Fic: In Pieces (Criminal Minds, One-shot)
Title: In Pieces
Author: bluegray37
Rating: T
Characters: Prentiss/Reid
Word Count: 1868
Themes: Angst, Romance
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or Criminal Minds.
Notes: Takes place post-season 6, after Prentiss has returned. Thank you to ginny214 for being my beta.
Summary: Two broken people try to set one thing right in their journey to being whole.
In Pieces
It had been one week.
One week since she’d arrived back home, one week since she’d looked her team in the eyes and revealed that, yes, she was alive. Yes, they’d been lied to. Yes, nothing would ever be the same.
She didn’t know what she’d been expecting. She certainly hadn’t anticipated an immediately joyful reunion, but she’d been kind of stunned by the looks she got on that first day. Her eyes had fallen first on Morgan, then on Garcia, then on Reid, where they had lingered. The man had betrayed every one of his emotions on his face-shock, confusion, hurt, betrayal. And that heartbreakingly baffled look that meant this isn’t logical. Reid used reason to explain away half of his emotions sometimes, but at that moment she could see he had nothing. Not a single thing he could have uttered would have made the situation any better. So he’d pressed his lips together, turned on his heel and left.
Prentiss had scarcely seen Reid since, such a change from before Doyle, when they’d spent almost every night together for four months. At first they were just sleeping together, just keeping the other company on lonely nights. But then they’d started cuddling on the bed after, and then Reid had started looking at her with a tender gaze Emily had never seen on his face before. And looking into his eyes on those nights, she knew that what they had was more than a mutual need for comfort. It was more than two lonely people searching for an escape.
And now, nothing. The few times they’d crossed paths he hadn’t looked at her. And then, three days ago, she’d forced him to stop on his way out of the BAU.
He was in the parking lot and, behind him, she’d called out, “Reid.”
He’d stopped in his tracks, but refused to turn around.
“Reid, please.”
“What do you want?”
What did she want? She wanted a thousand things, too many to name. She settled for, “I want you to look at me.”
“I can’t do that.”
She stepped forward, cautiously touched his hand. “Please look at me.”
“Why?” he snapped, pivoting toward her. His face was so angry and pained that she took half a step back. “So you can see-what? So you can see me…” He pressed his lips together and breathed through his nose, the universal last defense to keep tears from falling. “We buried you. I saw your grave.”
“Reid-“
“No. I can’t do this.”
He’d left her before she’d had a chance to say anything at all. And she’d swallowed all her words with the knowledge that what they’d had was gone. And maybe…maybe she wasn’t getting it back.
So she wasn’t quite sure why she found herself near his apartment building that night. The sticky summer heat had died down just a little that week, and as she walked along the quiet street the wind blew hard enough to make her shiver. She couldn’t help but slow down in front of Reid’s apartment building, scanning the windows, most of which were darkened. Reid’s light was on. He was still awake.
Ever since Doyle had come back into her life, she had felt different. Off-balance. It was like her mind had been whittled away by fear and the space in her head that it had left behind made her feel lighter, insubstantial somehow. Like everything was a dream, and nothing was permanent. Then, even when she’d fled the country and gotten herself to relative safety, she still felt off-kilter. She had begun to think that maybe, if she set just one thing right, she’d feel less like falling. Maybe if she went up to his apartment…maybe he’d talk to her. Or maybe he’d scream at her, maybe he’d tell her he never wanted to see her again. As she weighed the possibilities in her mind, she tilted her face to the sky and sighed.
And that was when she saw the tiny figure on the roof. She wasn’t sure of who it was at first, but then she caught sight of two differently-colored socked feet dangling from the edge, and there was no more doubt in her mind. Her heart dropped a little and she felt herself moving into the building, up the several flights of stairs and all the way to the top, to the small door that led to the roof of the apartment building. Prentiss took a breath and opened the door.
It was a vast, empty space, a concrete desert sparkling as though it were imbued with diamonds. And Reid was on the edge, looking very small. The way he peered over the edge was beginning to make her very nervous.
She crossed the distance between them, and she knew that although he didn’t look up, Reid knew it was her. Somehow he always knew it was her.
