Three part pieces for class. Emily first. Hotch second. Rossi last.

Emily comes back and she doesn't.

She wakes before her alarm now.

Can't say why; it's frustrates her.

She doesn't like to remember why.

She's never felt so tired.

She's more irritable at the office,

though she tries very hard not to be.

Without coffee, Reid and Garcia's chattering resembles Sergio's wailing in her ears

but she'll smile sweetly and kindly; the pained strain beneath it goes unnoticed.

Her head pounds like a drum,

she's dizzy most of the morning.

She's not sure if it's sleep or if it's because the granola bar doesn't

sit with her stomach.

She doesn't eat much now.

She forgets sometimes;

other times she just doesn't.

Everything roils her stomach.

Half-eaten dinners are nauseating.

She just wants to sleep.

Thoughts are distracted, it's

getting very hard to

focus

on anything outside

of cases.

Even keeping her

eyes from glazing over

is a struggle.

It's almost a defense

mechanism

from the violence,

until she reminds herself that

all of this is old hat.

It has to be.

To survive,

she must

die.