush and her heart swell, "Seems my mom cares more about her than she ever did about me." She looked up at Aaron, desperation in her eyes as she realised what she'd admitted out loud, "And, of course, I want people to-I want you to love her more than you love me, but-my own mother?" Her brows sloped down, confusion mingling with all of her other emotions, and he saw a twinge of guilt there, too, "Why couldn't she have loved me as much as she loves Ava?"

Aaron knew how much it took for her to say that; everything. Even before Ava, Emily couldn't admit how much she had craved her mother's love, as a child and into her adult years. She never spoke of how it hurt, Elizabeth's indifference, but he knew. He'd seen it in the way she still searched for her mother's approval, even as she simultaneously pushed away from her. He'd seen it in the way she always sent Elizabeth birthday and Christmas cards, even though she never got those in return. He'd seen it when Emily was in labour, when she cried out for her mother, and then made no mention of it afterwards.

He nodded. Even if nobody else would have understood, he did. He understood everything about her, everything she let him in on. He made it his mission to understand her, to help her.

"It's not crazy," Aaron said, shaking his head, "And it's not selfish. And it doesn't make you a bad mother, or mean you love her any less," At this, he exhaled, a short laugh of air, "God, no one could accuse you of not loving her, Em. I saw you when your mom took her from you. I thought we were going to be cleaning up a murder scene."

Emily raised one eyebrow, thinking back on the primal instinct that had grasped hold of her, "We almost were," she muttered, darkly, and Aaron laughed, again.

"See," he said, "You love her. You love her like a mother should. You're not the one who's wrong here, Em." His tone turned serious, as did his eyes, as he implored her to understand, "Your mom is. Every child deserves a mother who loves them as much as you love Ava, as much as you love Jack."

At this, she looked up at him, craning her neck, which was growing sore against the porcelain of the bath. There was an innocence, a sadness, in her eyes that he knew was much more to do with her exhaustion than it was to do with her interaction with Elizabeth. Her lack of sleep and her influx of hormones were catching up with her, and her bottom lip wobbled, adorably, when she spoke.

"I love them so much," she said, her voice cracking, "I just…I don't want to be like her."

"You're not," Aaron replied, instantly, shaking his head and, standing up off of the toilet seat, he reached down to take Ava from her chest. Emily didn't protest, and Ava didn't stir. Aaron leaned back, balancing her, instead, on his own chest. Supporting her with one hand, he offered Emily the other and she hauled herself out of the tub.

"Come on," he told her, "You should sleep while she sleeps."

"I won't be able to sleep," Emily said, sadly, even as she yawned, as widely as Jack had.

"Sure you will," Aaron pressed a kiss to her temple as they walked towards the bed, "Sleep now. We'll continue the fight against generational trauma tomorrow."

Emily punched him, lightly in the ribs, "Shut up," she said, but she was smiling, and she lay down as he pulled back the comforter for her. "I love you."

"We love you, too, mommy."

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#emily prentiss has mommy issues #and not the sexy kind #nature vs nurture #one shot #hotchners future au #hotchniss future au #ava hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #hotchniss #fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #ao3 #ff.net #elizabeth prentiss #tw mentions of pregnancy #tw mentions of trouble conceiving

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ihopeineverloseyou19 · 2 years

Text

Unrequited

Words: 5.6k

“What a horrible thing it is to look into your mother's eyes and see the love for you vanish. I’m sorry you had to raise a kid you didn’t want. I love you.” the cradle, berthe morisot

Read it on Ao3

You can let it go

You can throw a party full of everyone you know

The security the moon bought her was something Emily deeply missed about the summer's she spent with her grandfather. Him, so different to his own daughter who only had alway the same thing in mind. Politics. He was the one who showed her how to look closely at the sky, searching for stars. That's why Emily learned to take on the company of nature brought, with each night that she spent alone in her larger, oversized mansion.

