"Look, Reid, I know you're mad at us because we didn't tell you what really happened, and I understand that. But I promise you, we had no choice. You mourned the loss of a friend. I mourned the loss of six.

"This whole thing gave me an ulcer. Please don't give me another one."

It takes a while for him to respond, after she says her piece. She almost starts to speak again, the words "Are you gonna go to Rossi's tomorrow?" on the tip of her tongue, but something about his demeanor gives her pause. They're not supposed to profile each other, but it's hard to ignore the undoubtedly painful clench of his jaw. She starts to think that he's going to stay quiet, just ignore her attempts at patching things up until she goes away. She's thinking about admitting defeat and doing just that when he finally opens his mouth.

"In those months after… after Georgia," he starts, voice so measured it barely breaks, "I was… pretty awful to you." His nose twitches. "Do you know why?"

Emily freezes. He's never spoken about this before, not to her, and now seems like a rather abrupt time to start. She sits up, tosses her hair behind her shoulder, and tries to ignore the sudden feeling that she's in out of her depth. "You'd just gone through a major trauma," she says, carefully avoiding the obvious. "I never held it against you."

He nods, but doesn't look up. "And I'm grateful for that. But you know what I mean. It's kind of an open secret here, isn't it?"

Emily bites her lip. "Reid-"

"You know, no one ever asked?" He puts the book down, finally meeting her stare, and wow, she really wishes he was still avoiding her gaze, because the sheer hurt in his eyes hits her harder than a punch to the gut. When he continues, it's in a harsh whisper. "I was- I was struggling, for so long, and everyone knew. But no one ever asked, not really. And I get it, if anyone said anything I could have lost my job, I understand. But do you have any idea how hard it was to quit on my own?"

"I can't even imagine," Emily says diplomatically. Under the table, she keeps her hands still and fights the urge to pick at her nails.

"I don't resent you. Any of you. That was my problem and I handled it on my own. But no one ever asked in Texas, either. Owen Savage killed eight people less than a week after the anniversary of-" He cuts himself off, swallowing his words and exhaling a shaky breath. He looks down at the still-open book in his hands. "I don't expect anything more than a professional relationship with my colleagues. I would like to consider all of you friends, but I know that isn't my right."
"Reid, we are your friends," Emily tries, and that was clearly the wrong thing to say because the hurt shifts to anger faster than she can track.

"Oh, really? Are you? Could have fooled me," he snaps, walls fully back into place.

Emily leans forward and sets her jaw. For a moment, she thinks of a plane ride just a few short years ago, sitting in this same position and telling him that she'd chosen to take a beating for him and she'd do it again. "Reid, that's not fair. JJ was in an impossible position. She would have told you in an instant if she could have, but it just wasn't safe."

"Why?" he demands. "Why wasn't it safe? What, was Doyle going to stalk all of us? You think we wouldn't have kept it secret? You didn't trust us, I don't see why I have any reason to trust you anymore."

"Four years of working together isn't reason enough?"

"That's the funny thing about trust. Way easier to break than to build." He huffs out a sigh. "Look, Emily, when I found out you were alive, I thought I had to be dreaming, I was so relieved. I really am happy to have you back. I'd just appreciate it if everyone would stop acting like just because your death was fake, the grief was too. No one - no one ever asks, or if they do, they don't listen, and that's okay, they shouldn't have to." His grip on the book tightens. "It's just that the only time I actually told was when I showed up at JJ's doorstep."

"She was just trying to help," Emily says, resolute.

"I lost you, Emily," he says, his voice choked. "You don't understand, you were dead. I know you just want things to go back to normal, because you're tired of this and you just want to move on, but you don't get it. You didn't mourn us, you knew that we were safe and alive the whole time. We were here, and to us, you were in the ground. Even if JJ was trying to help, it doesn't change the fact that she kept you there." He gives her that classic Dr. Reid half smile, the one that doesn't reach his eyes, and says, "I don't know how to go back to normal, Emily. I don't know if I can."

For a moment, she is well and truly stunned. Reid isn't Hotch, he's never hidden behind heavy silence and a face of stone, but Emily truly can't think of the last time she's heard him this vulnerable. She'd missed him in Paris, missed those awkward smiles and rambling sentences. In some detached way, she'd known that he would miss her too. She'd envisioned her funeral time and time again, she'd pictured the shock and the grief and the loss. But she'd also pictured the healing. The team would go on without her, just as it had without Gideon, and without Elle Greenaway before him. Seaver would pick up her slack, they'd find someone else for the rest. She'd needed to believe that they would be okay.

Emily never found normal in Paris. Life settled into routine, but it never felt right, not until she took those first few steps back into the round table room. It had felt like a homecoming.

She'd just been naive to think that her home could be the same as it was seven months ago.

Emily had been a spy for years and yet she thinks that Reid has faced more betrayal in his young life than she saw in her whole career. Gideon betrayed him in leaving, just as his father did so long ago. His mother, no matter how involuntarily, betrayed him every time she looked at him without recognition, every time she remembered paranoid delusions more clearly than she remembered her own son. The team, as much as they are loath to admit it, had betrayed him after Georgia by responding to his newfound anger rather than his shaking hands and desperate cries for help.

Emily wants this to be simple. She needs simplicity after living in a web of secrets and lies for so long she started to forget the truth. But this isn't simple, and she can't will a miracle fix into existence by pretending nothing is really broken.

This is something she - and Hotch, and JJ, but right now, just she - has to work at.

She hesitates, then reaches out a hand. He looks down at it, but doesn't flinch when she grips his arm. 'I don't know how to go back to normal,' he'd said, and it hits her then. "I shouldn't have asked you to," she says. "I'm sorry."

He stills under her hand, swallowing hard.

"I know you're hurt, and honestly, you have every right to be. I'm sorry for the way everything was handled. Everything," she says, trying to convey that she means more than just the past seven months. "I'm sorry for leaving." He looks up sharply, eyes wide like he's been caught. She gives him a meaningful look. Profiler, remember? she thinks. "I didn't want to, and I swear to you, it seemed like my only option. But I'm back now, and I promise, I'm not going anywhere this time."

He gives her a jerky nod, and she knows that he doesn't entirely believe it. She can't blame him, the kid's so used to abandonment by now that he practically expects it, but it still makes her heart sink.

Emily steels herself.

She knows it's not all hers to fix, but she'll do whatever she can. "I'm back, Reid. And right now, I'm asking. How can I fix it? Or at least, how can I help?"

"Time?" He blurts, like the word has been lodged in his throat. "Please just don't pretend like everything is okay, not yet. I'm just- I'm mad, and I'm… " He trails off. Takes a deep breath. "Time. That's all I want."

"Alright," she says. He looks impossibly young all of a sudden, his eyes bright with unshed tears. She tries to smile at him, but she's filled with too much concern, too much regret, for her expression to be anything but sad. "I can give you that."

And when he shows up at Rossi's that night, she doesn't comment on the obvious tension that still radiates from every interaction between him and JJ. She doesn't try to intervene or call him on it, and she glares down Hotch when he starts to.

It's not all fixed, it's not all better, and it'll be some time before they'll be able to say it is. She sees that now.

But when she watches Reid genuinely laugh at JJ's impression of Henry on his first trip to the beach, she thinks she can see that happy future a little bit more clearly.

It'll just take time.