Female Unwanted Guest (CM fanfic)

[Littlegaymess]

So, this is an Emily Prentiss sickfic. I might finish it if it's well received. (please don't rip me apart) i am bad at titles 😕

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Emily sniffled wetly and dragged her sleeve over her nose, yellow mucus collecting on the fabric. She knew that it was disgusting, but they had a case to work and she would not be forced to sit out for some dumb cold. The brunette tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and gave another heavy sniffle, hoping that the cold water she’d splashed on her face had made her complexion look more normal. 

 

The elevator dinged and she took a deep, congested breath before stepping off to meet her fate. The moment she walked into the bullpen she knew that she’d made a mistake by not chugging more cold medicine. The stares of her coworkers nearly made her buckle on the spot and reach for one of her friends to comfort her. 

 

JJ would wrap her up in a blanket and pump her full of medicine, make more tea than the woman could ever drink, feed her and wouldn't leave her side unless she was ordered out. The blonde would stroke her hair and they’d watch whatever movie Emily wanted, which tended to be something Disney when she wasn’t feeling well. Movies from her childhood always made her feel better when she was sick.

 

Garcia would pamper her with soup and movies and wouldn’t be angry when Emily inevitably searched for cuddles. She would never admit it while she felt even marginally okay, but when it came down to it the brunette was a sucker for physical affection while she was sick. 

 

Spencer would give her statistics and eventually, when she couldn’t take sitting up anymore, he would help her into bed and recite whatever book she wanted to hear from memory. He may not have been great around germs, but when it came to his friends he was willing to force it aside until they felt better. 

 

Morgan would be awkward about it and do everything he could to help while being subtle. If she coughed too hard or threw up he would forcibly move her back to the hotel or home. If he took her to a hotel, he’d stay and pretend not to care while he casually asked her questions about her health. If he took her home he would make soup, convince her to eat and leave with the promise that he would call to check in on her in a few hours. He tried to act like he didn’t care, but he was a softy at heart. 

 

Rossi would glare at her for hours, studying her every movement and providing her with medicine and tissues as needed. Each thing would be given with a sharp disapproving look, but he wouldn’t deny her medical care just because she was being stubborn. She’d always end up back in bed and when he was there he would sit by her side. When she woke up screaming from a nightmare, he would sing an Italian song and hold her hand until she fell asleep again. 

 

Hotch’s tactics were similar to Rossi’s, except he was a father. Like JJ, he got all overprotective and was even willing to provide comfort in the form of physical affection if she wanted it. He loved his team, they were his family and although he was always professional in public, when any of them were hurt or sick he slipped into the role of a parent. 

 

Instead of kindness and instant coddling, Emily was met with her mother sitting at her desk, going through the doors. It wasn’t that the brunette particularly wanted to be coddled, but it would be nice not to instantly be confronted with one of her least favorite people. 

 

Elizabeth looked up and wrinkled her nose in obvious disgust. Emily lifted her wrist to her nose, wincing at the audible squish that came when she rubbed it. There was snot on her hand now, but she was out of options. Her mother sneered at her appearance and crossed her arms over her chest in that ever condescending way. 

 

“Hello Emily. Are you feeling under the weather?” The elder Prentiss asked, watching as her daughter slipped her purse off of her shoulder and shrugged off the wet coat that she had managed to grab before running out of the house. Unfortunately, said coat did nothing to keep her clothes from getting soaked. 

 

“I’b fide mbob.” She insisted, gritting her teeth as her mother gave her a somehow even more hateful look. Emily had no idea how she had gotten so congested, but her nasal passages were incredibly swollen and she figured that no amount of blowing would let her breathe. 

 

“Excuse me? I can’t understand what you’re saying under all of that phlegm.” Elizabeth joked, pure hate settling in her expression. The young woman aimed a rattling, lung destroying cough into her elbow, gagging at the mucus that she felt fill her mouth. With nothing else to do, she swallowed it, struggling to keep herself from vomiting when she felt the slimy crap running down her throat. 