She felt alone, the bunch of bodyguards always attentive in that house never made her feel any safer, nor comfortable. She had ached to be held for so many years, that when Jennifer Jareau, her new colleague at the BAU had hugged her tightly she almost broke down crying. JJ didn’t even know her, but Emily learned the hard way that those hugs would be the only constant thing she would have wherever she was in reach of the media liaison.

Emily had tried in her lifetime to be so many different people, so many hobbies, languages and extra curricular activities, all of them chosen carefully, comparing them to her mother's interest, for when they had to be inside of a room, alone together. It was not like her mother cared about her studies. She didn't. But Emily talked about them either way, never missing the little changes in her mother's posture when she reacted to something she disliked. Emily found the path to make her mother care. She destroyed herself, for nothing.

She thought then, that if she wanted to be loved so much, she had to learn to be everything her mother detested. She did it. Emily managed to get under her mother's skin and it worked, the ambassador had come to realize that her daughter, once little familiar, so polite was turning out to be like her late husband. Someone who didn't want to make her happy. Elizabeth had tried to fix her daughter, she had really tried, pointing everything she was displeased for. It didn’t work, so she took more trips to Europe, the necessary measures to leave her daughter alone, apart, something she didn’t see, didn’t happen. She left one night and never came back.

The inability to close her eyes was still there. Emily was not a very good sleeper. Not even when she spent so many nights parting in some unfamiliar kid backyard. No matter how tired she came from that, her body was not ready to rest. Emily had been drained of that lifestyle, the tiredness she felt deep in her home didn't make it for her brain to shut off and sleep. Something her therapist had recommended to her was actually to lay still in bed. Not thinking about not actually sleeping, but resting her muscles and her mind instead. There was something that didn’t let her sleep, after all these years Emily thinks that she had found the answer.

Being lonely was not a problem. It was never a problem, she was used to it. Tonight, it actually mattered, she could not really pinpoint why? Why did she need her mother so intensely? It could not be because of the case. They got kidnappings of children so often that she barely shed a tear when the parents and kids were reunited. It was something more. Something she didn't know where to start looking out for. But still here she was, ringing into her mothers house, talking to the security guards she has known since she was a kid. Moving her car forward to her mothers new house.

Elizabeth Prentiss had never stayed in the same house for too long. Emily’s last bedroom, the last room she had before leaving to the university had been sold out with the house she spent part of her childhood in. Emily was not someone who had sentimental value for things she once lost, for objects that didn't really mean anything to her. She never cried when she came back from the university to her old home and saw another family playing happily in her front yard. It was something she never really could do, she really didn’t understand at that moment how not having done something could make her so sad.

Emily was face to face with the large front door that separates her from her mother, funnily enough, the length of the door might as well be like something that had divide them into two, Emily had tried so hard to climb it, since she was little she had tried and when she thought she was close enough to get to know her, to understand her, something shifted and brought her down, making her bruises that would stay there, not healing, they could not be seen, not by other or even by her own mother. Elizabeth had never focused on her daughter enough time to see, to notice the suffering she was part of.

Her mother had never been one to open the door for anyone, she doesn’t even know why she was surprised when a maid opened it for her, directing her to where her office was located, first asking her if she had an appointment. Later then leaving her waiting, seated in an overspensive chair when she replied a polite ‘no’, her surroundings with drawings of mountains and fields, nature, something her mother detested, what was she thinking in the first place?

How can she be her mothers daughter? They never really had the same interest, never really connected. She had her mothers name as a middle name. At least Emily really thinks they didn’t not like what she did with her grandpa when she was left there in her holidays, maybe that’s why for some time she considered Paris home. Perhaps she could even move there wherever she retired from the FBI, buy his grandpa's old house and live there, solely living off what she planted. But her mother was not the one who named her, his father was.

