𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ

𝐍𝐨𝐚𝐡 sits up in bed and rubs her eyes, opening them again to find herself in a place she doesn't recognize at first. She furrows her brows and swings her legs over the bed, putting her feet on the ground. She slowly stands up and looks around, the little details starting to come back to her.

This is the room where she spent some of her childhood. The room that her grandfather handpainted and her grandmother decorated with her own childhood belongings. The antique angel figurines now had dust on them and the pillowcases still smelled like her old shampoo. The pictures on the wall were of her from over ten years ago and the little desk had nothing but crayons in it.

"Port!" a once familiar voice shouts the nickname Noah hasn't heard in years.

The teen walks up to the bedroom door and slowly opens it. She peeks her head into the hallway and cautiously walks to the top of the stairs.

"Port!" the voice repeats, but its speaker appears at the bottom of the railing. "What are you doing just standing there? It's breakfast!"

An older woman with brown eyes like Gia's and a smile like Nick's looks up at her. Noah puts her hands behind her back as she nervously walks down the staircase. By the time she gets there, the woman is gone, so she relies on muscle memory to get to the kitchen.

"Hey, Port," the teen's grandfather says as he flips a blueberry pancake, her childhood favorite.

"What's wrong?" her grandmother asks. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Noah stays quiet as she gazes at them. She hasn't seen them in years, but they haven't changed at all. Their voices sound the same and their wrinkles are all in the same spots.

"Uhm," Noah stutters. "Wh-Where's Emily?"

"Emily?" her grandfather asks.

"Yeah, Emily," Noah repeats herself. "Where's Emily?"

"Are you feeling okay?" her grandmother questions as she walks over to feel her forehead.

"I feel fine," Noah says as she bats her grandmother's hand away. "Where's my mother?"

"Sweetie, if I knew, I would tell you," the older woman says as she walks to the fridge, grabbing the pitcher of orange juice.

"What do you mean?" Noah asks her.

"Well, honey, you know she's always drunk or—"

"No, no, not Gia. Emily."

"Honey, I don't know who Emily is," her grandmother chuckles quietly and points to the set table. "Now sit down and eat breakfast. Your grandfather made it just for you."

Noah looks over at her grandfather and he smiles at her. She looks to her grandmother next and she does the same. Although, their smiles soon become eerie and Noah feels her heart clench in her chest. She slowly backs away, but quickly turns around and heads straight for the front door that's just at the end of the hallway.

Noah swings the door open and waits to feel the fresh air, but finds herself in the living room of Gia's house. She slowly closes the door, not daring to make a noise. She looks around, thinking the house is empty. But her father's recliner turns around to reveal Gia with a bloody knife in her hand. Noah notices blood on her shirt and it's oozing as she speaks.

"There's no Emily here," Gia murmurs as she touches the tip of the knife to her finger, revealing her bloody hand.

Noah's eyes widen at the sight and she makes a sprint to her bedroom, hearing footsteps coming after her. She quickly opens the door and slams it shut behind her. She rests her back on the door with tightly closed eyes. She takes a deep breath, feeling like this is some sort of neverending evil funhouse.

When she opens her eyes, she finds herself in her bedroom at Emily's apartment. She lets out the breath she was holding in and smiles to herself, feeling relief from the familiar room.

"Noah," a gentle voice says with a soft knock on the door.

The teen's ears perk up as she hears her mother's voice. She jumps to her feet and opens the door without hesitation, calling out for Emily as she does so. Although, what's on the other side isn't what she expected.

Noah steps off the elevator onto the floor of the BAU. She looks down the hallway to her right and doesn't see anyone. She then peers to her left, finding everyone from the team standing in a half circle, gazing at something on the wall. Noah walks towards them, looking at the pictures of fallen agents that are hung on the wall alongside her.

Noah walks up to them and looks at the wall, seeing a picture of Emily. Her heart pounds and she walks backward as she loses her balance. She feels like all of her breath has been knocked out of her. She turns and runs back down the hallway to the elevator, repeatedly pressing the button once she gets there.

Once the elevator opens, Noah is about to step inside until she sees Emily standing there with a stake through her stomach. She gasps and jolts up, realizing that she's not outside the elevator at the BAU, she's safe in Penelope's bed.

"Noah?" Penelope quietly says, cautiously putting her hand on the teen's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"What happened?" Derek asks as he walks into the bedroom. "Are you okay? What is it?"

"I think it was a nightmare," Penelope coos as she rubs the teen's back.

Noah sits up, breathing heavily as she stares at the bedsheets. She almost feels embarrassed having woke both of them up. She puts her hands over her face and tries to calm down, but feels tears in her eyes.

It's only been 2 days since her mother's death. She has no sense of direction and has barely spoken a word. She talks in glances and nods. The only time Penelope had heard a word leave her mouth in the past 48 hours was when she was quietly talking to Sergio, who's been by her side since they got him from the hotel.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Derek asks.

