"Fanfiction is the love letter fans write to their favorite worlds. Fans like us breathe new life into beloved worlds."
Alex / Allie (female), lesbian, 26
hey!! how are you? i hope youāre doing great! i was wondering (whenever the time is convenient for you) if you could please write me a carol peletier x daughter!reader story where reader was sophiaās younger sister but as the years pass by, she has to deal with becoming the same age or older than sophia was when she passed?
basically, little sister deals with the grief and stuff of becoming the age her big sister never saw, if that makes sense? thank youuuu :)
ā ļøTrigger Warningā ļø
This one-shot includes topics/mentions of siblings loss, kids death, grief. The plots are presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can“t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.
į---į
In a small, remote place next to a forest, where the forest was lined with tall trees and the sunlight struggled to make its way through the dense canopy of leaves when it rose, was the quiet town of Alexandria. It is a place that was permeated with sadness that day, with the painful memories of loss and the inevitable.
The morning silence broke by the chirping of birds and the gentle rustling of leaves as the sun slowly crept over the horizon and scattered its golden rays over the city. In a small grassy area surrounded by a low fence, you sat on an old swing that slowly swung back and forth.
You were a slender, delicate figure with wild curls falling around your face and eyes lined with countless tears. You wore a simple but tattered dress and clutched a yellowed letter in your shaking hand.
Two years had passed since the tragic death of your sister Sophia, a lively girl who was taken from life far too soon. Sophia was only twelve years old when she was beset by ruthless zombies and, despite your group's best efforts and prayers, she lost the battle.
You could still remember the day your beloved sister hid under the car with Carl while you stayed with your mother before she panicked and ran away. And now you sat here wondering how you could overcome the pain, process the loss, and at the same time keep the memory of Sophia alive.
The swing creaked softly under your weight as you swung back and forth, memories of the past dancing in your mind. You remembered the happy, pre-apocalyptic times you spent with Sophia. The endless hours you had spent roaming the playgrounds, the secrets and stories you told each other.
But now she was gone, and you were left to struggle with the rubble of your heart and the tears of your grief. You couldn't help but wonder why fate had to be so cruel, why it took away her chance to see you grow up, why you had only grown a year older than Sophia would ever be.
A bitter taste spread through your mouth as you brought your legs closer to your chest, looking at the yellowed paper you held in your hand. It was a letter and a drawing that you had written to her. A testimony of your love and connection, which you have carried with you over the two years like a precious treasure.
With trembling fingers, you unfolded the letter and read the familiar lines written to her in your delicate handwriting. More tears gathered in your eyes as the memories of your sister flooded over you, bringing the words on the paper to life.
"Dear Sophia," the letter began in the soft, curved letters of a twelve-year-old. "I know you will never read this, but I want you to know that you will always be in my heart. You are my sister, my best friend and my greatest treasure, and I love you more than words could ever express. I hope you can see the drawing I made for you from heaven."
The words blurred before your eyes as you continued reading the letter, reliving memories of the past. You remembered the promises you made to each other, the dreams you shared, and the countless possibilities that slipped through your fingers like sand in the hourglass.
But despite the pain and sadness that gripped your heart like an iron fist, you knew you had to be strong. You knew that you had to keep living for Sophia, that you had to keep the memories of your sister alive even as the world around you fell into darkness.
With one last loving look at the yellowed letter, you carefully put it in the pocket of your dress and looked back at the floor. You didn't realize that you had been being watched for some time by now.
Carol Peletier stood at the kitchen window, watching children happily playing around, laughing while the adults busy themselves with repairs, supplies, or tending livestock. It was a familiar sight, the feeling of normality in a world that was anything but normal. But something stood out, something that worried her.
Her eyes fell on you as you sat on the swing away from the others, your thoughts clearly far away. Your face was covered by a veil of sadness that was impossible to miss even in the midst of the happy hustle and bustle. She noticed the pain reflected in your eyes, the same sadness she herself often felt when she thought of those she had lost in this apocalyptic world.
Determined to keep you company and not leave you alone to grieve, she walked out and towards you, her steps firm on the uneven ground. As she got closer, she noticed you averting her gaze, as if you didn't want anyone to see your inner turmoil. But your mother knew that look all too well. She knew what it was like to hide her grief in order to be strong for others.
