I See you, Y/N. (Emily Prentiss X Reader)

-26- It's your way or mine

Big TW: Anxiety/Panic
               Suicidal Thoughts& Suicide
               Razorblades/ Pills
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Y/N's POV

"And one last time, you can do it."

I lift my left leg one last time and the effort brings tears to my eyes.

I place my foot on the step in front of me, trembling. As soon as I shift my weight forward onto my leg, my knee buckles and I stumble.

Chrissy is standing behind me and catches me immediately, but it still feels like I'm falling several feet.

I'm frustrated, sad, exhausted.

My body is failing me and I hate it.

Chrissy keeps holding me as I take my foot off the stairs and sink into the chair she provided.

"That was good work, Y/N. You're making progress."

"Oh really? This definitely feels different,"
I scoff bitterly, swallowing the tears burning in my eyes.

"Yes, really. Don't be so hard on yourself. It will take some time, but it will get better."

I don't look at her, embarrassed that I'm letting my feelings run wild.
I feel small and helpless and broken.

"Y/N. Maybe you should talk to a psychologist. Dealing with all this can be difficult..." She places a hand on my shoulder and even though I know she means well, I want to scream at her that she has no idea.

"It's okay. I'll deal with this on my own,"
I reply, harsher than I intended, and let out a shuddering breath of all the anger building up inside me.

She takes a step back and raises her hands in a placating manner, but says nothing.
"I'm sorry, Chrissy. I didn't mean it like that. It's really hard..." I add, ashamed.

Chrissy smiles at me understandingly,
"It's okay, Y/N. Your anger has to go somewhere, I understand that..."
she hands me my knee brace, which we had left out for the exercise.
"You should wear this more often, it can really give you support."
She turns her back to me and starts putting away the things we used for the Exercises.
I sigh and put my knee brace back on.
I had only put it on this morning when I remembered my appointment for physical therapy.
In everyday life I often forget it on purpose because I hate this thing.

But I know Chrissy is right.
How does she know I haven't been wearing it?

Chrissy heads back to me, nods contentedly as I close the brace and then hands me my crutch so I can lift myself up.

"Hey, Chrissy. I think I left a teddy bear in my room when I was discharged. Was it found?"
I ask casually and feel kind of stupid.

Like a little child, I ask about my forgotten toy, ridiculous.

"Oh, that's yours? Of course, we found it. It's sitting in the nurses' station waiting to be picked up. I'll get it for you."
Luckily, she doesn't seem to find my question ridiculous or stupid at all and doesn't think I'm childish because I still own a teddy bear.

"Thank you." I breathe and follow her into the hallway.
My leg trembles with every step, but I try to ignore it.
I stop in front of the nurses' station and call an uber while I wait for Chrissy.
"Here you Go."
Relief floods over me as she hands me my teddy bear.

Was he always this heavy?

I accept it gratefully and would love to hold my teddy immediately close to my heart.
Instead, I pack it in my backpack with a silent smile and thank Chrissy.
We say goodbye and I make my way to the exit.
In the Uber, I am lost in my thoughts and try to think only of pleasant things.
Nevertheless, the memories of my time in the basement come flooding back.
Tara's questioning brought these images back to life.
I hear my mother's voice in my head, quiet, but it is there.