Noah shakes her head and stands up, her legs wobbly. She walks past Derek and out of the bedroom. She goes to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her, but not fast enough that Sergio can't squeeze through the door. She splashes her face with some cold water and sits on the closed toilet seat.

"I'm sorry, Sergio," Noah sighs as she picks him up. "I know it's crowded with the four of us. I had a nightmare about her. I think I'll have a lot more of those. Do you think they'll ever stop?" she asks as she looks him in the eye, but he only stares back at her.

Noah sits him on her lap and pets him as she gazes at the wall, her eyes envisioning her nightmare. Even though it wasn't pretty, she was just happy to see Emily's face. She was unreachable, but she was there. Trapped in the vicious imagination of Noah's mind, but there.

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨

Penelope walks into her bedroom, stopping in the doorway as she sees Noah lying down under the covers. The teen's back is to her, shutting her out.

"Noah?" Penelope speaks softly. "It's time to get up. We have to go to the funeral."

Noah doesn't move, her body still against the mattress. Penelope's used to the sight. Even though it's only been a few days, Noah's created a routine of waking up past noon and staying in bed all day. Derek has to force her to eat food and Penelope has to physically help her change into new pajamas.

"Noah," Penelope tries again. "We can't miss it. You know she'd want you to be there," she continues but still gets nothing in return.

Derek walks up to the blonde and she shrugs at him. The man walks over to Noah and kneels down beside her. "Hey, kid, you gotta get up. I know you don't want to and it takes a lot, but I know you have it in you."

Noah opens her eyes and looks into his. She shakes her head and he nods his head in response. Derek stands and forces the teen to sit up by grabbing her arms. Noah lets it happen, not having the energy to speak against his actions.

"Penelope's gonna get you into your dress, okay?" Derek says as he helps her stand. "Don't cause her too much trouble, alright?" he asks her quietly.

The teen just looks past his shoulder. He nods for Penelope to come over and leaves the room to give them privacy.

"Come on, arms up," Penelope says, making Noah hold her arms up for her shirt to come off. "You know, it may be nice to go. You may need it more than you think. It could give you closure—"

"I don't want closure," Noah mumbles as Penelope slips the dress over her head. It's the only other black dress she has that Noah can wear. When her face comes out of the hole, she finds Penelope staring back at her, shocked to hear her voice.

"Nobody wants it," Penelope replies quietly as she straightens out the dress for Noah. "But you need it."

"Seeing her get lowered into the ground will help?" the teen asks as Penelope pulls her hair out of the dress. "I don't want to see everyone crying because she's gone. I don't want to give a speech, I don't wanna hear anyone give a speech. I don't want to have to move on."

"Noah, it'll just hurt more if you don't."

"I don't want any of this to be real. And going to the funeral will make it real."

"I know how you feel—" Penelope says, but Noah cuts her off.

"You don't."

"I do," Penelope repeats herself. "I lost my parents when I was eighteen. It was a car crash and the only reason they were in the car was because they were looking for me. They were the best people I'd ever known. And I didn't want it to be real either, but it does get better, munchkin."

Noah's eyes quiver with tears and she swallows the lump in her throat before replying. "How am I supposed to live without the person I love the most?"

"You keep loving her," Penelope says as she grabs the hairbrush from her vanity and detangles Noah's long hair. "And you never forget her. And you will keep living and growing. I promise you, she'll always be beside you, you just won't be able to see her."

"Or talk to her or hear her voice or hug her—" Noah's voice comes to a halt as her tears fall down her cheeks.

Penelope quickly hugs the teen, something that Noah hasn't let her do since that night in the hospital waiting room. She holds her tightly, not knowing when the teen will let her do it again. The blonde pulls away and goes to her vanity, picking up the necklace that she took off of Noah's neck when she found her asleep the day before. She turns the teen around and hooks it behind her neck, making the teen reach up to hold the red heart pendant in between her fingers.

Always with me, she thinks to herself.

𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳
ɴᴏᴀʜ

Penelope and Derek walk behind me as we enter the funeral home, allowing me to lead them as slowly as I want. I have hesitation in each step, not wanting to go any further but forcing myself to keep going. The room parts like the Red Sea and goes quiet as I walk in. At the other end of the room is a casket adorned with white carnations.

"Do you want to—" Penelope says softly.

"No," I mutter. "No, I don't."

As I look around the room, everyone avoids eye contact with me, scared that I'll snap or break down if they do. I turn around to walk out of the room, but a voice stops me.

"Noah," it says behind me, making me turn around. It's Elizabeth.

I don't reply because my throat clenches at the sight of her. She's the only person that I can easily see Emily in other than myself. Much to Emily's dismay, they look alike in the same way that we did, especially in the eyes.