"Hey, sweetie," she said softly as she stopped in front of you and you jumped slightly, surprised by your mother's sudden appearance. "Is everything okay? You could play with the other children."
You tried to force a smile, but it seemed fake, like a dark shadow on your face. āIām okay,ā you replied quietly, but your voice sounded shaky and uncertain to her ears.
Carol gently placed a hand on your shoulder and looked you straight in the eyes as she sat down in the empty seat next to you. "You don't have to pretend everything is okay if it isn't. I can see that something is bothering you. If you want to talk, I'm here for you."
You lowered your gaze and twiddled your fingers nervously. "It's just... it's hard to talk about." You spoke and she nodded in understanding, understanding how much you were suffering. "I understand that. Sometimes it's easier to keep your feelings to yourself. But you should know that you are not alone. We are all here for each other, especially in the hard times."
A moment of silence fell between the two of you, only the soft rustling of leaves and the distant tapping on wood breaking the silence. Then, after a moment of hesitation and your foot playing with the sand beneath you, you began to speak slowly.
"It's just... it's hard for me getting older," you finally confessed quietly, sobbing and wiping your tears from your cheeks. "I know this sounds stupid, but... it's hard to accept that I'm older now than Sophia ever will be."
Carol felt a pang in her own heart at your words and the pain in your voice. She remembered her eldest daughter well, her innocence and her courage. The thought of never having the chance to grow up still hurt deeply. āItās not stupid, y/n,ā she replied softly, placing her arm comfortingly over your shoulders. "It's okay to feel this way. It's okay to be sad about what could have been. But remember that it's important to keep the memories of Sophia in your heart and in what you do. "
You looked up, your eyes shining from tears, as you let her embrace comfort you for a moment before you straightened up again. "But how can I do that when I miss her so much? When I never had the opportunity to see her grow up? I'm missing a piece of my soul."
Carol took your hand and squeezed it tightly, even barely able to hold back her tears. "By keeping her memory in your heart, by protecting and honoring those you love, just as Sophia would have wanted. She will always be a part of you, and you can be sure that she would be proud, who you have become."
"Thanks, mom." You said quietly, a small smile appearing on your lips. "I know it's not easy, but I'll try to be strong. I'll live for my sister and do all the things she couldn't do."
Your mother smiled lovingly at you and hugged you tightly again. "You will, love. Me and everyone else here will always be here to support and protect you, no matter what."
You sat together on the porch swing for a while, surrounded by the quiet murmur of life that pulsated around you. Despite the pain and sadness, Carol felt a deep gratitude for being able to share this moment of connection and comfort with you. And in that moment she also knew that even though Sophia was no longer there physically, she would always live on in your hearts.
hi how r u doing? Its been a while since you posted. I just wanna ask will fight falls have part three? cause to me the ending to part two is not an ending. If not then its fine. Anyway thank you for writing all these masterpieces and please never stop writing. You r like a gift from above hahaha.
Hey!! Iām doing alright, thank you so much for asking š«¶ It really means a lot that youāve been keeping up with Fight Falls. Youāre right, part two definitely wasnāt the ending š there will be a part three, I just need to sit down and actually finish writing it first haha. Thank you for being so patient and so kind with your words. Seriously, messages like this keep me going. Youāre the real gift here š
Authors note: This fic is dedicated to @toogay2besaved. I havenāt posted in a long while, but sometimes the right person deserves words no matter how rusty they feel. This is for you, my friend because even on the heaviest days, you deserve softness, comfort, and the reminder that you are not alone ā„
šš¢ššššš¦:
Something happens that reminds you of the traumas from your past, but in a surprising turn of events, it is not you who gets triggered the most, but Emily Prentiss, because she took care of you during your recovery.
The shrill crash of shattering glass rang in your ears before your mind could fully grasp the situation. The suspect had thrown himself through the window of the cafe, shards flying everywhere, and he was racing into the crowd on the busy street.
"He's running south!" Spencer Reid called breathlessly into his headset as he prepared to give chase. You were faster than his preparations. Your legs started moving and you felt the familiar rush of adrenaline burning in your veins. "I'm right behind him!"
JJ, who had been standing near the door, ripped it open, ran out and immediately joined you. Together you raced through the crowds of people strolling unsuspectingly on the street. Horns, shouts and the chaos of the big city mixed into a deafening noise that made communication difficult.