 

“Bother, leabe. I’b dot id the bood.” Emily wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand up and her mother was occupying her chair. The Ambassador scoffed and rolled her eyes, standing to better face her child. 

 

“Well, maybe if you weren’t so weak you would be fine Emily Elizabeth Prentiss. Stop complaining.” The brunette cringed at the way her mother said her name, hating that she was still so afraid of her. Unfortunately, years of abuse would do that to a person. Emily turned glassy eyes on the floor and put her arms behind her back in a position that she hoped made her look unthreatening. 

 

“I’b sorry bother.” Elizabeth clucked her tongue and studied the shivering woman in front of her, studying every flaw in her child’s body. 

 

“Manners Emily. Prentiss women use manners. Stand up straight, stop wiping your nose, you’re an adult, not a sniveling toddler.” The profiler obeyed automatically, straightening and moving her hand away from her drippy nose. The sight of the yellowish mucus pooling at the edge of her daughter's nostrils only made her mother angrier. 

 

“Seriously? You look disgusting. Have you put on weight? You know, men don’t like women with a-” 

“Excuse me, I’m SSA Dr. Reid, would you like to get a cup of coffee while I have a conversation with Emily?” Reid gave her a stony look, none of the compassion he projected into his words reflected on his face. Ambassador Prentiss rolled her eyes hard, not even bothering to acknowledge Spencer’s existence. 

 

“For the love of god Emily, do you have any dignity? Showing up to your place of work like this? You look like a corpse, a corpse who doesn’t seem to have a care in the world about keeping up appearances.” Emily felt tears fill her eyes and looked past her mother, pressing her wrist back to her nose as she sniffled again which caused her to double over in a particularly harsh fit of coughs. 

 

Spencer grabbed her shoulders to keep her from falling over and she forced herself back up when she heard her mother muttering under her breath about an ungrateful daughter. Emily bit down on her finger in a desperate attempt to stop the fit and nearly sobbed in relief when it worked. 

 

“Emily, that sounded bad, do you need to sit down?” The genius asked, rubbing her arm as she straightened. She gave him a heated glare, but hoped that he could see just how sorry she was for the look. 

 

“I’b fide, Reid. Go back to work.” She ordered, instantly missing his hands when she found herself without any sort of support. A sudden tickling in her sinuses had her gasping and spinning away from her mother.

 

"TchsShew! TchShew! TchsSHew! Hih'TchShew! Hih'TchsShew! Hehschhewww!!" She paused to gasp and crashed forward into her elbow again, nose streaming snot.

 

“Hih'TchShew! Hih'TchsShew!”

 

 The last sneeze made her stumble forward and her mother stepped back. She grabbed her desk for support, and wiped her nose on her sleeve, pretending not to see the way tendrils of snot ran from her nose to her sleeve when she pulled away. 

 

“You’re…oozing dear. Anyway, that’s not why I’m here. Senator Hearne has taken a liking to you. You have a date with him Friday at seven. He expects a well dressed, sophisticated young woman. Not whatever it is I’m looking at right now.” Elizabeth said, drawing the conversation back to her. 

 

“Mbom, Hearde is id his sixties. I’b dot goig out with hib I dod’t care what it does to your precious reputatiod. Please go, visitors ared’t allowed ad I have to work.” She raised a shaky hand and pointed to the exit, wishing that her mother would just leave her be. The urge to sink into her cozy bed and sleep for five days was getting more and more prominent. 

 

“Are you kidding me? I have helped you advance your career for years and all you can do is tell me to leave. You are a disrespectful brat and I should’ve gotten rid of you when I had the chance. Your father left because of you. You ruined my marriage and you don’t even have the decency to be polite. You…” Elizabeth continued, but the younger Prentiss had zoned out, tears rolling down her feverish cheeks. She was sure that her mother was admonishing her for crying, but there was something about fevers that just made her emotional. 

 

“Ambassador Prentiss, as I believe your daughter stated visitors aren’t allowed at this time. Please step out or I will be forced to call security.” Thank god for Hotch. Emily couldn’t see through the tears and had to keep her wrist pressed firmly to her nose to keep from running down her face.