"I'm sorry," she mutters as she pulls me into a hug.

I only have the energy to put my hand on her arm that's wrapped around my back. I lean my head on her shoulder and bite the inside of my cheek to keep my tears in.

"I've wanted to see you, but I wanted it to be in your own time," Elizabeth says as she pulls away, lifting my chin for me to look into her eyes. "Anything you need from me, I'm here. I messed something like this up once and I don't want to do it again."

She's referring to when Emily lost her dad. Even in death, we share experiences.

I nod in understanding and turn to look at Derek. He puts a hand on my shoulder and smiles at Elizabeth. It's almost like he's smiling for me because he knows I don't have the strength to do so myself.

"We're about to walk her out," Derek says quietly to me.

"Where do you wanna be?" Penelope asks. "You can walk with me behind them or we can walk beside them—"

"You should lead us," Derek insists, making me shake my head. "You were the center of her life, you should be the one to honor her."

I peer into his eyes, feeling uneasy about the action. I can see that he's not asking me to do it, he's telling me. I end up nodding anyway, agreeing to lead the men as they carry her casket.

I stand in the large doorway of the funeral home as everyone gets ready. It's an afternoon in early March, not too cold, not too hot. The sun is out and there's not a cloud in the sky, just clarity. I wonder if it's a sign that this was meant to happen. I take a deep breath and hope that at any second, I'll wake up and everything will have been a dream.

But every time I open my eyes, I'm in the same place in the same circumstances. When I feel everyone is waiting for me, I take one last breath before taking the first step. But I stop. If I take another step, it's real. We'll walk with her body to the burial site. It'll be the last time I'm on the surface of Earth with her. The last time she'll be this close to me. After this, I'll always be six feet above her.

I close my eyes and take another step, opening them again to take the next. The walk is slow, each step playing a different memory of her in my head. Whenever I was with Emily, time seemed to stand still, allowing us to make up for all the lost moments. But time decided not to be kind to us anymore. It decided to take her from me too early.

I see the hole dug in the ground, awaiting Emily's casket to fill the void. My footsteps stop as I reach the gravesite and stand to the side to let them put the casket down. I stare at the wood, admiring each engraved detail. Penelope walks over to me and puts her arm around my shoulders.

The Director of the FBI, Jack Fickler, stands at the head of the ceremony. He stands with his hands locked in front of him, lifting his head before he speaks.

"Today, we gather with heavy hearts to bid farewell to a member of our organization and it is an honor that I speak to you all today. It is with profound sadness that we mourn the loss of Special Agent Emily Prentiss, a dedicated agent whose unwavering commitment to justice and integrity left an indelible mark on all who had the privilege of knowing her. To her fellow agents, officers, friends, mother, and daughter whom her legacy has touched, you have been called upon to bear a special burden. And, though no speech or ceremony can ease your pain, no tribute or salute, we join together on this beautiful day to honor her courage and fill your hearts with our nation's gratitude. Unlike most other careers, the brave men and women who embark upon a life in law enforcement know fully that they might one day be called upon to lay down their lives in the call of duty. Agent Prentiss made that choice willingly and indeed, embraced it. And, that is why her ultimate sacrifice means so much. She served and sacrificed for a purpose far greater than herself. I can think of no truer definition of a hero. And so we honor her with the words fidelity, bravery, and integrity."

Director Fickler bows his head as a gesture of honor. He takes a United States flag that is neatly folded and walks it over to me. He bows his head again, showing his gratitude for my mother's service. Derek told me this would happen and that it's one of the greatest honors bestowed upon an agent.

I take the flag and hold it in the palms of my hands. As I peer down to look at it, one of my tears falls on it and creates a small stain. I feel fabric wipe across my face and realize that it's Penelope wiping my tears with her handkerchief.

Aaron steps up to speak and clears his throat on his way there. I take a deep breath, knowing that this speech will be more personal. Although I am grateful for Director Fickler's words, it doesn't help very much to hear about how thankful the country is for my mother's 'sacrifice,' especially since I don't believe she had a choice.

I look around at everyone, realizing that the only people I know are my grandmother and the team. I haven't told anyone else what happened. I haven't talked to anyone else at all. But maybe that's for the best. Right now, I should be surrounded by the people who knew her most.

Aaron stands tall before Emily's casket, preparing to speak.

"As the Director said, working alongside Emily was an honor. She was a bright mind with an incredible intuition and she was one of the greats. As agents, we take an oath to our country, but with the circumstances, I've taken a new one. The legacy that Emily left behind isn't the cases she solved, the people she saved, or the agents she passed her knowledge onto. Rather, her legacy stands here among us today, her daughter, Noah. I believe I can speak on behalf of the team when I say that as Emily's teammates, friends, and family, we vow to help her legacy flourish and thrive as she embarks on new adventures. We pledge our unwavering support, knowing that her journey ahead will be filled with challenges and triumphs. But as Emily's family, we embrace the responsibility of Noah's greatness and will guide her through the difficult facets of life together. We hope that you will accept this and let us take on this role," Aaron says and looks at me. "It's what she would've wanted."

