Good Luck, Babe! Pt. 2.
PART 1 | PART 3
Description: Continuation of part 1. Emily confides in Garcia after JJ runs out crying. JJ goes home and tries to cope by getting drunk. No one has heard from her in a while and despite Emily being hurt, she goes to check on her anyway.
Tags: Slightly angsty, V sad Emily, V drunk JJ, Sober JJ is clumsy, wait until you see drunk JJ, mommmy prentiss taking care of JJ, Penelope being such a cute friend, mommy prentiss is mad at JJ but she can’t help the way she feels, drunk JJ is cute but also clearly has a problem.
Chapter 2/??
Not my pictures.
“What happened with JJ? Oh my god, Emily, what’s wrong?” Penelope Garcia burst into Emily’s office, panic etched across her face after she had spotted JJ leaving, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Emily jolted at the intrusion, quickly composing herself and wiping her eyes, but it was too late. “Not now, Garcia. Please leave,” she coughed, her voice trembling with the attempt to suppress her emotion.
But Penelope couldn’t leave; not after witnessing the distress etched on both her friends' faces. She had tried to catch JJ, but the woman had vanished before she could reach her. “I’m not going anywhere. JJ just stormed out, sobbing, and now I find you in tears too? We all know that when Emily Prentiss cries, something must be terribly wrong.” She settled into the chair JJ had just vacated, her heart racing with concern.
Emily forced a humorless chuckle, sinking into her office chair, her gaze fixed on the ceiling. “It’s so complicated, Penelope. You have no idea.” A tear escaped, tracing a path down her cheek.
“That’s why I’m here. What’s going on?” Penelope leaned forward, genuine worry painting her features.
“It was me. I was the woman,” Emily whispered, her voice cracking as the weight of her confession bore down on her. Tears streamed down her face, and her breath hitched. “We slept together once. I don’t know how it happened, but I loved her so much, Garcia. I was completely in love with her, and she chose Will. She chose him and told me it meant nothing.” Rage flickered in her eyes, mingling with the hurt. “Then she walks in today, telling me she’s gay and that she did love me back then, but that she was broken.” Emily turned to Penelope, her pain raw and palpable. “She hurt me so badly. All I ever wanted was for her to love me back. And now she’s saying she did? Ten years? We could’ve had—something.”
Penelope was taken aback. She had been close to both women during that time and had never suspected a thing. The strength it must have taken for Emily to bury her pain was staggering. “I’m so sorry, Emily. I can’t believe you went through all of this alone. I wish you’d told us; we could’ve helped.” She edged closer, resting her arms on the desk, offering what comfort she could. “I know this happened a decade ago, but why can’t you both have something now? She’s left Will, she’s embraced who she is, and she confessed her love for you!”
Emily shook her head persistently, her hand lifting as if to put a wall up, blocking Garcia’s statement. “No way. I won’t let her hurt me again. I can’t trust her. How would I know she’s telling the truth this time? She’ll probably run back to Will, breaking my heart all over again. Nope.” Though the tears had ceased, her eyes remained red and swollen, reflecting her current emotional state.
Penelope wanted to scream in frustration, but she knew better. Her friend was in pain, yet all she could see was the possibility of love rekindled. “You won’t know unless you talk to her, Emily. She was really upset.”
Emily rolled her eyes, bitterness creeping into her voice. “Good, now she knows how I felt.” The resentment clung to her like a second skin. She wished JJ had never opened her mouth.
Meanwhile, JJ stumbled down the corridor of her apartment building, desperate to escape the weight of the conversation she had with Emily. Tears still stung her eyes, and she sniffled, wiping her nose as she unlocked her door and stepped inside.
The silence of her apartment was deafening. The bare walls and minimal furniture mirrored the emptiness she felt inside. She tossed her bag onto the kitchen counter and opened the fridge, the sound of clinking bottles breaking the heavy stillness. Grabbing a half-finished bottle of tequila, she contemplated a glass but discarded the thought, lifting the bottle straight to her lips. The burning liquid seared her throat, and she grimaced. “Ugh, fuck, that’s gross,” she muttered, heading to the lounge and collapsing onto the couch.
Hours later, JJ woke on the couch, sprawled awkwardly, her arm dangling off the side. The shrill ringing of her phone pierced the fog of her drunkenness. She groaned, hoping it would stop, but it persisted.
Flinging her leg off the couch, she used her hands to push herself up, stumbling slightly as the room seemed to tilt around her. She shuffled toward the kitchen where her phone lay, misjudging the distance to the coffee table and catching her foot. She fell, crashing onto the glass surface, the sharp sound of shattering glass filling the room. A scream escaped her lips as shards flew, some embedding in her skin. Lying on the ground, a low laugh escaped her—a bittersweet acknowledgment of her situation. She was grateful for the alcohol dulling the pain.
Eventually, she managed to rise on all fours, groaning as she crawled toward the kitchen, glass cutting into her hands and knees, leaving a trail of blood in her wake. She reached the counter, desperately grabbing her phone, which still buzzed relentlessly.