 

“Are you threatening me?” 

 

“Bother, please go…” She whispered, her voice choked off and miserable. The brunette heard Elizabeth turn on her heel, loudly talking to herself about lawyers as her heels clicked to the elevator. The second she was gone, Emily turned from her team and sat at her desk, trying to brush away the emotions that they had all seen spill over. 

 

“Emily?” A soft voice asked, followed by a warm hand settling on her shoulder. “Come lay down sweetheart.” Garcia prompted, slipping her hand to the nape of the profiler's neck. She grimaced at the heat radiating from her friend and cast a worried glance over at her boss. She felt Emily shudder under her touch and realized that her poor sick girl was struggling not to cry.

 

“I’b fide Ped. I’be got paperwork.” She croaked, hunching over in an attempt to shield herself from the prying eyes of her friends. One of them set a box of tissues on her desk, and she glanced up to see a worried looking Rossi, eyes shining with sympathy.

 

“Guys, I’b ogay. Mby bother is just a bit…difficult.” She grabbed a tissue and pressed it over her chapped nose, wiping away the seemingly never ending trail of snot. She wanted to blow her nose and try to clear everything out of her sinuses, but she was being watched by everyone. 

 

“Honey, that’s not difficult that’s—“

 

“I doe!” Emily snapped, slamming her hands down on her desk, making her team collectively flinch. “Dow, I habe work ad so do all of you!” They all looked to Hotch, hoping that he would order her home. He gestured for all of them to return to their desks, but JJ stood hesitantly by, resisting the urge to take care of the sick woman. 

 

“Let me check your temperature?” She asked gently, already knowing the answer. The brunette stiffened and turned back, a slight desperation blooming in her eyes. She pressed her wrist to her nose and sniffled, trying not to wince when it sent pain shooting through her sinuses. 

 

“I’b fide JJ. S’just a cold.” JJ gave a soft smile and shook her head. 

 

“It’s not going to stay that way if you don’t take care of it.” The blonde reached forward and squeezed her shoulder, trying to provide some comfort. She could feel the woman burning under her thick blazar and a sympathetic sound escaped her lips. 

 

“Please JJ…” The small part of her that wanted to be alone was being screamed at by the much larger part who wanted someone to stroke her hair and cuddle with her. The blonde sighed softly and saw the sharp reserve in her friend’s eyes. Emily wasn’t going anywhere. JJ bowed her head and nodded her defeat. No one thought that the brunette would last long, but no one dared fight her on it either.

[uwus and love]

yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes (just imagine that going on for like 100 more pages) 

 

and that reminds me that I have a cm fanfiction to write and inspiration to find, so if you'll excuse me

[Fidian]

Love this!!!

[Mems]

Oh, I somehow missed this when it was first posted! Loving Emily and love the just right description of mess here!

[OneSaltySir]

Aw yea! Good CM content is rare! And even if Spencer’s my favourite to torture, it's almost refreshing to see somebody else draw the short stick. Good work!

[SneezingGenius]

this is soooooooooo good!!!! please continue!!!! 🥹😆

[Littlegaymess]

pt. 2/?

A/N: Thanks so much for all of the support! I have decided to continue this and am currently cursing myself for making this a casefic. (and I figured out how to un-bold it)

---

Emily had her wrist permanently pressed to her nose, every sniffle sending a new wave of pain through her head. She was trying hard not to sneeze, knowing that if she did she would probably start to cry. What had started as a stupid cold seemed to be turning into the sinus infection of the century. 

 

The damn tickle came back and she crushed her chapped nose in her hand, her body pitching forward as she struggled to silence the flurry of sneezes. "Icxxh! IchxxH! Ixxxh! IchxxH! IchxxH! Irxxh! IchxxH! Itxxxh! Itxxxh!" 