I stare into his eyes, trying my best to hold in my tears. I don't want to cry in front of everyone, but his words are so kind. I nod at him to show that what he said is appreciated.

Aaron leans forward and puts a white carnation on the casket. Everyone steps forward and does the same, each time a flower is set down, someone walks away, leaving her behind. I stay until everyone is gone except for Derek, who places his flower on the wood and turns back to look at me.

I slowly step forward and lift my arm to gaze at the red rose. I refuse to set the flower of grief on her chest. All I can give her now is my love, so that's what she'll receive.

I place it on the casket and turn to walk away, not being able to bear being alone with her like this.

"Noah, you should take a moment," Derek says.

"I don't need a moment," I mumble.

"Noah, just be alone with her—"

"That's not her!" I shout as I feel my tears fall once again. "It's a box made out of wood with my dead mother's body in it. That is not her!"

"Just take a moment—"

"No!"

"Why?" Derek asks, showing that he plans to stick to the tough love approach.

"Because it's not fair!" I shout at him. "This isn't fair! This wasn't supposed to happen!" I say before turning around and walking away, but Derek calls out to me again.

"Noah, you'll regret it if you don't. You'll never stop thinking about it."

I think about his words. He's right, I won't. At some point, the dust of grief will settle and I'll wish I had cleaned it up earlier. I turn around to find Derek eyeing me with the intention to change my mind.

"I don't even know what to say—" I mutter with a shrug.

"Anything," Derek pleads. "It doesn't matter what you say, it matters that you take this chance to be close to her."

Derek walks over to me and holds out his hand. I hesitantly put mine in it and let him lead me over to the casket. It's almost an unbearable sight, knowing that my mother's body is there, but she isn't.

"I'll be over there," Derek says, putting a hand on my shoulder. Before he can walk away, I stop him by placing my hand over his.

"Will you stay?" I ask.

"If you want me to."

I turn to look at him with tears in my eyes. "I want you to."

"Okay," he agrees and I turn to look at the casket.

I stare at it for a few moments before speaking. "Hi," I say quietly, but I shake my head out of embarrassment. "Derek, this is stupid—"

"Stop overthinking it. Take a moment and say what you've always wanted to say."

"Em," I start over and place my hand on the casket, suddenly becoming overwhelmed with emotion. I didn't expect it, but he was right, I feel closer to her than I have in days.

I don't notice at first, but Derek steps back to give me privacy. The air feels heavier the more real everything becomes. This whole time I've been trying to run from the feeling of her being gone, but I now realize that I can't. Her absence will always sit in front of me, I'll never not feel it.

In this quiet moment, memories of Emily flood my mind, each one a bittersweet reminder that I'll never know that kind of love again.

"My biggest regret in life...will always be never calling you Mom. I think I'll think about that forever," I cry as I hunch over the wood, folding my arms and resting my head against them. "I really hope you can hear me because I want you to know how much I love you. And how I'll never stop loving you or thinking about you or remembering you. You gave me a place in this world. And I promise you that I will make the most of that place. Thank you. For being you and making me like you. Because if there's anyone I've ever wanted to be, I'm really glad that it's you."

I stand up straight and let the daylight see my tears. It's real now. The pain is real, the grief is real, and her death is real. It's the most bitter pill to swallow, but I don't have a choice.

"I love you, Mom," I say the four words that have been sitting on the tip of my tongue for months. And they feel like the best final words I could have chosen.

I turn around and see Derek waiting for me. I walk over to him and he puts a hand on my shoulder, pulling me into his embrace. I wrap my arms around him, squeezing tightly. When we pull apart, he goes to lead me back to the funeral home, but I shake my head.

"I think I should stay and be alone for a while," I tell him.

I see him hesitate to let me be alone, but he eventually nods. He squeezes my shoulder before walking away, leaving me with the silence of the graveyard. I walk over to a tree not too far from Emily's casket. I sit down and lean my back against it, watching as a few men lower her into the ground.

They cover her with dirt. It feels wrong to watch, but I force myself to keep my eyes on her. I wouldn't want to leave her alone. If spirits are real, which I believe they are, this must be incredibly scary. And I would sit here alone for hours into the cold, restless night if it meant keeping her company.

But at this moment, watching her gravestone being placed in the very ground I'm sitting on, I feel dead inside. Without her, life feels meaningless. The sky doesn't seem blue, the air doesn't smell like Spring, the birds don't sound like a peaceful song, the grass doesn't feel like a natural blanket to lay on. Everything feels like her—dead.