“You’re in…kind of a precarious spot right now,” she said cautiously. It still felt strange to hear her own voice. She’d scarcely talked during the long months abroad, having no one to talk to. Reid didn’t respond. The wind blew harder and he swayed on the edge, almost losing his balance. She stuck a hand out reflexively, as if she could do anything if he decided he wanted to go over the edge.
She tried again. “Why don’t you just come back from the-“
“I’m not going to jump,” he said.
In the back of her mind she’d known that, but it was still a relief to hear him say it. “Would you just get down?” she implored.
Reid shook his head, less stubbornly than absentmindedly, and stared out over the myriad lights and colors flashing against the dark sky.
Prentiss sighed, toed off her heels, and carefully sat next to him, allowing her legs to hang just like his. The view was beautiful, in a gritty way. The city bustled below her and she felt like a tiny particle floating along in the shuffle. It was hard to believe, faced with all her current emotions, that she was, after all, very insignificant when it came down to the city, to the continent, to the universe. Thinking about all of it gave her a touch of vertigo, and she turned her eyes away.
Next to her, Reid was turning something in his hands. His fingers worked so fast that it took Prentiss a moment to work out what it was.
“Hey,” she said. “My star puzzle.”
Reid’s eyes focused, like he’d just now realized that he was scrambling it and solving it over and over again. “Oh, yeah,” he said. “I took it-from your desk. They were throwing everything out, and I just…” His voice faltered and he gave a soft one-syllable laugh. “I don’t know what I was doing, really.”
“It always amazed me how fast you could solve that thing.”
“It’s really just math, like everything else,” he said dismissively. “Although…” He began yet again to put the jumbled pieces back together. “Sometimes, when I do this long enough…I get to a point where I can do it without-without thinking. Without relying on the equations in my head to do it for me. I start to do it by feeling instead. It’s a kind of funny place between thinking and just…just doing.”
He fit the last piece in place and, at last, he looked at her. “Am I making any sense?”
She held his gaze, even though it was so intense it hurt her a little. He was searching her face for something, but she couldn’t tell what. “I think so,” she told him. “It’s like they tell us at work. Go with your instinct. Trust your gut.”
“No, but it’s more,” Reid insisted, turning away and disassembling the pieces again. “It’s more than that. They tell us to trust our instinct, but I-I guess I never really do. Not completely. I trust facts first, because they’re not ambiguous. Facts can’t lie to you, but emotions and people-they can. But this, it’s different. It’s like, when something’s broken, you fix it. You just do. You don’t think about it, you just do what you can. It gets better and better and before you know it…”
He pressed the completed puzzle into her hands. “Before you know it, you’ve put it back together again.”
She looked at the small star in her palm and dislodged a piece. Her fingers fumbled around the sharply cut wood. She turned her gaze from the incomplete puzzle to the man looking into her eyes.
Reid swallowed. “What I’m trying to say is that…pretty soon, the puzzle-it’ll all make sense. You just have to keep at it and one day…one day, you won’t have to question where the pieces fit. You’ll just know.”
She looked away, sliding the missing piece into place to distract herself from the prickling sensation at the corners of her eyes. “That’s, um…” She cleared her throat. “That’s an elaborate metaphor, Doctor Reid.”
“I’m trying to be less literal. I know I’m not very good at being…” He wrung his hands. “…conversational.”
She laughed softly. “I missed that about you.”
Just as she was concentrating on swallowing the lump in her throat, she felt his hand come to rest timidly on her own. She grasped it fiercely, blindly, for at that moment her vision was obscured by tears. Another hand brushed against her face, hesitantly at first, giving her time to shy away from the touch if she wanted to. She didn’t move.
“I missed you,” he said, and she heard his voice crack.
They embraced. It was one of the first moments of physical contact she’d had since she left, and one of the first where the person touching her didn’t want to hurt her. It felt a little alien but she closed her eyes to his gentle touch, his long fingers simultaneously sensitive to everything she’d been through and desperate to hold her. With a hand on the back of her head, he pulled her close, and she leaned into his neck and allowed herself to breathe. They braced their feet against the side of the building to keep from falling. This was what it was like to be normal, she reminded herself. This was one step in the direction of putting the pieces together, of becoming whole.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and against her skin, his hands shook a little.
Of all the things she wanted to say to him, the only thing she could clearly vocalize was, “Me too.” She hoped that the weight in her voice would let him know that one day, there would be many more words to come.
