Chapter Text
This was her spot. Her little piece of solitude. She always preferred her own company, not that she often had a choice in the matter – she was never what one might call ‘popular’, and here at Yale, it was not easy to be alone. But here, this area, with its building debris and discarded, broken furniture, was left pretty much alone. The place looked a bit like a dump, she would admit that, but there was a beauty within the clutter. At least as far as she was concerned. Everyone else was content to sit on the lush, crowded, lawns and benches in the sun with their buddies and their gossip, all wanting to be looked at and admired and envied… but not her.
Emily Prentiss sat on the broken cement block, a cigarette in her hand, and headphones blotting out the rest of the world. She had always been a loner; an outcast. High school sucked for a myriad of reasons. Some were more easily shrugged off than others. She’d been lonely in high school. She was into the alternative scene and never attended the same school for long enough to actually make a real friend… so she tried whatever she could to be accepted, and failed. Johnny and Matty were the only ones who understood her, and they became her world until her world fell apart.
Fifteen.
She hated that age.
After. After Rome, she was different. The Emily that she had been for the first fifteen years of her life was gone forever. The new Emily drank too much. She smoked pot and took pills. She hid herself behind Goth. But here, at Yale, she was slowly learning that maybe she wasn’t really that person either. She was still clad in black, her eye make up heavy and dark, her lipstick purple, her nails black – but she had a ‘pop of colour’ these days (thanks to Pauly). She still loved the music, and she still smoked and drank – but the drugs had pretty much ceased. She was dressing more conservatively for class – and she actually really loved learning here. It was hard work and challenging and she got a buzz from that.
Her mom and dad had actually said they were proud (!) when she got accepted into Yale. They immediately paid for all the regalia that came with Yale, despite Emily’s insistence that they don’t – so Emily kept all that crap locked away. The Yale sweatshirt? She dumped that figure hugging sweatshirt in the trash - she didn’t want to look like some cheerleader chick. So instead, she bartered with a Senior for a second hand, very worn out, sweatshirt that was more than four sizes too big for her.
When her mother saw it, Emily thought her mom night actually have a heart attack. ‘You look like a street urchin!’ her mom had gasped. Emily didn’t try very hard to hide the satisfied grin that that gave her.
“I knew I’d find you here, you social pariah!”
Emily raised a brow as Pauly came and perched on the conrete beside her. “Want a smoke?”
“No! I’m in training!” Pauline squealed, pulling the cigarette from Emily’s fingers and stubbing it out on the cement. “And you oughtta stop too!”
“You’re ALWAYS in training.” Emily grinned, pointedly lighting up another cigarette to replace the martyred one.
Emily had hated her roommate, Pauline Turner, at first. Hated her with a passion. Pauline was the total opposite to her – a lean, trim athlete here on a soccer scholarship. Pauline was naturally blonde, beautiful and exuded a light and positivity that made Emily seethe with anger and envy. Pauline was just happy to be alive. She was insufferably health conscious – no smoking, no drinking, no drugs - and listened to the blandest music Emily had ever heard in her life. She knew that she, dressed in black, with her studs and chains, scared the living daylights out of Pauline. And Emily loved that Pauly was scared.
She called her ‘Pauly’ just to irritate her roomie. Pauline was very feminine and detested being called ‘Pauly’ because it made her ‘sound like a man’. Emily had laughed and told her ‘That’s so when some guy hits on me, if I don’t like him I tell him I live with Pauly.’ Pauline had correctly noted that Emily liked to be hit on (and often didn’t come back to the room at night), but Emily just shrugged and said ‘Tough. Pauly.’
They had nothing in common and moved in totally different circles. Pauline hung with the jocks and talked about fashion and film stars. Emily was studying language and criminal psychology and hung around with herself. She liked studying and she didn’t want distractions from it. So she and Pauline avoided one another as much as possible and barely spoke when they found themselves stuck together in the room. Pauline would often make an excuse and go jogging, or Emily would clamp her headphones on and curl up with a book, her back to her roommate.
Emily had an aura of intimidation about her – she’d toned down her ‘look’ since Georgetown a couple of years ago. Less studs, and a more conservative wardrobe – but still very gothic compared to the usual Yale types. The art crowd were more in her style, but she had nothing in common with them, socially, either. And people were intimidated by her. She figured enough of the students had seen Beetlejuice to believe that she was genuinely into the occult and maybe even had some supernatural powers. It made her laugh, and she sometimes used to play on that – pretending to be a demonologist - just to make a point.
But, about four months into the semester, she’d gotten a call from Pauline – the last person she ever expected to call her.
It was late – or rather, early in the am – and Pauline had gone to some frat party. Emily wasn’t invited, of course – but Pauline felt obliged as her squad were all going to be there. And at 2am, Emily got a call from Pauline, who was in floods of tears.
“I didn’t know who else to call!” Pauline cried.
Emily rubbed at her eyes. Fucking Pauly. “You sound weird – are you DRUNK?!” Emily laughed. Had Pauly finally let her hair down?
“Please! I think someone put something in my squash!”
Emily could hear the slur in Pauline’s words and the fear in her tone. Immediately Emily tugged her boots on as she asked “Where are you?” When Pauline told her, Emily ordered; “Can you walk outside?”
“I-I don’t know. I feel funny.”