The perpetrator was nimble, a practiced movement in every move he made as he broke through the crowd. He knocked over a man with a cell phone in his hand, who fell to the ground cursing. A young woman with shopping bags stumbled over the curb as the suspect shoved her aside. There was sudden confusion everywhere, but JJ, Reid and you had only one goal in mind: the man who was weaving through the people like a shadow.
"Watch out, he's turning left!" warned Spencer, who was surveying the streets a few meters further back. His long legs carried him through the crowd surprisingly quickly, but JJ and you had the advantage of instinct. You knew this dance. You knew the hunt.
You turned the corner sharply, only to almost crash into a parked car a moment later. The perpetrator jumped over the hood of a car parked in a driveway and landed on the other side with a smooth roll. You followed him, slid over the hood with a powerful leap and heard JJ running around the car right behind you.
"We have to drive him into a dead end!" JJ shouted out of breath as she reached the next street. The crowd thinned out a little, but the danger increased.
Suddenly there was a deafening screech as a delivery truck raced out of a side street. The perpetrator rushed blindly towards the street and the driver slammed on the brakes. Tires screeched on the asphalt, smoke rose. In a desperate movement, the pursued man ducked to the side and narrowly escaped before running off again. JJ and you braked just in time, the blonde punched the hood with the flat of her hands before you continued to charge
Spencer Reid had almost run into the cargo area of āāthe delivery truck and had managed to catch himself at the last moment. With a sharp look, he saw the perpetrator slip into a narrow alley between two tall buildings. "He's taking a shortcut through the alley!" he gasped into the headset as he recovered from the near collision.
The alley was narrow, dark and filled with garbage cans and old boxes. The floor was slippery, full of rubble and puddles, but that didn't stop the man. You clenched your teeth and followed him unwaveringly, your legs burning with exertion, but you ignored the pain.
A dull thud made you look up - the perpetrator had knocked over a barrel, which crashed loudly into the wall and blocked your path. "Damn!" JJ dodged the obstacle at the last moment and stumbled, but just managed to catch himself on the brick wall as you jumped over the barrel without hesitation.
You came out of the alley onto another wide street, and at that moment you realized how dangerous the situation was becoming. The traffic here was flowing in a chaotic rhythm, cars rushing in both directions, and the perpetrator shot straight into the street. Honking and screaming filled the air. You could just see a taxi stop with the handbrake on as the perpetrator skidded past just in front of the bumper.
"Watch out, y/n!" Reid shouted from the other side, but it was too late. Another car barely from the opposite direction. You felt your reflexes saving your life as you threw yourself to the side in a flash, the vehicle not touching you. You rolled hard on the asphalt, but you got back on your feet immediately.
JJ also went onto the street, but she had been lucky and had waited for the right moment to slip through the cars. "I can still see him! He's running towards the market! Are you OK, y/n?" she called and sprinted on without wasting any time.
The market in front of you was a real labyrinth. Stalls with fruit, vegetables and other goods lined the narrow paths, and the perpetrator used the chaos to his advantage. He pushed people aside, knocked over tables and threw whole boxes on the floor to stop you. Oranges rolled across the floor, a tomato box broke in a flood of red, but you and JJ were not deterred.
"Spencer, cover us from the side!" you called. You knew that you had to corner the perpetrator before he could leave the market area. But he was fast, maybe too fast. Your lungs burned and JJ was panting next to you, but you remained relentless.
Suddenly, another scream. You saw the perpetrator knock over an elderly woman who was running through the narrow streets of the market with a basket. The basket flew through the air, apples and pieces of bread scattered across the ground. JJ reflexively jumped to the side to help the woman, losing sight of the perpetrator for a moment.
"Keep running, y/n! I lost him," she shouted, and you rushed forward while Reid appeared from the side and tried to flank the perpetrator. But the crowd was too dense, the noises too loud.
He continued to weave through the old town, his breathing heavy and panicked as he looked around. The houses loomed over him like walls, but he was unpredictable. In a moment of clarity, as you walked away from the market, you saw the man running toward an abandoned truck parked at the edge of the market. In a desperate movement, he reached for the door handle, but the door was locked.
He took a quick look behind him and saw you getting closer and closer to him. He was out of breath, his steps were getting heavier. You were the first to close the distance to a few meters. Your instinct kicked in and you accelerated again.