"Miss Prentiss?" Her surname was called, not with the same emotions her team called her. Derek teasingly as he passed her the first coffee cup while she arrived at their break room, or Aaron, sternly not letting her go after an unsub unarmed. For the other she was 'Emily', for Reid who never got a costume to call her by uer surname or JJ, who loved to shorten her name and said it with so much care. Penelope who was always happy to see her, "Ambassador Prentiss is ready to see you"

Ambassador Prentiss, the woman who neglected her family, who only thought about politics and made her husband walk out on Emily when she was merely three years old. Ambassador Prentiss, a title that Emily resented so much, for not letting her have the only parent she should at least have. When her father walked out of her house, suitcase already prepared, a letter neatly flowed on their kitchen table, Emily knew. She knew that she was going to never see him again. No matter what, he promised her that he would call her and they would spend time together. She should have known. He never kept a promise.

“Emily?” Her mother's surprising tone should not have bothered her, not now that she knew the probabilities, “What are you doing here? She was standing in front of her desk, her computer opened all the way, papers spread all over her desk. Disorganized, something Emily thinks it's passed down to her.

“I was in the neighborhood” It was not a lie at all, Emily was in fact in the neighborhood, she came from Rossi’s house, who offered a glass before going to her home. Only someone like Rossi would have chosen to live close to her own mother. It was a rapid decision, something stupid, now that she ponders over it, she must have forgotten, she always does.

“Okay” Her mother’s tone hadn’t really changed towards her, she spoke as her daughter was someone she had to win over, Emily was accustomed to it, but somehow she would have wished to have a mother like Derek’s who offered her cookies the time her son was in jail by something he did not commit. Or like JJ’s mother, Sandy, who welcomed her one Christmas when she blurted the first year she was with the team that she didn’t really have any plans.

The silence between them felt heavy, there were so many things she wanted the answer to, that she really didn’t know what to say, what to talk about. Part of the reason she almost went into politics, but that the fear of becoming her mother had pushed her aside to something she had always been curious for. Something that helped her find a family she had always carved.

“Are you enjoying the BAU?” Her mother asks before she has the time to sit, that means that her visit had to be short, if there was something she knew about her mother, was how she treated her guest, who she liked, who she did not tolerate, she was not even looking at Emily as her mother typed away.

“I would not say enjoying” Emily stated, she liked her job, but for it to happen someone had to die, that was the part she did not enjoy from it. The rush she had when they were right and save another victim was enough to keep going and perfecting her skills, “We deal with some horrible things”

“I thought that was what you wanted” Her mother states as she still doesn’t look her way, her tone it’s not really what Emily was looking for in her mother, it lacked warmth, the kind of tone Penelope had.

“It is” She answered, this time she doesn't want to stay much longer, the reason she was here was completely forgotten. Her mother looks up to her and stares silently in her direction, “Then you do enjoy it”

“Enjoying it feels wrong” Emily would use other terms to describe her job she enjoyed hanging out with her team after a case, or the girls night that the job had given her. But her job, she liked her job, but something she wished people didn’t have to die for her to do.

“What would you call it?” Her mother inquired, taking off her glasses, she was tired of the conversation, which meant she was ready to finish it. To throw her out of her office at least. But she would be too impolite to say it herself, she would wait for Emily to finish, that was something she really learned across the years wherever she was forced to accompany her in her Ambassador duties.

“Why do we have to end up like this?” Emily questined, she was tired and really this was not how she planned to finish her day, in mid argument with her mother, she really should not have thought of any other ending to this. She chose to come here, to her mother's house, she knew how it would end.

“Where’s the bathroom?” Emily asks, not letting her mother respond, it would be the same phrase she always uses, one she learned to hate so much. The only thing that was constant was the times both of them were home where the arguments happened almost every time they crossed paths.

“Ronnie will help you get there” Elizabeth responds as Emily hands her the purse she came with, she wasn’t going to let her mother go away so easily, not now that she just arrived and had her full attention.

Emily splashed some water, completely ignoring the make up she applied this morning before going to the bureau. She was anxious and at this point in the day she didn’t care much about her appearance, she just wanted to have answers to the questions that kept haunting her. She wanted to make peace with the part of her childhood she knew she was never going to recover, but she needed closure for that, an answer that her mother was the only one that could give her that.

