Dirty Little Secrets (Demily fanfic) [REWRITE IN PROGRESS]

Chapter 3: How Do I Forget? (Rewrite in-progress)

Chapter 3: How do I Forget? (Derek)

I sit on the bed in the hotel room, looking outside into the darkness. I think of how Emily would love to watch the stars. She would watch sunset and sunrise everyday, and would always start talking about astrology and the way the starts communicate to one another. She even went as far as to say the stars would fall in love. Everything forms a bigger picture for her. The stars fall in love and start families, the constellations are their family trees. How could I stop myself from falling in love with someone so innocent as that.

This is my problem, I can't forget about her when she is all I think about. I wish I could wake up with amnesia and forget about all the little things. Her sweet smile, deep brown eyes, strong personality....

This has to stop. I'm past the phase of denial, I know she's really gone. Although I'm still angry about what happened. I have come to terms with the fact that she is gone and not coming back, but it is hard to believe that when I keep seeing her everywhere. First at her grave, then on the plane. When I got off the plane I saw someone standing on a balcony of an apartment building who looked just like her, she even stopped and stared at me for a while. I see her everywhere. Am I going insane?

I dream about her that night. A fantasy where she came back, and she never really died. We fell madly in love, started our own family. I promise her that I'll always protect her, tell her that she'll never slip away again. I tell her that I love her, which is the first thing I would say to her if she was here. Per usual the dream quickly fades to a nightmare.

  Ian Doyle holds a gun to her head as she sits tied to a chair. The air around us smells of rust and the concrete is stained with blood. "Any last words?" I try to move my hands and realize I am tied to a chair next to her. Emily looks me in the eye and smiles. "Kilgore Trout." I smile back instinctively.

"What, the man has a problem with Kurt Vonnegut?" She smiles at my reply. We both know that this is one of our special connections. A way of saying I love you. "What the hell is that?" Ian demands of us, angrily waving the gun in our direction. "It's the first time I ever made her day." I reply, my gaze not leaving her smile.

"You can take my life, Doyle, but you can never have our memories." Emily says, a smirk on her face. She meets my gaze, unbothered by the events about to take place. "We'll just have to see about that." I start to form the words in my mouth but they are twisted when he pulls the trigger. I watch it in slow motion. The bullet release, the impact, the recoil, and her body falling limp against the chair. Some sort of cry comes from my mouth along with uncontrollable tears. "Emily! Emily!"

"Emily!" I awake in another fit, screaming her name and sweating. I'm beginning to think I will relive her death for he rest of my life. It's been almost 7 months, yet the night terrors still come every night, and nothing helps to fix it. 

I get up, shower, and take my jacket off the hook. I ride down the elevator and walk out onto the busy streets. I have no idea what time it is, but judging by the lack of pedestrian traffic I would safely assume some time before 4am. I walk downtown and find myself in a park. I take a seat on a bench, the surrounding trees are full of light, and I press my shoes into the freshly fallen snow on the ground. Emily never liked the cold but she always loved the snow. She thought it was beautiful.

"Don't you just love this?" She asks. I've gotten used to seeing and hearing her now, she just shows up whenever I think about her. She follows me around like a ghost. "Of course I do,  because you loved it." She smiles brightly. "Man, what was I missing when I was alive? I should have made a move on you a long time ago." She chuckles to herself, taking a seat beside me on the bench. "Emily I would have loved you to the ends of the earth." I reply.

"Yeah, well Aaron made that promise too, I still ended up dead." She says, rather annoyed. I turn to look at her. "Emily, your death was my fault, not his." I try and explain to her. "Excuse me? I don't remember you stabbing me in the gut with a wooden stake like some bad vampire movie." She throws at me. A glare of annoyance clear on her face. "If I had gotten there sooner I could have done more."

 "No, Derek. There was nothing you could have done. I was practically dead when I hit the ground. It's my own fault though. I was the one who pulled the whole Declan trick on Doyle." She sighs. I take it that she considers her death a suicide, as it was her own actions that lead to her death.

  "Em, why are you here?" I ask.
  "Because you need me to be. You'll go insane. Commit suicide with your own gun."
  "Well I'd get to live happily with you."
  "Derek, I don't even know what the live me would do if you asked her on a date. Knowing the things I know now, I'm different. I know you've noticed the differences."
  "You're peppier. Less focused. An alter ego to Emily. To be honest, one I'm not so fond of."
  "Fair enough. I guess I just don't have the worries and problems of the world hanging me anymore. I'm not constantly fighting the rope around my neck."
  "You should have just let me in Em. But instead, all you did was put us all at risk."
  "Derek I only ran to protect the team. You guys are my family."
  "I know. Trust me." I hardly notice when she disappears. Because the moment she does I see her again. But not the Emily in my mind. Only 10 feet away. She sits on a park bench with her face in a book. Her posture... Her gestures.. It's her. I can't stop myself before I speak.
  "Prentiss?" She looks up at me and I catch a glimpse of her beautiful features. It's her. I am 100 percent sure. So many feelings wash over me. Her mouth forms a single word.
  But as soon as she looks at me she's gone. I blink, and she's gone. But she was just there... I saw her... she said my name... but how...?
  I pull out my phone and dial Hotch.
  "Aaron Hotchner."
  "She's alive Hotch! I just saw her! Emily is alive!"
  "Derek, Emily is dead. You couldn't have seen her. If you really did, then you are imagining her."
  "She responded to her name."
  "There are many people named Emily."
  "Her last name. I called her Prentiss, and she looked at me for a brief moment. She said my name Hotch."
  "Derek..."
  "Why don't you believe me Hotch? It's her."
  "I don't believe you because I know she's dead and I don't want to have to go through the pain of losing the woman I love all over again." He takes me by surprise.
  "Hotch..."
  "Yes. Before she died we were together."
  "I'm sorry."
  "Derek she's dead. What's done is done, and there is no sense grieving over the past."
  "There's something I have to tell you."
  "Anything."
  "This thing I'm feeling... I don't know what it is. Every time I hear her name or think of her something strikes inside of me. My stomach starts bouncing, my mind starts racing... I've missed her. More than I should."
  "Derek it's called love. I got that feeling every time I saw Haley. Every time I heard her voice, or saw her handwriting. It's something you can't replace, and it doesn't just go away."
  "You're saying I love her."
  "I'm saying you think you do because she's gone."
  "Sorry to break it to you Hotch, but this thing I'm feeling... It started long before she died." He stays silent for a moment before answering calmly.
  "She's gone Morgan. I'm sorry." And the line goes dead.
  Am I really this crazy? She was there. I know she was. How could I see her just the way she use to be without her really being here? Stop it Derek.
  Start with what you know is real...
  My name is Derek Morgan. I live in Quantico Virginia. I am in Paris. My best friend Emily Prentiss is dead. She was murdered by Ian Doyle. I watched her die. Ian Doyle is dead. Decland is safe. I miss Emily. Too much. I love her. I may even be in love with her. That doesn't matter, Emily Prentiss is dead. I am going insane, I need help. I am incomplete. I have no idea who I am without her, I don't need help. I need her. Emily Prentiss...