The distance seemed to shorten in slow motion and you mentally prepared yourself to jump and tackle him to the ground. But when he turned his upper body completely towards you and reached for something in his jacket, you stopped abruptly a few meters in front of him in the side alley.
"Hands out of your pockets, Abbott!" you shouted, your voice hard and authoritative as you pointed the gun at him and your steps slowed down. You knew he felt cornered - and that made him dangerous. "Lie down on the ground and put your hands behind your head."
He froze for a moment, scanning the alley with frantic eyes. Desperation reflected in his eyes as he realized the dead end he was currently traversing. The only way out was a window high above, which he didn't have enough time to reach.
Then, instead of surrendering, he lunged at you. A quick, brutal attack, and before you could properly react, he grabbed your wrist, slammed your arm into the nearest wall, and disarmed you in one mad move. The gun clattered to the floor, and you felt the adrenaline rush as you knew it would now come down to hand-to-hand combat to arrest him.
The perpetrator thrashed around wildly, but you reacted instinctively with a quick hook to the face and then with a targeted kick to the shin to throw him off balance.
"Give up!" you gasped, watching as he staggered for a short time. "I'm not going to jail!" he said with an animalistic growl and threw himself at you again. His strength surprised you as he pushed you against the wall. Your shoulders crashed against the cold brickwork and pain shot through one arm, but you continued to fight.
His hands gripped your neck tightly, his gaze more brutal and focused. You gasped, fighting desperately to free his hands from your neck. The world around you seemed to constrict, but a sudden groan from him told you that you had hit him in the ribs with a targeted blow, stealing the air from him. He backed away, letting go of your neck. It was just a tiny moment, but enough for you to catch your breath and hope that your team would arrive soon and help you.
It was a dance of violence. You dodged, blocked punches, dealt hits, but he seemed to be up to something. You ducked under another blow, and only then did you notice a blade shooting over your head. He must have pulled it out, as his hands moved along his body for a few seconds.
The perpetrator was faster than you expected. With a wild thrust, he ripped the blade through the air. You ducked again, but this time it hit you in the hip. You felt a burning pain as the blade grazed your side, blood gushed out, but you gritted your teeth and ignored the pain. It was just a graze, not deep enough to stop you. Not yet.
"You have to be better than that," you challenged him, grabbing his wrist, twisting it around in a hard, painful grip. The man screamed, the knife fell to the ground, but he pushed you away and kicked you in the stomach. You, panting and bleeding, stumbled against the wall, your hand protectively on the bleeding wound
Thoughts of a way out, how you could overpower him, flew through your head before you heard quick steps in front of you and raised your eyes.
Spencer Reid had taken advantage of the perpetrator's moment of inattention. Without hesitation, he threw himself at the man with all his strength, grabbed him from behind and brought him to the ground next to you. Abbott screamed angrily as he crashed onto the hard asphalt. Reid clamped his arm behind his back with a strong grip, his knee pressed into his spine while he put on the handcuffs with his other hand.
"Stay down, it's over for you." Reid gasped, his voice trembling slightly, but his grip was firm. The man screamed, raged, and tried to break free, but Reid didn't let up until the click of the handcuffs was clearly audible.
JJ came around the corner just in time, her eyes immediately seeking yours, leaning against the wall, one hand at your side. Blood seeped between your fingers, but it wasn't enough to seriously worry her - not yet. Still, her heart leapt.
"Y/n!" she called as she stormed over to you, her eyes fixed on you as she placed a hand on your back. "I... I'm fine," you whispered, trying to force a weak smile even though your face was pale. "Just a graze. The guy is tougher than he looks."
"You're tougher," JJ replied seriously as she carefully pulled your hand away from the wound and examined the blood. "But it's still being treated, no argument."
In the distance you heard the screeching of sirens. An ambulance stopped a few minutes later right outside the alley. The doors opened and paramedics jumped out, immediately rushing to you.
"Are you sure you can still walk?" the blonde asked, smirking slightly as she supported you and led you to the ambulance. You grimaced but grinned. "I'm not made of paper. But if you want to carry me piggyback, I'm in."
She shook her head, grinning. While the paramedics bent over your wound and took initial measures, you raised your gaze to JJ, who was standing in front of the ambulance with her back to you, monitoring the perpetrator, who was now safely in the hands of the police.
