always been mine - emily prentiss x reader

*chapter ten // like a feature film

WARNINGS: mentions of child sexual abuse, smut

we haven't had smut in a while so i'm sorry for that but i promise i have it this chapter

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Six months. Six months since you saw Nate, six months since everything. The team ended up finding out pretty quickly, as some people were worse at secret-keeping than others. Morgan was especially concerned, which initially annoyed you although he meant so well. You just didn't want to talk about it.

"Y/N," he'd said, "if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here. I get it, alright? You're not alone,"

"Thanks, Derek. But it was a long time ago. I'm okay now," you lied. Certainly you were better, but you were not okay.

"You don't have to lie to me about this, Y/N. I know it's never gonna be long enough since it happened. But me, I take solace in the fact that I'm here, putting despicable bastards like Buford and O'Malley away, and they're rotting in prison, getting beaten by other criminals for being child molesters. It's inexcusable, what they did to us, and now our comeuppance is that we get to watch their demise like a fuckin' feature film." He calmed himself down. "I don't know if any of that helped you, or how you feel about it, but just know I'm here for you. We all are."

Strangely, you felt better after what he said. You thanked him and sat at your desk, putting your head in your hands with a huge sigh. Paperwork. 

-

You were less raw now. You didn't know if it was better or worse that other people knew, but it wasn't the same. Frankly, it didn't much matter. Nothing you could do about it now. While making dinner, you thought it would be a good time to ask Emily what she thought. You'd been wanting to do this for a while.

"Ems, I think I'm gonna take a couple days off soon,"

"For what? Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm good. I think I'm gonna go up to Concord." She took a moment to process what you said. 

"No, you're not,"

"It's important to me. I had Garcia check, he has visitor privileges,"

"I don't give a shit what his privileges are, why would you go there?"

"I need some closure, Em,"

"By visiting the man who—"

"Don't." She sighed. I didn't want to hear her say it.

"By seeing him in prison? Why do you have to do this? What's the reason, Y/N?" She'd come up to stand next to you in front of the stove. "Make me understand this, because I don't." Dinner was done, so you turned off the burner.

"I have to see him for myself. You don't have to come with me, I'm not gonna force you, obviously. But you're not gonna stop me from going, Em, so I would advise you to stop trying." You handed her her bowl, as you'd been dishing while you spoke.

"It's a bad idea,"

"I don't care,"

"You should think carefully about this,"

"I have,"

"Really?"

"Emily, I've spent more than twenty years being haunted by him. For you it's been, what, six months? And not nearly in the same way. Don't tell me I haven't been thinking about this because I've thought about it every goddamn day since I was eleven years old." You took a bite, your movements sharp and scathing. 

"I don't understand. You're right. It's not my place to tell you how to cope. But I don't think this is a good idea, and I won't pretend like I do,"