When Emily comes back she takes a seat in front of her, she needs to be as close as possible, to have her attention if she wants answers, "why did dad leave?"

"Because of you" The response was not supposed to sting so much, she barely remembered him, but she thought that between her parents he was the only one who had loved her. She was wrong.

"What?" She felt tears picking in the corner of her eyes. Her mother, or in this case the Ambassador, it was the persona she was talking about wherever they talked. The shadow of what her mother had been was long gone.

"He was tired of taking care of you" Her mother chuckled nervously, "I never wanted to be a mother" Elizabeth paused looking at her daughter, she was sure that Emily already knew that," I did it because I loved your father, until the moment he chose to walk out, leaving me with you"

Emily felt angry, angry at her mother for laying the blame on her. If she had known, she would not have felt so overwhelmed by the case they had weeks ago where an unsub was killing high powerful women, when they found the last body Emily could not help but visualize her mother or even herself laid in the cold morgue of the state they were in. To think that for a moment she had been afraid of losing her mother. The only parent that she had around. "I didn't even chose to be born"

Her mother doesn't tell her that she is sorry, Emily knows that she can't really can be "You made my life hell Emily, it tried so hard to love you, but I..I wasn't meant to be a mother"

"Are you telling me that it was my fault? Your inability to love me was my fault?" Emily chokes out, she should know better than this. She was a grown up adult. She knows how to be more composed than this.

"I'm just saying that-" the door opening forcefully stops her mother's words. Emily didn't really need to hear more, this was everything she never thought she would need to cut the ties with her. This was the last time she would ever come back here.

"Enough" JJ's stern voice cut through the air, Emily tuning around and her gaze landing on her colleague. The FBI liaison stood there, arms crossed, she seemed to be angry. Perhaps she was angry at her. She had promised to hang out with her as soon as she left Rossi’s house. She should have messaged her at least to let her know her change of plans.

"JJ" Her name turned out like a desperate sob, JJ knew partly why Emily had come inside, why she wanted to face her mother. She opened her eyes as Emily came crashing into the hug, clinging into her, JJ placed a kiss on her friend's hair. Eyes still firmly looked into the person she was enraged with.

“Let's get out of here” JJ guides her out, just like the maid explained to her, Emily’s purse already in her left hand as the other arm was cautiously over the brunette waist. Emily stopped in her tracks when her eyes scanned over the vacant parking lot, searching for her own car, but could only locate Jennifers. “Where…How did you know I was here?”

“I called Dave” JJ states as she opened the car door for her, going towards the drivers side, she turned the car into life and put the heating on, “I had a gut feeling that I would find you here when Rossi claimed that you we gone for about an hour”

“I’m sorry” Emily apologized,leaning into her friend, she knew that JJ would not start the car until she was good enough. Jennifer shakes her head, “It was not your fault, okay”. Emily nodded rapidly, how it could not be her fault?

“I did have to cancel your surprise party" JJ lightened the conversation disclosing what she had been preparing for weeks, “Seeing as the birthday girl wasn’t going to show up. I had to sent the guest home”

“I ruined my own birthday” Emily muttered, she was 35 freshly turned, “I just wanted to…I wanted for my mother to wish me a happy birthday” Emily paused sniffing back tears, “I don’t know why it hurt so much, she didn’t even remember the other ones, what did this one have that it would be special to recall?”

"My birthday has never been significant for her," Emily paused looking out to her mother's home, "I don't know, it has been irrelevant. I have been irrelevant for her"

“Buckle up” JJ stated as she started driving, she was determined to make Emily’s 35th birthday as memorable as possible, Emily needed to remember her birthday with something good. That was exactly what she was going to do. JJ was going to turn this into the best birthday Emily has ever had.