JJ turned abruptly to you and nodded. "Thanks to Reid, he's in custody. You already did the hardest part when we got here."
You leaned back on the stretcher and closed your eyes briefly as the paramedics continued to treat your wound. The adrenaline slowly wore off and the pain began to make itself known as a wild throbbing.
Some time later, you were sitting in the BAU team's black SUV that Spencer had driven to the crime scene. Your hip was covered with a makeshift bandage that the paramedics in the ambulance had put on you. The graze wasn't deep, but the pain was starting to get worse. It wasn't anything serious, you'd been told - but the attack had left its mark, both physically and mentally.
The proximity of the fight, the feeling of constant threat, and the glide of the blade across your skin had awakened something in you. You leaned your head against the cold window pane as the houses passed by. But it wasn't the pain of the wound that made you so still. It was the memories that came up, deeper scars that ached with every movement. You thought about the blood, the blade, the danger and how similar it was to a previous incident, one that had almost cost you your life.
"Are you okay?" JJ asked suddenly, her voice calm but attentive as she broke the silence in the car. Her gaze briefly wandered to the rearview mirror where you were sitting in the back seat. "Yes," you answered tonelessly. "It only hurts a little, nothing bad." But deep inside you felt the images of tonight mixing with the shadows of the past. You shook your head as if to drive these thoughts away.
"You know I don't just mean the physical injuries, right?" JJ let her gaze slide forward again, but continued to keep calm in the car. She knew that look in your eyes. She had seen it in you a few years ago, after you had almost been killed. But she also knew that this was the moment when you shouldn't push. If you wanted to talk, you would do it when you were ready.
Spencer, who had been silent until now, tilted his head to the side and looked over at you. "You're really good at hand-to-hand combat. Didn't think you could keep Abbott at a distance for so long.
"It's often the only option when you don't have a weapon," you smiled weakly. But behind your smile was a darker memory that you had to The truth was that she almost didn't succeed - the knife, the beatings, the constant threat had awakened old fears that you wanted to forget forever.
When the SUV finally reached the familiar buildings of FBI headquarters, you fought the exhaustion that was now hitting you after the adrenaline rush. You just wanted to get inside, maybe find some peace in the report and put the day behind you. But as you got out of the car, your hip throbbed more and you limped slightly, more from fatigue than actual pain, but it was enough to get noticed.
The BAU office was bustling with activity. Colleagues and other FBI agents rushed through the halls, phones rang, reports were typed up. And in the middle of this hectic routine stood Emily Prentiss. She was talking to a technician when she saw the entrance out of the corner of her eye and noticed you, JJ and Spencer entering the office.
Her first glance fell on your limping steps and your blood-stained turtleneck. Her stomach suddenly clenched and a cold wave ran through her body. Emily paused, her words faltering. The technician continued to speak, but she was no longer listening. Instead, she was just concentrating on your pained expression.
A flood of memories came over Emily. She remembered another night, many years ago, when you had been admitted to the hospital with serious injuries. The time she had spent at your bedside, the worry, the pain, the fear of losing you - it had been too much.
She remembered the endless conversations she had had in the silence of the hospital rooms. How she had tried to take care of you when you had woken up and been discharged, while she herself was not sure if she was strong enough to see you like this. Emily had watched you fight for your life, helpless and yet determined to do anything for yourself. And now, here, that past seemed to catch up with her.
But in all those moments, something had grown between you - a connection that was deeper than between normal colleagues. It was a friendship, a familiarity, but maybe it was more on her part. Something Emily had never said out loud because she wasn't sure. But now that she saw you like this - hurt, weak - she felt those suppressed feelings coming to the surface again.
Emily stopped talking and walked briskly towards the group. When she stood in front of you, she looked at you in silence. She blinked hard, trying to push the memories away, but panic crept inexorably into her chest. Her breathing became faster, the familiar feeling of tightness returned. The sounds around her seemed to blur, the babble of voices in the office became a dull roar. Her heart pounded against her ribs, her hands began to shake.
"How are you?" she asked, trying to compose herself, but it was too late. The sight of you, limping and covered in blood, was enough to ignite the storm inside Emily. Her chest tightened as the wave of fear took hold of her. Her hands clenched around your hip, but the trembling was no longer controllable.
"Emy, it's nothing..." your voice was shaky, but you tried to smile. It was only a thin, exhausted gesture, though. "It's just a scratch.