Author: bluegray37
Rating: T
Characters: Prentiss/Reid
Word Count: 1868
Themes: Angst, Romance
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or Criminal Minds.
Notes: Takes place post-season 6, after Prentiss has returned. Thank you to ginny214 for being my beta.
Summary: Two broken people try to set one thing right in their journey to being whole.
In Pieces
It had been one week.
One week since she’d arrived back home, one week since she’d looked her team in the eyes and revealed that, yes, she was alive. Yes, they’d been lied to. Yes, nothing would ever be the same.
She didn’t know what she’d been expecting. She certainly hadn’t anticipated an immediately joyful reunion, but she’d been kind of stunned by the looks she got on that first day. Her eyes had fallen first on Morgan, then on Garcia, then on Reid, where they had lingered. The man had betrayed every one of his emotions on his face-shock, confusion, hurt, betrayal. And that heartbreakingly baffled look that meant this isn’t logical. Reid used reason to explain away half of his emotions sometimes, but at that moment she could see he had nothing. Not a single thing he could have uttered would have made the situation any better. So he’d pressed his lips together, turned on his heel and left.
Prentiss had scarcely seen Reid since, such a change from before Doyle, when they’d spent almost every night together for four months. At first they were just sleeping together, just keeping the other company on lonely nights. But then they’d started cuddling on the bed after, and then Reid had started looking at her with a tender gaze Emily had never seen on his face before. And looking into his eyes on those nights, she knew that what they had was more than a mutual need for comfort. It was more than two lonely people searching for an escape.
And now, nothing. The few times they’d crossed paths he hadn’t looked at her. And then, three days ago, she’d forced him to stop on his way out of the BAU.
He was in the parking lot and, behind him, she’d called out, “Reid.”
He’d stopped in his tracks, but refused to turn around.
“Reid, please.”
“What do you want?”
What did she want? She wanted a thousand things, too many to name. She settled for, “I want you to look at me.”
“I can’t do that.”
She stepped forward, cautiously touched his hand. “Please look at me.”
“Why?” he snapped, pivoting toward her. His face was so angry and pained that she took half a step back. “So you can see-what? So you can see me…” He pressed his lips together and breathed through his nose, the universal last defense to keep tears from falling. “We buried you. I saw your grave.”
“Reid-“
“No. I can’t do this.”
He’d left her before she’d had a chance to say anything at all. And she’d swallowed all her words with the knowledge that what they’d had was gone. And maybe…maybe she wasn’t getting it back.
So she wasn’t quite sure why she found herself near his apartment building that night. The sticky summer heat had died down just a little that week, and as she walked along the quiet street the wind blew hard enough to make her shiver. She couldn’t help but slow down in front of Reid’s apartment building, scanning the windows, most of which were darkened. Reid’s light was on. He was still awake.
Ever since Doyle had come back into her life, she had felt different. Off-balance. It was like her mind had been whittled away by fear and the space in her head that it had left behind made her feel lighter, insubstantial somehow. Like everything was a dream, and nothing was permanent. Then, even when she’d fled the country and gotten herself to relative safety, she still felt off-kilter. She had begun to think that maybe, if she set just one thing right, she’d feel less like falling. Maybe if she went up to his apartment…maybe he’d talk to her. Or maybe he’d scream at her, maybe he’d tell her he never wanted to see her again. As she weighed the possibilities in her mind, she tilted her face to the sky and sighed.
And that was when she saw the tiny figure on the roof. She wasn’t sure of who it was at first, but then she caught sight of two differently-colored socked feet dangling from the edge, and there was no more doubt in her mind. Her heart dropped a little and she felt herself moving into the building, up the several flights of stairs and all the way to the top, to the small door that led to the roof of the apartment building. Prentiss took a breath and opened the door.
It was a vast, empty space, a concrete desert sparkling as though it were imbued with diamonds. And Reid was on the edge, looking very small. The way he peered over the edge was beginning to make her very nervous.
She crossed the distance between them, and she knew that although he didn’t look up, Reid knew it was her. Somehow he always knew it was her.