“What? What do you want?” she grunted, leaning back against the kitchen island, her head spinning.
“JJ, it’s Garcia. Where are you? Are you okay? You left hours ago and haven’t answered anyone’s calls! We’re worried! You didn’t tell anyone where you were going, and I kind of told Prentiss, and now she’s coming to find you. Please don’t hate me; I’m so sorry!”
JJ laughed, the absurdity of the situation hitting her. “Well great, Garcia, I’m drunk as fuck right now, and the woman I love is coming to my house.” Realization washed over her, and she corrected herself, “Loved, loved. I do not love her, but she’s gonna freak, Garcia. I kinda may have fallen and broken my coffee table, and there’s a lot of blood. You gotta call her and tell her to go.” She struggled to contain her laughter, knowing it was darkly humorous.
“Blood? JJ, what the heck happened?! Are you okay? I’m not telling her to go; you obviously need help! Do I need to call an ambulance?!” Panic flared in Garcia’s voice.
“No, no, don’t call an ambulance. It’s just a little cut—” JJ halted at the sound of a knock on her door. “Ah, fuck, Garcia, she’s here! You can stop freaking out now.” She hung up and tossed the phone to the floor.
Emily stood outside, dread pooling in her stomach. She didn’t want to be here, but she couldn’t ignore her concern for JJ. “JJ?! It’s Emily! Open the door!” She knocked urgently, her heart racing.
“I’m coming, hang on!” The drunk woman yelled. She stayed leaning against the kitchen bench, she couldn’t quite find the strength to get up. She drank half a bottle of tequila, there’s no doubt she was still trying not to completely black out.
“JJ?!” Emily’s voice came through the door, accompanied by more knocks.
JJ jolted awake again “oh” she chuckled; forgetting her boss was outside her door. “I’m coming, I’m coming” she used all her strength to drag herself up on her feet. Finally, JJ appeared, barely managing to keep the door open, the safety chain still in place. “Em, hi! What’s up?” Her heavy-lidded eyes and goofy smile betrayed her inebriation, but it was the blood—dark and smeared across her face—that sent a jolt of panic through Emily.
“JJ, oh my god! What happened?” Emily gasped, alarm flooding her senses.
JJ waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, nothing. Clumsy me, I just fell,” she slurred, squinting against the bright hallway light. “Sorry you had to come here; I’m fine, so you can go now.” She attempted to close the door, but Emily wedged her foot in the opening.
“JJ, you’re drunk. You’ve got a cut on your head that looks serious. Open the door so I can help you.”
With a dramatic sigh, JJ rolled her eyes. “Ugh, fine.” She shut the door briefly, then opened it fully, removing the safety chain. “Fucking Garcia,” she muttered, staggering back into the kitchen. “Welcome to my lovely home! Want a drink? I finished the tequila, but I’ve got vodka, whiskey, gin…” She opened the fridge and yanked out a bottle of vodka, twisting off the cap and tossing it aside. “Let’s have vodka; hope you don’t mind sharing the bottle.” She laughed and took a long swig, wincing as the liquor burned her throat.
“Hey, no, no! Put that bottle down!” Emily’s heart raced as she took in the chaos around her—glass and blood strewn everywhere. She rushed toward JJ, desperate to take the bottle from her.
“What? You got a problem sharing the bottle? We fucked once, remember? Now you care about saliva?” JJ tried to lift the bottle again, but Emily swiftly intervened, wrenching it from her grasp and hurling it into the sink, where it shattered, spilling vodka everywhere.
“What the fuck! That was my vodka!” JJ shouted, irritation flashing in her eyes, but Emily wasn’t backing down.
“Jennifer, you’re bleeding! My god, you’ve got glass everywhere.” She inspected JJ closely—blood trickling from her hands, knees, and staining her shirt. “We need to take you to the hospital.”
JJ pouted like a petulant child, her hands drooping to her sides. “No, Em, please. I don’t want to go. Can’t you just clean me up? Pretty please?” She looked up at Emily with a wide, almost giggly smile, her eyes pleading like a child’s.
Emily watched, concern tightening in her chest. JJ was clearly not in a good place. Guilt washed over her; she felt responsible for this reaction. “Fine. Your room now. Where’s your first aid kit?”
JJ smirked, raising an eyebrow playfully. “Oh yes, Agent Prentiss, I’ll go to my room now. The first aid kit is in the bathroom.” She stumbled away, a giggle escaping her lips that felt disjointed against the gravity of the moment.
As JJ disappeared down the hallway, Emily whispered to herself, “What the fuck?” A wave of anger had coursed through her earlier, but now all she felt was worry. How had she missed the signs of JJ’s struggle? This wasn’t like her at all; JJ never drank like this. The sight of her friend, so unlike herself, sent a chill through Emily. She had never seen JJ this way before, and it scared her.
