She doesn't know where else to go.
She knows what he said, about keeping them out of the loop. She can't afford to let any of them suspect anything, let alone actually know something about this. Like most creatures of the Earth, she would do anything to protect her family, including keeping them in the dark.
She's always prided herself on being strong. When she was a girl, she would often come home from school to find packing boxes lined up in the hallway of her home, already half full and bearing the address of their next destination. This was often the way she found out about a new move, by looking at the tags and stickers on the suitcases, discovering yet again that it was time for them to go. She'd learnt long ago not to show weaknesses, not to give into emotions, not to cede any control.
She knows he wants her dead. She's already, in some way or form, accepted this. It's the fright, however, the fear of the unknown that is driving her crazy. It's the hyper-vigilance that is pushing her over the edge, leaving her unable to sleep, to rest, to even breathe without letting down her guard. She's fuelled now mostly by adrenaline and caffeine, sustaining herself on her own fear and anxiety, keeping her in a constant state of mental and physical motion, unable to stop. All she knows now is that she is near her breaking point, and that she can't be alone.
She knocks on the door quickly, knuckles rapping against the polished wood. There's a buzzing in her ear that just won't go away, a constant voice whispering just beyond audible range. She knows she doesn't have long left here, that she's got to get out soon, get out and go far away. She shouldn't even be stopping here, especially after what Doyle had said. She should just go and-
The door swings open, breaking her out of her frenzied reverie. He stands before her, eyes heavy with sleep, body slow and sluggish, and hair dishevelled and matted down on one side. "Emily...?" his asks, his voice croaking, his body still half-asleep. "Are you okay?" he asks, his eyes becoming more focused as he slowly returns to a conscious state.
"Can I come in?" she breathes, stepping into his house without waiting for an answer.
"Sure...?" he says, confusion evident in his tone of voice, but even as he says it he is closing the door behind him, turning the lock back into place.
She passes a mirror as she walks down the hall, stopping in her tracks as she sees her reflection. Her hair is slightly out of place, but still acceptable; her clothes look slightly worse for wear, with a bra strap showing from underneath her open necked sweater, but overall she doesn't look too out of place. It's her eyes, however, that catch her own attention: she can see the wild, unrestrained panic in her own stare, the barely restrained terror fully evident in the tight lines of her face, the nervous set of her jaw.
"Emily?" he calls out again, concern having now replaced confusion. She can see him out of the corner of her eyes, though she is still facing the mirror, unable to look away. She can feel the nervous energy coursing through her veins, the electric current fuelled by her flight instinct keeping her constantly on her toes.
He steps closer to her, worried now. "What is it, Emily, what's wrong?"
Her hands are tingling with energy, and she has to fight to keep her fingers from moving. She can't take this anymore, this constant fear, this never-ending anxiety. She's tired of running, tired of always looking over her shoulder, and, most of all, tired of keeping everyone in the dark. She knows she can't stop running, not now, but she's just so damn tired and yet the terror inside her is keeping her mercilessly awake.
Doyle is coming, and there's nothing she can do about it. Her body is screaming to keep moving, to get rid of this energy and of this panic, but she doesn't want to run anymore.
And as Reid moves one step closer to her, she knows exactly how to stop.
He's reaching a hand out to her, a comforting one meant for her shoulder, but she spins suddenly and grabs him by the elbow. She tugs him towards her roughly, and as he stumbles towards her she reaches for his face with both hands, pulling his lips down to hers in one frenzied movement. She presses her lips against his hungrily, desperately, as her tongue presses against his lips and he, too stunned to think, opens his mouth to meet hers.
He breaks away from her after a moment, the fog lifting from him, as he pushes back from her and holds her by the shoulders. "Emily, I- I mean I don't, uh, know... what- what is going on?"
She looks up into his eyes and sees only trust and concern reflected in his gaze. There's no panic there, no wild-eyed terror, and no glint of malice. She sees everything she stands to lose in his gaze, and she knows that she doesn't want to leave without feeling this comfort, this friendship one last time.
"Please, Spencer," she murmurs, locking her eyes with his own, "I need you to kiss me." Her voice drops down even softer, and it becomes almost a pleading request for release. "Please."
There's terror now, too, in his eyes, but terror of another nature. It's the age old fear of the unknown. He's fighting something now, something deep within, torn between his mind and his emotions.
"Okay," he whispers. He hesitates briefly, still unsure and still confused, but the part of him that longs for human contact, the part that needs to feel connected, has suddenly taken control. He brings his lips down to hers, moving his hands down to her face, and she can feel the tears of relief crawl down her cheeks as his lips make contact with her own.
"Take me upstairs, Spencer," she whispers when they finally break apart.
And, as he looks down into her eyes and sees the pain they hold reflected back at him, he obliges her.
In the morning, when the street outside his bedroom window is still dark and silent, she untangles herself out of his sleeping embrace, quietly puts back on her clothes and shoes, and slips out the door. And as she goes, she knows that all that was once Emily Prentiss is lost to her now, as she abandons her friend and runs away from all she's ever known.