 

The tears that she had so desperately tried to hold back were dripping down her cheeks but the tickle wasn’t gone. She took a deep breath and held her nose tighter with another onslaught of painfully stifled sneezes. "IchxxH! ItxChxxh! Itxxxh! Itcxxh! Itxxxh! Itxxxh!"

 

“That sounds painful.” Rossi commented looking up from where he was working with JJ. He watched as the woman he saw as his daughter wiped away a few tears that had slipped from her red rimmed eyes and gave him a pathetic glare. 

 

“I’b fide.” She croaked, her words followed by a liquid sniffle that seemed to do nothing for her congestion. He sighed and shook his head. Spencer had looked up from his book, studying her like she was a statistic. 

 

JJ was frustrated. She was about to call attention to the brunette's current bad decisions when Garcia burst from her office, a pile of files in her arms. Emily looked up and let out a congested sigh which turned into a bubbling cough. 

 

“Come on guys! Let's go!” Penelope called, frowning when she saw Emily. The poor thing looked worse. 

 

–

 

“So, this is strange. He’s taking the middle finger from each of his victims and sewing it onto the next one. The weirdest thing is that the first victim had a finger from someone who was clearly long dead. He stole a finger from somewhere to keep up his signature.” All of the remaining color in Emily’s drained. She recognized the signature. She would never forget it. But that wasn’t possible, he was locked up in a high security Belgian prison on death row.

 

“Prentiss?” Hotch asked, noticing the expression on her face. She looked almost terrified. The woman took a deep, gurgling breath and turned her fear filled eyes on him, her mouth slightly agape. 

 

“Ub…I kdow the sigdature. He…id doesd’t bake sedse.” She replied, her voice so congested that they could barely understand her. Their boss sighed quietly and pushed a box of tissues toward her with a pointed look. When she just glared at him he sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. 

 

“I can’t understand you.” The brunette rolled her eyes and blew her nose quietly, her cheeks hot with embarrassment. The gentle blow did very little, but it was clear that she wouldn’t do any more than that. 

 

“His nabe is Alvero DeLuca. H-he uh…he Itcxxh! Itxxxh! Itxxxh…” The stifled sneezes aimed into her elbow had her bent over slightly. They seemed to take an incredible amount of energy from the already exhausted woman. 

 

“I chased hib for years. Fidally caught hib id Bulgaria fifteed years ago.” Blowing her nose had clearly done absolutely nothing. She coughed into her shoulder and sniffled thickly, flicking her gaze from profiler to profiler. 

 

“When was he supposed to be released?” Morgan asked, leaning forward with his hands clasped on the table. He was staring at her with intense brown eyes that threatened to bore into her soul. 

 

“He wasn’t. DeLuca was executed two weeks ago in prison.” Garcia answered, her face a mask of confusion. The brunette nodded slightly and swiped a fist under her running nose, trying to look as distinguished as possible. 

 

“Alright, wheels up in ten. Prentiss, hang back.” Hotch ordered, sending the team scurrying out like frightened animals. No one wanted to be in that room with the man while he chewed out their coworker.

 

The brunette let out a bubbly sigh, which turned into an aggressive cough that brought up a disgusting glob of mucus. She grabbed a tissue and spat it out, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. 

 

“What?” She snapped, looking up at Hotch with a blank expression. He crossed his arms over her chest, matching her expression and posture. All Emily had wanted to do was sleep, but now she had more drive than ever. She needed to work this case. It was more important than how she felt, it was more important than anything. 

 

“Prentiss, you need to go home. This is not a negotiation.” He ordered, raising an eyebrow as she scoffed. The sound was more of a gurgle, but he understood what she was going for. 

 

“Id is a degotiatiod. Because you cad’t tage this away frob mbe. This should dot be habbedig! I s-sp-IchxxH! ItxChxxh! Hih'TchsShxxh,” She sniffled wetly and rubbed her nose before continuing her explanation. 

 

“I chased hib for years! Plus, I’b an adult Hodtch. I cad handle a little cold. You bake mbe stay back, I get od a plade ad follow you.” She said stubbornly, standing taller so as to appear more confident than she was. Really she felt like she may fall over. The congestion in her sinuses seemed to have settled into the rest of her body, making moving feel like swimming in molasses. 

