heart like yours (jennifer jareau)

2. twenty eight

•

"i can no longer fly, i who was winged from childhood." - anna akhmatova

•

Delilah stood in the kitchen of the BAU a few days later, pouring herself a coffee as she hummed along to the song playing through her headphones.

She'd gone to see Vince before the shift started and had quite happily trauma dumped at him before seven in the morning. She owed that man a lot of alcohol for putting up with her shit, but she did feel better now she'd talked about it.

It probably also helped that she and JJ had sorted things out. The mystery that was Delilah's mental illness didn't seem so scary to face when JJ was at her side.

But JJ wasn't stood beside her, right now. Derek was, texting his mom on his phone and then reaching over, tugging one of Delilah's headphones from her ear.

"Okay, I gotta ask," he said, looking at her.

"Yes, you did see me bring JJ in this morning," Delilah said.

JJ had not left the apartment since the case. Delilah was trying not to panic about that, but, apparently, they were just back to normal now.

"Okay," Derek nodded. "So, you two are friends again?"

"Yeah. We sorted it all out, talked it out and shit. It's... It's still a bit weird, while we get back into sync, but yeah," Delilah said.

"What did Liv say?" Derek asked.

"She's cool. She had a minute to process it and asked a bunch of questions, so, we told her what happened and she chilled out," Delilah said.

"That's good," Derek said. "Do you think Spencer's okay?"

"I texted him the number for my therapist," Delilah said. "But I can't make him go, and I'm getting the feeling that he isn't gonna want to talk about it. But..." Delilah said.

"But?" Derek said.

"You don't just turn out fine after being tortured, Derek. And he died for a minute. You don't just come back from that like you were before. He's gonna be going through a lot of shit and I don't know how to help him," Delilah said, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

"Who helped you through it?" Derek asked.

"I've never been tortured," Delilah said.

Though, she had been, just never with weapons. She'd experienced psychological torture, which was an entirely different league to the torture they'd seen Spencer experience. Delilah didn't doubt Spencer had faced some psychological torture, too.

"That's a lie," Derek said.

"It wasn't physical torture," Delilah said. "My therapist helped me. My dad. Liv," Delilah said.

"Well, you've given Spencer your therapist's number. You can tell him you're there if he needs help. I don't think there's much more you can do until you see any cries for help," Derek said quietly.

"I can't just stand by and wait for him to destruct. I have a bad feeling about this, Derek. He's not just gonna be fine in a few months," Delilah whispered.

Derek looked at her, a sympathetic look on his face. Delilah shook her head, her face slipping into a cold mask.

"No, see, because you're looking at me like I'm the victim. I'm not the victim here, Derek," Delilah said.

"You've got a bad feeling about this because you get it. Even if it wasn't the same, you get how it feels to be Reid right now. You got it with me-"

"I didn't get it with you because I was never sexually assaulted," Delilah whispered. "I was being empathetic because I know someone who went through the same shit as you."