ℒ𝒾𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒪𝓃 𝒯𝒽ℯ 𝒟𝒶𝓃𝒸ℯ ℱ𝓁ℴℴ𝓇 [𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝟏]

𝟑.𝟎𝟗- 𝐁𝐲𝐞 𝐁𝐲𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲

Authors Note!

Hey, y'all!
If I were to name this chapter something that isn't the episode title, I would call it:
"Crying My Eyes Out"
Because that is what I was doing the entire time I was writing it. Hope you enjoy!

- Emms
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˚✧.⋅₊˚ ‧ 🩰⋅୨୧ ⋅🦢 ‧₊˚ ⋅.✧˚

["Dance To Express, Not Impress"]

The night was quiet, the faint hum of the city outside muffled by the thick walls of the apartment. Emily tossed and turned in her bed, the comfort of her blankets doing little to soothe the unease that had settled deep within her. The memory of the kidnapping attempt replayed in her dreams, twisting and warping into something even more terrifying.

She was back outside the theater, the lights bright and the crowd buzzing as she signed autographs and posed for pictures. But then everything shifted. The cheerful chatter of fans faded, replaced by a suffocating silence. Suddenly, a hand grabbed her arm, yanking her backward. She tried to scream, but another hand clamped over her mouth. Her heart pounded as she struggled, kicking and thrashing against the shadowy figure that dragged her away from the light. The more she fought, the tighter their grip became.

"Help me!" she tried to shout, but no sound came out.

In the distance, she saw Grace and Beckett, their backs turned to her. She screamed their names, desperate for them to hear her, to turn around and save her. But they didn't move. They stood frozen as the figure dragged her farther into the darkness. Just as she was about to be swallowed completely-

Emily jolted awake.

Her heart raced as she sat up, her chest heaving. Sweat clung to her forehead, and her hands trembled as she clutched the blankets around her. She looked around the dimly lit room, her eyes darting to the shadows, half-expecting someone to jump out at her. But the room was still, and she was alone.

Emily pressed a hand to her chest, trying to steady her breathing. The dream had felt so real, and the fear lingered, wrapping around her like a suffocating blanket. She needed to do something, anything, to shake off the feeling.

Slipping out of bed, she padded softly to the kitchen, her feet barely making a sound on the cool hardwood floor. The apartment was dark, save for the faint glow of a streetlight filtering through the curtains. She reached for a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water, her hands shaking slightly as she held it to her lips. The cold liquid was a small comfort, grounding her in the present.

She was halfway through her drink when she heard soft footsteps behind her. Startled, she turned quickly, the glass trembling in her hand. Beckett stood in the doorway, his brow furrowed with concern.

"Emily?" he said gently, his voice low so as not to startle her further. "What are you doing up?"

Emily swallowed hard, lowering the glass to the counter, "I...I couldn't sleep," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Beckett stepped closer, his eyes scanning her face. In the dim light, he could see the dark circles under her eyes, the way her hands trembled slightly as she fidgeted with the edge of her pajama top.

"Nightmare?" he asked softly, already knowing the answer.

Emily nodded, not trusting her voice to speak. She felt a lump rising in her throat, and she blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay. Beckett pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and gestured for her to sit. She hesitated for a moment before giving in, sinking into the chair with a sigh.