“Stay exactly where you are. I’m on my way. I’ll be there in less than ten minutes. DON’T LET ANYONE NEAR YOU.” She paused, listening. “Pauly? Are you awake?”
“Yes.” Pauline gasped.
“STAY AWAKE. WAIT FOR ME.” Emily insisted, hanging up and running down the dormitory stairs.
It took Emily no more than five minutes to reach the frat house. She fixed her most intimidating expression on her face, and she strode up to the house and pushed her way inside, striding through the crowds until she reached the room where Pauline said she was.
“Pauly!” she called. “PAULY!”
Pauline looked up at the sound of Emily’s voice, mascara streaked down her cheeks and vomit on her shirt. Her pretty blonde hair was bedraggled and matted and she started sobbing as soon as she saw Emily standing there.
“You came!” she cried.
“You needed me.” Emily replied gently, wrapping an arm around her roommate and walking her out of the party. “Let’s get you home and cleaned up, hmm?”
Pauline nodded against Emily’s shoulder, crying softly. “Thank you.”
“You’re my roomie.” Emily nodded.
Ever since that night, they’d been friends. Instantly. When Emily awoke the next morning, she made a black coffee for herself and a white one with three sugars for Pauline. And she left a sleeping Pauline, went to the campus shop and bought some atrocious smelling kale smoothie.
She shook Pauline awake and grinned. “How’s your head?” she asked softly.
“I want to cut it off.” Pauline groaned.
Emily grinned and held out both hands.
“What’s that?” Pauline asked.
“Left or right: Left hand: Disgusting kale smoothie that you know I hate the smell of but you insist on drinking every fucking day just to piss me off. Right: coffee with milk and a ton of sugar. For the shock. Might sweeten you up a bit.”
Pauline stared at Emily, a smile touching her own lips. “You really are sweet under all that awful make up, aren’t you?”
“Tell anyone else and I’ll kill you.” Emily deadpanned.
“Coffee. Thanks.” Pauline nodded.
“Christ you must be feeling like shit.” Emily chuckled. She watched as Pauline drank, taking the empty mug and asking “You know who spiked you?”
Pauline shook her head. “Why?”
Emily shrugged innocently. “If you did, I might know someone in the Chem lab who owes me. Maybe we could dump rat poison in his root beer.”
Pauline laughed ruefully. “I’m such an idiot.”
“Why?” Emily gasped.
Pauline shrugged, her eyes in her lap. “Letting it happen.”
“HEY!” Emily almost shouted, lifting Pauline’s chin up. “YOU did nothing wrong. Understand? NOTHING. I’m gonna be in law enforcement one day, and I’m gonna nail pieces of shit, like whoever did that to you, to the wall by their ball sacks.”
Pauline stared at Emily, then burst out laughing. “You’re gonna need a pop of colour with that black when you go talking to people when you’re a cop – otherwise you’ll scare them!”
“I’m gonna be a Fed.” Emily winked. She looked down at herself, at her clothing. “I’m not good with colours.” She said awkwardly.
Pauline laughed this time. “Oh my GOD Emily! With your complexion, you’d look great in ANY colour. Hang on. Will you trust me for a minute?”
Emily shifted uncomfortably. Trust. That wasn’t easy for her. “Uh… okay…”
Pauline rummaged around in her closet, pulling out a lime green shirt. “This was made for you!” she insisted, holding it out to Emily. “Put it on under you jacket. You’ll see. You’ll still look like a total badass, I promise. Please?”
Emily chewed at her lip before grinning and unfastening her leather wrist band. “Tell you what – I’ll do it, the colour thing, IF you’ll wear this?”
Pauline looked at the band with its studs lining the length. She’d never worn anything like that before. “Deal.” She leaned up and pecked Emily on the cheek.
They sat together now, Emily smoking and Pauline perched beside her, leather band on her wrist, in a peaceful silence.
Pauline leaned closer, resting her head on Emily’s shoulder.
“I thought you hated this place.” Emily chuckled softly.
Pauline shrugged. “You’re here.”
“The others’ll notice you hanging around me.” Emily noted.
Pauline shrugged. “One kiss?”
Emily smiled and leaned down, kissing Pauline gently. Pauline had told her, a few nights after that party, that she was gay, but didn’t want anyone to know. She didn’t want the shit that she’d get for ‘coming out’, and she was afraid that she might get dropped from the team. As for Emily? She liked Pauline but she certainly didn’t want yet another stigma. Besides, she liked guys, too… but Pauline was sweet and gentle and they’d found themselves sharing Pauline’s bed from time to time whenever one of them needed it. Just secretly. In public, they made a game of playing that they still hated one another. Emily knew it was a fleeting ‘thing’. They were headed in different directions, but it was nice not to feel so alone.
“Why’d you come get me that night?” Pauline asked softly. “I know you hated me.”
Emily smiled. “What sort of Fed would I be if I left you there?”
Pauline huffed.
“No, I…I would never have left you there, Pauly. I’ve been there myself, when I was younger, but I didn’t have anyone to call. I just did what I wished someone had for me.”
Pauline’s arms wrapped more tightly around Emily and she kissed her tenderly again.
“You should get back to the others.” Emily smiled against her lips.
Pauline sighed guiltily and nodded. “Don’t stay out tonight – come back to the room?”
Emily nodded, stealing one last kiss, before Pauline headed away from the quiet spot and jogged back towards the main campus.