JJ’s apartment was full of balloons, presents scattered all the way to her living room. That was the first thing Emily noticed when Jennifer turned on the lights. Emily felt so overwhelmed, more so when she noticed at least ten glasses set up in the kitchen sink. Ten people. She ruined ten people's night for not showing up to her surprise party. She even ruined her own day. JJ’s hand was firmly pressed against her back, warm against the fabric of her shirt as she guided her towards the couch.

“Look at this mess” JJ muttered under her breath as she noticed how Emily gaze flickered down at the champagne glasses from her previous guest, “I’m not going to clean it up now, we can use it for tomorrow”

The remains of a party that she didn’t get to enjoy. Her own surprise birthday party, she never had one, she had thrown a lot during the years and had confided in JJ that she didn’t have one. Her best friend made it true, but at what cost, she didn't get to be in it. Instead she was getting answers.

“My mother…there must be a point in my life where she has loved me right?” Emily inquired, JJ’s gentle fingers in her hair, massaging her scalp, it calmed her, “If I had followed her footsteps maybe she would tolerate me more”

“She wouldn’t” JJ’s voice was firm, as if she believed herself, maybe she did, Emily could not focus that much, a grief that she had inside for too long, was devouring her. Mourning for a father and a mother that she never had. A family that she wished so hard to have, but that she never had.

“How can you know that?” Emily inquired turning around, completely pressing their bodies together, she needed to feel close to something, to somebody, she needed to see that she still had someone to lean into. Because JJ always let her, she let Emily bury her head in the crook of her neck, warm skin pressed against her check as she heard the liaisons heart thum thum thum, beating, alive. Emily hopes that she could somehow never lose this.

“Some mother’s aren’t meant to be mothers'' JJ's simple response makes Emily have to take a deep breath, she needs to calm herself down. It was done. She had closure with her mother. Still, she was sure that wherever it would be her turn to leave, that she would cry, like she did with her father. Like she would do for anyone she once loved.

“What a perfect day” Emily muttered, “I went to my mothers house, for her to wish me a ‘happy birthday’ and she didn’t even know” JJ’s movements stop completely, she notices that the liaison tenses for a few seconds, her heart picking the rhythm up for a little. Emily lifts her head with caution.

JJ swallows, changing her position, so she is seated in her couch, “She knows” JJ pauses as the words register in her best friend, “I called your phone before going towards your mothers house and she picked it up”

“What did she say?” Emily inquires, she knows that it would not be good. She recalls JJ’s entrance, how she entered the room, the quickness she had to keep her apart from her mother. JJ knew, she had to know that their mother daughter relationship could not be nothing more than professional, “please”

“No” JJ’s voice was soft, like it always had, “I’m not going to let you hurt yourself like that” JJ walked away from the couch. Emily felt relieved, she didn’t want to know, but part of her wanted to understand how her mother could have learned to hate her so much, “Was it my fault?”

“None of that was your fault” JJ turned off the lights as the candles, Emily’s birthday candles illuminated her way into where her best friend was seated, “You were not the issue, Em, you tried to please someone who was solely born for politics. Politicians can never be pleased, you know that”

“Now, I believe that it's still your birthday” JJ announces, placing the cake in her little coffee table in front of the couch, Emily positions herself next to her, her body pressed to hers. Without any space in between, they have always be like that, “Wish something before blowing out the candles”

“Would it be too much to ask for her love?” Emily inquires, blurting out her wish, she knew that it would be impossible, she had asked that same thing wherever she had a cake in front of her, and nothing happened, there was no magic that would make her own mother love her or even care about her daughter.

“It wouldn’t” Emily feels how JJ holds her hand, the movement so familiar for them, their fingers interviewed like most of the time are, in New years wherever they have to count back the second to welcome in a new year, they always find each other. Emily can’t really say that she didn’t even think how JJ’s lips would be on her own.

Emily blows the candles, the fire dissipating with a single puff, letting the darkness surround them, but she knows JJ, she could make her whole silhouette in the dark, she had studied her blonde colleague so many times, that if she wanted to, she could locate her lips, lock them with her own, Emily was sure that with the action she would still find nothing but love beneath.