 

“Emily,” 

 

“Dod’t Ebily mbe. I’b goig. Try to stop mbe.” She gave him a baleful glare, which relaxed when she saw his demeanor shift. She’d won. She figured that she would, afterall she knew more about this case than anyone else could. Even Garcia couldn’t dig up the intimate conversations she’d had where she’d learned terrible things about how Deluca had swayed people to his will.

 

Hotch dropped his arms stiffly to his sides and gestured to the door, signaling that she could leave. 

 

“You will not be allowed in the field. The second I think you can’t work anymore, you will go to the hotel even if you need to be dragged there.” He said after her, wishing that he knew how better to keep her safe. He loved his team like a family and hated how little they seemed to care for their own health and safety. 

 

He watched as the brunette stumbled out of the round table room, knowing full well that he was a hypocrite. The man couldn’t think of a way that this would end well and the pit of anxiety in his stomach became a little deeper. This was a horrible idea.

[ID2006]

So excited you continued this. Not going to lie, doing a CM case fic can be exhausting but I am very grateful for the content.

[Purplelily]

Oh poor Emily! She’s really going through it. I really like your descriptions! Emily is just so deliciously miserable, and I can’t wait to see what’s next! Maybe she’ll get a little worse and then everyone will have to take care of her 😏

[Littlegaymess]

On 2/17/2023 at 2:22 AM, Purplelily said:

Oh poor Emily! She’s really going through it. I really like your descriptions! Emily is just so deliciously miserable, and I can’t wait to see what’s next! Maybe she’ll get a little worse and then everyone will have to take care of her 😏

perhaps 😏

[Littlegaymess]

pt. 3/? 

A/N: there is not much sneezing in this part its mostly plot, but there's a good chunk of caretaking and general misery. Thanks for all of the support, I hope you enjoy this!

---

Emily sunk into her seat on the jet, trying not to reveal how relieved she was to be sitting down. The brunette could feel eyes on her but kept a stoic visage. They knew she was sick, there was really no denying that fact but she sure as hell could downplay her symptoms. If she was convincing enough maybe it would get her into the field. 

Garcia, who had stubbornly insisted that she was coming along saying quote: “if my poor raven beauty is going like that I am not staying here!” came and sat across from her, dutifully pulling out her laptop and various files. Along with case-related items she produced two cough drops which were shoved in Emily’s direction without a word. 

 

The ill profiler was surprised, this wasn’t Penelope's usual method of caretaking. Perhaps she realized that Emily would accept no more than the bare minimum. The brunette eyed the medicated drops, knowing that the eucalyptus would help open up her chest. Of course, that would make her cough. 

 

She resisted, pretending not to notice the offering, and turned to look out the window while the rest of the team boarded. They were talking quietly, groaning about the long flight. Why did this killer have to be in Alaska? Why couldn’t they go to Florida with the hot sun and ocean breeze which would definitely clear her congestion. Instead, they were going to one of the coldest places in the US. 

 

JJ let out a loud sigh and plopped into the seat beside her, making a show out of sitting down. She turned and gave Emily a rather smug smile, clearly pleased with her actions. No matter how she tried though, she couldn't wipe the concern from her eyes. 

 

“Bust you?” Emily grumbled, rubbing her nose with a clenched fist. Garcia passed over a small pack of tissues, looking just as worried as her friend. The brunette grabbed the tissues and blew her nose quietly, trying to hide in the stupid not warm enough blazar. 

 

“I must! My goal in life is to annoy you.” JJ deadpanned, pulling out her phone. Everyone was tired, there weren’t very many leads on the case, so there just wasn’t much of them to do until they landed. Eventually, they’d all talk about it, but for now, they got a few hours to relax. 

 

“IchxxH! ItxChxxh! Hih'TchsShxxh! Hih'TchsShew!”