But Emily could see the pain in your eyes, not just the physical, but the psychological as well. "That looks different," she said quietly, her hand wandering from your hip to your shoulders. The twitch in your face told her everything. "Let me take a look."
You wanted to protest, but the exhaustion took control. You let Emily, feeling the familiar warmth as she placed a hand on your lower back and gently guided you through the office doors. Spencer and JJ watched the brief conversation between the two of you, but said nothing. They knew there were things that were only shared between you and Emily, and that was fine.
When you reached one of the meeting rooms, she sat you down on one of the chairs before kneeling in front of you, her cool hands slowly pulling the sweater out of your pants, careful not to hurt you further. "Em.."
But she barely heard you. Her hands shook faster as she examined your wound. It was as you had said - the cut was superficial, not life-threatening. But the image that flashed before her eyes was different. She didn't see the shallow cut. She didn't see the present. In her head she saw the image from years ago again - you, covered in blood, barely breathing, in an ambulance.
Back then, when you narrowly escaped death, Emily had lost almost everything that night, and that fear, that helplessness, had burned itself into her heart. She had thought she had dealt with it. She had stayed strong, for you. But now, in that moment, she realized that she had never really healed the scars she had herself.
You quickly realized that something was wrong when you felt the change in her - the way Emily suddenly turned pale, the way her chest rose faster and flattened too briefly. "Emily?" your voice was soft, but she still didn't listen to you. You knew the look on her face. That panic.
Emily backed away, her hands reaching for your thighs, searching for support. Fear and helplessness overwhelmed her. "You... you're hurt... the blood..." her words were breathless, almost brittle. For that moment, she was no longer the tough, hard FBI agent, but a woman who had lost far too much and was afraid of losing the best thing in her life. "I... I can't do this..."
Her eyes were wide as she stared at you, but it was as if she was trapped in another moment. The memories were suddenly so vivid for her, as if she were there again. You realized what was happening and despite the pain in your hip, you leaned forward, placing your fingers under her chin. "Hey," you said calmly, "look at me." But Emily couldn't. Her chest rose and fell more frantically, the room seemed to spin around her.
You tightened your grip on her chin slightly to bring Emily back to reality. "I'm here. I'm fine. It's just a small cut. Can you hear me? It doesn't hurt as much as it looks."
Her gaze wandered from the blood and the location of your injury until it finally fell on your eyes. Her hands clenched around your wrists, her breathing still unsteady, but something in your calm, gentle tone seemed to reach her and her chest began to stabilize into a normal rhythm. "But you... you're hurt. It could have been worse. You... I could have lost you."
"No," you said, scooting forward despite the slight trembling in your own legs. "Look at me. I'm here, in one piece. It's just a cut. Look." You lifted the end of your sweater again and took it between your teeth so you had both hands free. You carefully pulled the bandage down a little further so Emily could see the cut better than before.
She stared at the wound before her gaze wandered a few inches up to where another scar adorned your belly button. Her mind took her back to a moment that had almost broken her. You took her hand, grabbed her fingers and ran them over all the scars that adorned your stomach and sides. "I got through that time. With you," you said softly, her fingertips gently tracing the scarred skin. "And I will get through this too. It's nothing you need to worry about."
Emily closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her hands slowly stopping shaking the longer she stroked the wounds of the past. She could feel reality slowly catching up with her, the room around her taking shape again. "I'm sorry," she finally whispered. "I just never wanted to see you like that again, I'm sorry."
You smiled gently, although the pain in your hip grew stronger the longer you remained in that position. "You don't have to apologize. I know what you went through back then. But I'm strong, okay? And so are you, Prentiss."
She nodded weakly, still deep in her thoughts, but the panic seemed to be fading. "Thank you," she continued to whisper, her voice barely audible. You took her hand from your stomach and squeezed it gently. "I'm here, and I'm fine. I promise you. I might just need a little more wine tonight than usual."
She laughed briefly, the glint in her eyes slowly returning. "Agreed. But first you stay here for a bit and rest. Maybe lie down on the couch," she said gently, standing up, her eyes piercing you but full of concern as she waited for you to get up. "I'll take care of your work and you."
You nodded, too exhausted to argue further. As you sat down on the sofa and leaned back, you felt the weight of the day slowly fall away from you. The room was quiet and you could finally close your eyes for a moment.