"What did you wish for?" JJ inquired, her voice a little bit farther since now, a low light was hanging above them, the soft lamp JJ had purchased when she first moved in. Emily remembers how the two of them spent that afternoon, with glasses on wine, encircled by the instruction papers.

"I can't exactly reveal my wish can I?" Emily said as she drank from a glass of water JJ had bought her when they first came here, her gaze flickering between her colleague's lips. It was not the first time that happened. Emily was sure that it would not be the last.

JJ agreed with a nod, "I hope you like the cake I've picked for you" She had grabbed two plates, "the birthday girl usually does the first cut". Emily takes the knife and slowly gets a piece of the cake out. Like herself, she had lost so many pieces trying to become a better version for those who didn't even tolerate her, that now she feels incomplete, she doesn't even know who she is.

"It's a great cake" Emily teases, she profusely picked the side where the writing was not engraved, she liked to hold onto the message JJ had chosen for her, she places a lingering kiss on the cheek of her best friend, "thank you"

JJ breathes in, she tries to regulate her fast beating heart when she feels Emily’s lips in her skin, she should not be reacting to her touch like that. She shouldn’t be reacting to Emily like that, not today. Not after the day the brunette girl had. How can her heart be so selfish right now and lean in a little more as the kiss lingers more than ever?

“How does a mothers love feels like?” Emily mutters, her head lowered in JJ’s shoulder, a position she took upon wherever they seated together, side by side in the jet, moments before sleeping, the familiarity in everything that surrounded them was so calm, Emily thinks that they belong with each other. But perhaps she doesn’t have the energy to confess it today.

“A mother’s love is really no different from a mother’s hate” JJ responds, a chill running down her spine, she had experienced two types of childhoods, she knows, “The intensity between the words, the rage, everything is exactly as the love they hide” JJ pauses reflecting back to something her own mother told her, back when Ross was gone, “Did you ever heard the phrase, grief is all the love you could not give?”

Emily nods, she reminisces back to when her grandpa died, how she felt full of rage rather than sad, she was angry at him for leaving her so soon. For leaving her forever tied with her own mother, with nowhere else to go, but back to what she had a hard time calling ‘home’, where her mother and her resided.

Only one of her teachers had noticed her low academic declinment and forced her to go to talk with the school counselor, who cracked her open in two sessions with her. That woman had been kind and honest with her. She had explained to Emily that indeed it was normal to feel angry at him for leaving, but in the end all the anger would dissipate and the sadness would come in strongly, without her noticing. The sorrow would try to swallow her down, the memories and happy times would not have the same impact they once did. Most importantly she told her that it was okay for her to feel sad.

“Your mother” JJ takes in a deep breath, she was in no way a profiler, but she had her own share with grief and unrequited love with people from her own family, “Your mother, all she can feel right now is rage, but her feeling enraged or angry towards you is something good”

“How so?” Emily inquired, a yawn escaping lazily within her, she looked at JJ’s living room clock, it was late for them to be talking, her birthday was coming to an end and her wish was still not fulfilled

“Emotions are a complex thing” JJ states, her hair was already messy enough and no matter how much she brushed it, there was something there incapable of staying still, “That your mother feels something towards you even if it’s rage it’s a good thing” JJ drinks a little bit of water, her throat becoming dry in the process, maybe it was for the truth the words carried, or how much they hurt when her mother explained them to her when she was merely eleven years old, “A mother feeling something towards her child is better than if she feels nothing. It means that deep down she cares”

“I’m grieving for the mother that I had?” Emily was confused, she understood that her mother feeling something for her rather than not caring about her meant something, that Elizabeth still was attentive wherever she called, enough to call her back, showed her that maybe down the road there could be something there, even if it was insignificant.

“You are not grieving for the mother you have” JJ closed her eyes, she took herself a moment to get her point across, “You are grieving for the moments you wish you had between the two of you”, she noticed Emily had her eyes closed as she heard her.