 

Emily snuffled and rubbed her nose on her sleeve, her eyes watery. JJ squeezed her shoulder, offering silent support. She loved her friend so much and seeing her so sick was hurting her. All she wanted to do was wrap Emily up in a hug and hold her until she felt better. 

 

“Get some sleep, Em. We’ll wake you if something comes up.” Garcia said gently, staring at her computer. The brunette wanted to fight, she really did, but the offer of sleep was just too sweet to ignore. She settled further into her seat and found her head falling against JJ’s shoulder. Her eyes slipped closed and she fell into a fever-addled sleep. 

 

–

 

Emily woke with a start, her choked-off gasp drawing attention from the knitting woman sitting in front of her. Garcia raised an eyebrow and reached across the table between them to take one of the brunette’s trembling, clammy hands. 

 

She was breathing quickly, trying to regain her composure as she tried to distinguish fiction from reality. Her glassy eyes darted around the jet, searching for something to indicate that this wasn’t real. Her hand in Penelope’s certainly felt real, but that didn’t mean much considering her nightmares. 

 

“Hey, Em? You with me?” Garcia murmured, her voice honey-sweet and full of kindness. Emily jerked at the sound, tightening her grip on the woman's fingers. She locked onto the soft blue eyes and a wave of calm washed over her. Sometimes the tech analyst could be panicky, but she was fantastic at keeping the peace. 

 

“Sorry.” The brunette rasped, retracting her hand in embarrassment. She grabbed her case fine and shifted in her seat in an attempt to become a part of the current discussion. The team was talking in hushed tones at the other end of the jet, apparently having left Garcia as some sort of babysitter. 

 

She scowled and stood up, walking over to the rest of the group to join the conversation. She sat on the edge of the couch, a few feet away from a very concerned-looking Spencer. 

 

“Prentiss,” Hotch said sternly, raising an eyebrow at her. The brunette replied with a liquid sniffle and opened the file, hunching over to bury her face in the text. 

 

“So, our Unsub is a copycat, so we don’t have much to go on. Prentiss, how did you find the original killer?” Rossi asked, turning the attention back to the matter at hand. 

 

“Well…I was bait. His tybe, I’b his tybe. We’d dever bet face-to-face, so it was pretty easy to trick hib. He wedt for wobed ruddig dorbal erredds. Groceries, store ruds, that sord of thig. He’d follow theb back to their cars ad give sobe spiel about lockig his dog id his car.” She replied, her throat aching as each word scraped across it. 

 

JJ offered her a tissue which she took with some hesitation and used it to blow her nose as quietly as she could. They were all looking at her, she really didn’t want to make a scene. 

 

“You were bait??” Morgan demanded, his brows furrowing in anger. He did not like the idea of someone using his partner to bait a dangerous serial killer. They’d had their issues in the past, but had grown close. The brunette glanced around the group, noticing that everyone wore a similar expression. 

 

“This isn’t about me. This is about eight dead women.” She rubbed her nose with her sleeve, hoping that they would just leave the whole thing alone. The silence was only broken by yet another liquid sniffle from the sick woman. 

 

“Okay, so you were bait. Clearly, that's not going to work here.” They continued to talk, but Emily zoned out. She was tired, it was getting hard to keep her eyes open. She’d already been asleep for probably hours, but she was tired again. Why did her body hate her so?

 

JJ reached over the edge of the couch and squeezed her knee, offering silent comfort while also waking up the 

 

“So, I’m thinking it's a woman. Em, can you remember anyone asking to see DeLuca? Anyone who seemed more interested in him than others?” Emily shook her head slightly, a wave of dizziness crashing over her. 

 

“I did’dt ub…I wasnd allowed od his case after ub…deedless to say, doe, I dod’t kdow.” She replied, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. She sniffled hard, once again trying to downplay the situation. She had been in a hard place and absolutely refused to go any further. 

 

“Prentiss, what happened?” Rossi asked, giving her that hard stare that always cracked even the toughest criminals. 