“You’re in…kind of a precarious spot right now,” she said cautiously. It still felt strange to hear her own voice. She’d scarcely talked during the long months abroad, having no one to talk to. Reid didn’t respond. The wind blew harder and he swayed on the edge, almost losing his balance. She stuck a hand out reflexively, as if she could do anything if he decided he wanted to go over the edge.
She tried again. “Why don’t you just come back from the-“
“I’m not going to jump,” he said.
In the back of her mind she’d known that, but it was still a relief to hear him say it. “Would you just get down?” she implored.
Reid shook his head, less stubbornly than absentmindedly, and stared out over the myriad lights and colors flashing against the dark sky.
Prentiss sighed, toed off her heels, and carefully sat next to him, allowing her legs to hang just like his. The view was beautiful, in a gritty way. The city bustled below her and she felt like a tiny particle floating along in the shuffle. It was hard to believe, faced with all her current emotions, that she was, after all, very insignificant when it came down to the city, to the continent, to the universe. Thinking about all of it gave her a touch of vertigo, and she turned her eyes away.
Next to her, Reid was turning something in his hands. His fingers worked so fast that it took Prentiss a moment to work out what it was.
“Hey,” she said. “My star puzzle.”
Reid’s eyes focused, like he’d just now realized that he was scrambling it and solving it over and over again. “Oh, yeah,” he said. “I took it-from your desk. They were throwing everything out, and I just…” His voice faltered and he gave a soft one-syllable laugh. “I don’t know what I was doing, really.”
“It always amazed me how fast you could solve that thing.”
“It’s really just math, like everything else,” he said dismissively. “Although…” He began yet again to put the jumbled pieces back together. “Sometimes, when I do this long enough…I get to a point where I can do it without-without thinking. Without relying on the equations in my head to do it for me. I start to do it by feeling instead. It’s a kind of funny place between thinking and just…just doing.”
He fit the last piece in place and, at last, he looked at her. “Am I making any sense?”
She held his gaze, even though it was so intense it hurt her a little. He was searching her face for something, but she couldn’t tell what. “I think so,” she told him. “It’s like they tell us at work. Go with your instinct. Trust your gut.”
“No, but it’s more,” Reid insisted, turning away and disassembling the pieces again. “It’s more than that. They tell us to trust our instinct, but I-I guess I never really do. Not completely. I trust facts first, because they’re not ambiguous. Facts can’t lie to you, but emotions and people-they can. But this, it’s different. It’s like, when something’s broken, you fix it. You just do. You don’t think about it, you just do what you can. It gets better and better and before you know it…”
He pressed the completed puzzle into her hands. “Before you know it, you’ve put it back together again.”
She looked at the small star in her palm and dislodged a piece. Her fingers fumbled around the sharply cut wood. She turned her gaze from the incomplete puzzle to the man looking into her eyes.
Reid swallowed. “What I’m trying to say is that…pretty soon, the puzzle-it’ll all make sense. You just have to keep at it and one day…one day, you won’t have to question where the pieces fit. You’ll just know.”
She looked away, sliding the missing piece into place to distract herself from the prickling sensation at the corners of her eyes. “That’s, um…” She cleared her throat. “That’s an elaborate metaphor, Doctor Reid.”
“I’m trying to be less literal. I know I’m not very good at being…” He wrung his hands. “…conversational.”
She laughed softly. “I missed that about you.”
Just as she was concentrating on swallowing the lump in her throat, she felt his hand come to rest timidly on her own. She grasped it fiercely, blindly, for at that moment her vision was obscured by tears. Another hand brushed against her face, hesitantly at first, giving her time to shy away from the touch if she wanted to. She didn’t move.
“I missed you,” he said, and she heard his voice crack.
They embraced. It was one of the first moments of physical contact she’d had since she left, and one of the first where the person touching her didn’t want to hurt her. It felt a little alien but she closed her eyes to his gentle touch, his long fingers simultaneously sensitive to everything she’d been through and desperate to hold her. With a hand on the back of her head, he pulled her close, and she leaned into his neck and allowed herself to breathe. They braced their feet against the side of the building to keep from falling. This was what it was like to be normal, she reminded herself. This was one step in the direction of putting the pieces together, of becoming whole.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and against her skin, his hands shook a little.
Of all the things she wanted to say to him, the only thing she could clearly vocalize was, “Me too.” She hoped that the weight in her voice would let him know that one day, there would be many more words to come.