“I already grieved for my childhood” Emily explained to her, “I grieved for my lack of stability and the places that I wished so hard I could have stayed when I finally got myself comfortable there. There is nothing more I can grieve from there”

"Teenage years?" JJ inquired, Emily had not let her too much inside her life, not her and no to anyone in the team. Emily had always been a guarded person, JJ had known it the first time she had hugged her, the first time they met. Her new coworker had been tense as she wrapped her arms around her. JJ did not give it too much attention, until some years later.

"Came back from my university to see that my mother had sold out the house she barely stepped a food in" Emily chuckled sadly, "I went to my car and cried my eyes out" Emily moved her position, this time looking up to JJ, who was calmly staring to her switched off TV, where they had see so many movies together, alone or with Penelope.

“And what about now? What about today?” JJ acknowledge, she knew that Emily could not bury what happened today to her so easily, she needed to have some sort of catharsis to get it out, she needed to talk

“What do you want to know?” Emily announced standing up, she was tired of being still, she needed to move if she was going to talk about the urge she had to go to her mothers house, why she stood thirty minutes in the street parked in front of her mothers house before getting the necessary courage to enter.

“Why you appeared there out of the blue” JJ wanted to underst her, she wanted so hard to get to know Emily’s reasons, deep down she knew that it was because she cared too much about her, that she was asking, instead of letting her go to her own home, but something was telling her that she needed Emily to stay. JJ needed her tonight.

“I guess that if I appeared there and comforted her so that I would have a reason” Emily admitted, she really should have seen it coming, her mother was never going to do it, she didn’t know why she ran away after work, after all her coworkers wished her a very ‘happy birthday’ towards the only person that didn’t care enough to know.

“A reason for what?” JJ inquired, Emily pacing in her living room was making her uneasy, she had never seen Emily so unsettled during the years she had known and loved her, Emily was everything to her, the last person she wished to see sad or even distressed. A person she confided nearly everything to, Emily was who she went to when she felt like the word was out of perspective for her.

“A reason for being unlovable” Emily chokes, with the words trailing out of her mouth. She spent so many years trying to ignore that feeling, the feeling that maybe she was not made to be loved. That she was not made to have stability during her life, and much less her love life. So many relationships because she was so intense and emotionless towards her partners.

“You are loved” JJ’s voice soothes her, Emily could not really believe her, how could she? After everything her mother said, how her father walked out of the house because of her, how could she be worthy of even someone's love, when her own mother didn’t even love her?

“My wish hasn’t been fulfilled” Emily announces as she sees the clock hit midnight, her birthday finished, she could leave this birthday behind, the story with her mother buried deep between her wounds. She notices how JJ walks towards her, she grabs her face, softly her fingers caressing her cheek, her lips so close to her own

“I love you” Is everything that JJ mutters as she locks her lips with Emily’s, her heart lowering, the muscles relaxing as she notices Emily pressing herself more into the kiss, into her, lips bruising against each other, as they both try to hold onto this moment, without letting go. It was everything both wished to do, and it was happening, it was finally happening, after years of unrequited love from their relatives, they found that love in one another.

Emily had lost part of herself every day she saw her mother look away from her, every minute she had to spend alone, by herself, with nobody around, the ambassador so deep in her work, her grandpa dead, she had nobody to lean into, until JJ. JJ who had changed that loath she felt to contact. JJ turned all of that into love, something she was sure she was going to cherish forever. JJ had been unknowingly a vital part of her growing up.

Emily really could not think about a better birthday than this one, her best friend or maybe something more by her side, candles already condensing into the melting cake, the remains of a party already forgotten surrounded them as JJ lead her to her bedroom, sleep came in easy to her wherever she was with someone she trusted. Jennifer made her want to take care of herself and it was something she would have to learn to do, something her mother neglected to do. But she was not alone. Emily had her and she knew that no matter what, she would never have to be alone again.

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