But Emily stayed. She took a step back, leaned against the wall and watched you from afar. Her thoughts were a tsunami of memories, fears and feelings that she had buried deep inside herself. The concern for you that was growing inside her was not new - but this time it was different. More intense. And she knew that she couldn't just watch you get hurt again, neither physically nor emotionally.
As she stood there, Emily felt something floating between you. Something unspoken that had existed for a long time. She couldn't name it, couldn't understand it. Maybe because she had never felt anything like it before. But in that moment, when she saw you sitting there, exhausted and vulnerable, Emily knew for sure: She would always be there to protect you. No matter what it cost.
Your eyes opened and for a moment you looked at each other, and in that look lay a whole world of emotions - gratitude, affection, but also a deep pain that no words could really express. But she knew one thing. Her feelings had been growing steadily since the day she lost you and not a moment passed when she didn't want to reveal them to you.
But perhaps soon, she would be given the opportunity to confess them to you. Maybe even tonight.
What are you up to this weekend? Do you think you could post a story of yours at the beginning of next week if you find some time? I really miss your stories!
(Preferably CM or maybe L&O-SVU - thank uuu favorite writer ā„ļø)
I'm on a trip with Jen. It was her birthday and I treated her to a weekend at the spa. But yes, I can write you something and post it on Monday, nonnie! ā„
Writing a book is so frustrating, it doesn't matter how many books you have already written. It's like assembling IKEA furniture without instructionsāor worse, with instructions in a language you donāt speak, missing half the screws, and realizing halfway through that you were trying to build a table, but now itās definitely turning into two goddamn chairs.
But hey, at least you can console yourself by telling everyone youāre a writer/author! Well, before they ask "When can I read it?" And you laugh, cry, and say, "Thatās a great question!"
New book "The Patient" will be published in summer. God save my nerves and help me write š
Can you write me a fanfic where Emily Prentiss asks why Reader never talks about her family and Reader tells her. Emily is just sitting there, keeping you in her arms and not saying anything because she doesn't know what to say?
Authors note:
I changed your request a little to fit my story. I hope that's okay. Other than that, not really well written because I was in a rush. Sorry!
į---į
The tension lifted from the air in the Behavioral Analysis Unit and a feeling of relief flowed through the entire team as they had once again successfully solved a case that had threatened the life of an innocent child.
Dr. Spencer Reid was already back at his desk full of documents, his eyes focused on the pages in front of him. His fingers glided over the keyboard of his laptop as he checked the final details of the report. Next to him sat Penelope Garcia, also typing on her keyboard with flying fingers, reconciling the final technical details of the case in order to complete her report as well.
At the other end of the room sat Special Agent Derek Morgan, his demeanor calm and collected as a soft clink of metal on metal rang out as he disassembled his weapon and cleaned it. Beside him stood Emily Prentiss, watching Derek with her arms folded and a thoughtful expression on her face.
As the team tried to calm down and recover from the adrenaline, Jennifer Jareau returned to the room, followed by a couple with immediate quick steps. A bright smile graced her face as she approached the team. "They're here," the blonde said quietly, her voice filled with joy and relief.
All eyes immediately turned to the couple standing next to JJ. They were the parents of the missing child who the team had successfully found and rescued as part of their case. The worry and fear of the past few days had left deep marks on their faces, but now that they knew their child was safe, you could practically feel the pain and worry falling from their shoulders.
The child, a little boy, slept peacefully in David Rossi's arms and when he got up and gently placed the boy in their arms, his father immediately patted his small head protectively. "Here he is, safe and sound." he spoke, his voice filled with warmth and compassion as he watched the parents hug their child tightly as if they never wanted to let him go, tears of joy streaming down their cheeks. The terrible hours of waiting seemed to slip away.
The parents couldn't hold back their tears as they hugged their child tightly and their hearts seemed to burst with happiness. A feeling of gratitude filled the room as the couple lovingly embraced each other, holding on to their found happiness.
But as the happy family embraced and the team watched the happy reunion, Emily wondered where you were. After all, you were the one who fought with the kidnapper and had to suffer some injuries yourself to free the child from his clutches. Only when she turned her gaze up to the bridge, where you were standing at the railing, leaning on it with your arms to observe the situation from a distance, did she see your dull eyes, full of emotion, looking at the heartbreaking scene with a thoughtful expression.