 

“It’ds dot perdidedt. Whed we ladd I’ll recoddect with mby old codtacds ad see if they have ady bore idforbatiod.” She was getting frustrated and worried that someone would go digging. Her time with DeLuca hadn’t been pleasant. It’d taken her team a day to find her and when they got there she already had a concussion, three broken ribs, and several dozen bruises painted across her body. 

 

Before any more questions could be asked the fasten seatbelt sign popped up and Emily practically leaped to her feet and returned to her seat by Penelope.

 

Turbulence. Of course there would be turbulence, because why wouldn’t there be? It wasn't like the pain in her head was already bad enough. 

 

The brunette grit her teeth and pressed the first two fingers on each hand to her sinuses, hoping that it would relieve some of the intense pain. Rather than helping, it filled her nose with an unpleasant tingling that she was fighting off desperately. 

 

The first sneeze was silent but it hurt more than she ever could have imagined. Her breath continued to hitch and while she tried to keep the rest of her sneezes quiet, she couldn't. 

 

“ItxChxxh! Hih'TchsShxxh! TchsSHew! Hih'TchsShew! Hehschhewww!!”

 

Tears pricked her eyes as she hid her face in her sleeve, not daring to move from her hiding spot. She knew if she did the others would be greeted by the sight of tendrils hanging from her nose to the fabric of her shirt sleeve. 

 

“Aw, sugar that sounded painful. Here,” Garcia offered her a small packet of tissues which she took without question. The brunette managed to get it open one-handed and the tech analyst respectfully looked away while she cleaned herself up. 

 

“D-do you have painkillers?” She whispered, not wanting the others to hear her desperate plea. The blonde gave a sympathetic smile and produced a small bottle of Advil from her seemingly never-ending purse. After that she handed over a small bottle of water which Emily practically chugged, hoping it would help with the pain in her throat. 

 

“Do you want some tea?” She did. She really, really did. But no, it wasn’t like she could accept anything else. She had already asked for too much, if she kept it up they were going to confine her to the hotel and her goal was to convince them that she was okay enough to work in the field. 

 

“No. Thanks, Pen. I’m fine.” Garcia raised an eyebrow, utterly baffled that the profiler was being so stubborn. Why couldn’t she just let her help? 

 

“You’re shivering.” She pointed out, hoping that she could nag her friend into submission. It typically worked on her hunk of chocolate thunder. She was talking quietly enough that the others wouldn't hear, especially because most of them had settled in for a nap. A fifteen-hour flight was something no one wanted and everyone intended to get as much sleep as they could. This one was going to be rough. 

 

“I just…” Emily trailed off, knowing that there was no way to quell her trembling. Her chills were making her body ache even more. Garcia stood, reached into the overhead bin, and pulled out a soft blanket that she had made with her expert knitting skills. 

 

She handed it to her shivering friend who only hesitated for a moment before curling up in the soft, warm blanket. Emily sniffled, looking mildly pathetic with her chapped red nose and upper lip, and pale face.

 

“I’b sorry. I’b just…I just feel bad. I’b tryig…” She whispered, her voice raw and painful. Penelope nodded her understanding, well aware that the brunette was doing the best that she could. The others may be content to let her run herself into the ground, but she would not let her friend suffer in silence. Well, maybe she was being a bit harsh, but still. 

 

“I know sweetness. Blow your nose and try to get some sleep, okay?” Emily ignored the request to blow her nose and tucked her leg to her chest, curling up in a comfortable little ball. The blanket hadn’t entirely warmed her up, but the shivering was less. Enough that she didn’t feel like her bones were rattling. 

 

Her nose was dripping onto the blanket, but she hoped that Penelope wouldn't mind. She sniffled hard, rubbing her face against the soft wool. She didn’t often think about how lucky she was not to have allergies, but this was one of those times. 

 

“Wake mbe before we ladd.” Garcia nodded, watching with a little smile as Emily drifted back to sleep.

[90percenthoneydew]

This is so good! Emily is my favorite, and there is not nearly enough content of her out there. I would love to see more if you decide to continue.