In the years you had already spent with the BAU, you had witnessed countless moments like this - happy reunions of families threatened by evil. But this time you were already very withdrawn and distant at the beginning of this case.
She didn't know that your thoughts drifted to your own parents - parents who had never felt the joy and happiness of being able to hold their children in their arms. There was a hint of deep sadness in your eyes. Although you were genuinely happy for the child's well-being, you couldn't help but think about your own parents.
They were trapped in the bonds and destructive power of violence. For them there were no happy reunions, only endless days of suffering and despair.
As you watched the happy family, you felt an unquenchable emptiness inside you. You missed the carefree and love of an intact family, but you knew that breaking away from your parents to protect yourself was the right decision. Even though you longed for a hug, for the words of love and comfort you never received, your life was characterized by loneliness and past pain, by the constant search for recognition and affection that was denied you in your childhood and youth.
Emily couldn't look away from your gaze, couldn't ignore the bitter smile that crossed your lips and the tears forming in your eyes as you forced yourself to push away your thoughts and focus on the present.
With a soft sigh, she walked away from the scene and made her way to you. Thoughts swirled in her head as she thought about how to start the conversation. She finally reached you and stopped next to you. "How is your pain?" She asked softly, her eyes trained on you as you received it with a surprising look.
You hesitated for a moment, clearing your throat and quickly wiping the tears from your eyes as you repositioned yourself before answering. "It's bearable. Thanks for asking."
But Emily Prentiss wasn't going to be brushed off so easily. She could see that something was bothering you and she desperately wants to help you if she could. "If you want to talk, I'm here for you. You know that." You looked down, reflecting a mix of gratitude and surprise in your teary eyes. "It's nothing," you murmured quietly, but Emily could sense that there was more than you wanted to reveal.
"May I ask you something?" She asked and a moment of silence fell between you as she turned her body towards you, moving closer to you. You nodded, switching your gaze between the event below and her eyes. "Why don't you ever talk about your family?"
Your eyes widened at the question and a soft sigh escaped your lips, thoughts of your own past and the decisions you had made pushing their way back to the forefront once more. She had caught you in the act, used her skills to see through you. "Family stops becoming family the second they shatter your heart and leave you to pick up the pieces without an apology." You finally confessed and she nodded in understanding.
"Family can be complicated. But you don't have to struggle with it alone. You can trust me, I'm here for you." She spoke and you took a deep breath before starting to tell your story. "I am grieving people who are still alive, Em," you began, starting with your childhood, talking about the challenges you had with your parents and how you ultimately cut off contact with them because it became too stressful. It was an act of self-preservation, but it also left a deep void in your life. "Family betrayed me so badly, I had no choice but to cut contact. They had forced me to step on eggshells, wounding my skin simply to keep the peace."
As you spoke, she listened intently, her eyes full of compassion and understanding. She could feel the pain and uncertainty that lay behind your words, and Emily felt honored that she had earned your trust far beyond the one you already gave her.
When you finished, she placed a gentle hand on your bandaged forearm and smiled warmly. "Thank you for telling me that. You're stronger than you think, and you're not alone. We're a family here, and we'll always stand up for you."
You felt a wave of relief wash over you as you listened to her words. You felt understood and accepted, and that meant much more to you than you could have ever expressed.
"Rossi once told me that he sees you as the daughter he never had. Spencer talks about you like you're his sister and Morgan protects you like a big brother," Emily began with a hint of tenderness in her voice. "JJ is like a mother, always checking on you if you're eating enough and cares for you when you get hurt. And you don't have to ask me, I would run through fire for you because I love you. No matter what happens, we're here for you."
A warm smile spread across your face as you fell into her open arms and hugged her. "Thank you for being there for me."
And in that moment, you felt like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders and you knew that you had found a family - not only in the team, but also in the warm and sensitive soul of Emily. Maybe your past would stay with you for a long time, but if you continued to be with your family, it was worth any fight to finally put the past to rest.
hi!! iām so sorry i havenāt texted any, iāve been super super busy!! im going to try and message you as soon as I have time to sit down and take a moment to myself, i hope youāre well and that nothing too crazy happened since our last conversation! šš
Lillie!
I thought you were very busy. But that's totally okay! Take the time you need and text me whenever you feel like it and have time. I'm always here for you ā„