A/N:

For this fanfiction's purposes I'm going to change Emily's age and a few other dates. Also, she's never had an abortion at the age of 15.

Emily was born on October 12th 1975.

Graduated from Garfield High at the age of 17 in June 1993.

From June 1993 to September 1994 she took a Gap year.

This fic begins on May 1994 and I'm planning on recreating the events until she joins the BAU. (although it's a bit premature to promise that)

I'm also planning on making Reid an important part of the story (if we make it to the BAU years). He won't be Emily's lover but he will play an important role...

If you have any questions please feel free to ask and please do let me know whether you liked this or not and if I should keep going. Your opinion is important and I'll take it in consideration for future chapters.

I have 5 chapters already written so if you show interest in the fic I should be able to update a bit more frequently than my other fic.

Thanks for taking the time to read the note and I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds or any character of the show. Not that you'd think I do, but anyways… :D


Chapter 1

Typically, this would have been a good day. The Ambassador had left the house early in the morning to attend an important meeting and a business lunch that would certainly extend until probably sometime close to dinner. With some luck, no one would notice her presence today.

Had it started as a normal day without the Ambassador in the house, Emily would have probably enjoyed the calm of not having to deal with either her mother or her 'I'm-so-disappointed-in-you' speeches. Of course, Emily was already so used to those that she could bluntly ignore them and the sound of her mother's voice but, at the end of the day, and even if she wouldn't admit vulnerabilities easily, she would be lying if she said it didn't affect her that the person she was supposed to trust the most was the one she couldn't stand.

With the Ambassador gone for the day, the entire staff fell into a peaceful working rhythm and hadn't she been forced to be concerned for her life so early in the day, Emily herself would have been enjoying the pleasures of not having to calculate her every move to walk around unnoticed.

Emily paced in her bedroom not too confident that she would live through the fight she knew she would have to have with her mother.

It wasn't going to be pretty, and she was well aware of the fact.

"Fuck!" Emily muttered, pacing around her oversized room.

Everything in that house was oversized. Not that she minded, after all, it meant more places to hide from her mother, but everything in it looked so artificial and plotted it made her want to throw up. Why pretend to be a happy family when clearly, they were not?

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" She slumped down on her bed and looked at the stick on her hand. "Fuck!"

"That's what got you in trouble in the first place..."

Emily shot her friend a murderous look, letting him know it was not the time to make a joke.

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

"I have no fucking idea, Matthew," Emily grunted, using her hands to lift her body from where she was sitting at the end of the bed, so she could push it backwards and sit closer to the headboard.

Emily rested her back against the mountain of pillows, brought her feet closer to her hips - not caring that her boots were planted firmly on the overpriced bed decoration - and placed the stick on top of her belly.

"You have to tell John, Emily," Matthew told her when he thought it was safe to share his opinion.

Emily just turned her head on the pillow and looked at him with a blank expression.

"My mother is going to kill me," she stated simply.

It was a fact to her. She knew her mother would look at her sternly, purse her lips and choose her words carefully before attempting to say something. The Ambassador would then condemn her, using the finest words known to man and all that without ever raising her voice. She would have to face the piercing look in her mother's eyes and be remembered of every reason why she shouldn't have been born – as if she had had a choice.

"Since when do you care about what your mother thinks?" he asked, frowning as he stepped back and propped himself up to sit on Emily's desk.

"I don't, Matthew, but this time it is different." She sighed. "I can't make 'this'," she stressed, waving her hands on top of her stomach. "Go away," she finished with obvious frustration in her voice.

Emily groaned as she pondered her options.

"You can..." he whispered, flinching at the fact he had dared to say it.

"What?" she shot her eyes open and looked at him surprised.

"I'm just saying, Emily... there are places where they..." he paused. "You know... terminate." He shrugged.

"No."

Emily got up in a swift movement and placed her hands on her stomach.

"No, Matthew. I'd rather be kicked out and shipped to Birmanya." She shook her head. "I'm not going to kill 'this'."

Matthew breathed a sigh of relief.

"You do realize that 'this' is your baby, right?"

Emily flinched as soon as she heard the words.

"Yeah..." she said slowly. "Right... no. It's an 'it' and I'm not getting too attached," she said forcefully while shaking her head.

"Why's that?"

"I'm pretty sure the Ambassador will take it away the minute it pops out."

Emily shuddered at the image in her head, shaking her head and deciding she didn't want to go there at the moment It was not the time to imagine overstretched vaginas, especially hers.

"What do you want, though?"

Emily's eyes met Matthew's, showing him a rare vulnerability - fear.

"I don't know," she whispered. "And I don't think it matters anyway," she added, snapping back to reality and slipping the mask on as quickly as it had fallen.

"It does. You are eighteen, technically your mother has no power over your decisions."

At that, Emily had to laugh.

"She's an Ambassador, Matthew. I'm eighteen, but you understand better than anyone that if I'm a threat to her political career, she will use every resource she has to get rid of the problem. My opinion won't matter, and I'm not sure I can go against her on this one."

"You're always running against her. Are you really stopping now?"

Emily shook her head. "How am I supposed to raise a baby on my own, Matthew?"

"You could start by telling John you're pregnant with his kid," he suggested.

"That's not the point right now, Matthew. John is just a pawn in the middle of this, as am I. If the Ambassador wants to get rid of it, she will, and I'll have to let her..." she explained. "I can't raise a baby without money. And trust me... she will cut my allowance if I put up a fight."

"You've lived without her allowance before," Matthew stated, grinning as the fights Emily had stirred just to get on her mother's nerves. More often than not, she had ended up without said allowance.

"Sure, but it was just me. I can fend for myself, plus, at the end of the day I had a place to come and a bed and food. I won't have any of it then. And my job won't pay for me and a baby."

"Don't you have like ten trust funds?" he frowned.

"Three and I can't use them until I'm 21," Emily told him. "Trust me Matthew... it's a dead end, and the Ambassador knows it. She'll kick me out of the house and cut my allowance, and then she will call social services and report a case of a mother with no conditions to raise a baby. They'll take it away. It will be gone either way," Emily admitted. "It's for the best if I give up the rights willingly."

"Really?" Matthew asked, astonished. "You're not even going to put up a fight?"

"I don't know what to do about this one," she confessed.

She knew confession meant weakness - that had been the motto her mother had forced on her as she grew up - but she also knew that if she ever needed a friend to talk to, it was now.

"How about going all Emily Prentiss on her?"

Emily chuckled.

"Emily you can do this with or without your mother, it's just a matter of trusting yourself!"

Matthew jumped off Emily's desk and sat at the end of her bed, patting the space beside him, telling her to sit next to him.

She complied and let Matthew wrap his arm around her.

"There's no one stronger than you Emily," he whispered. "No one that I know of anyway," he added. "I've known you since your first time in Rome... that's 4 years now, Emily, and I've never seen your mother raising a finger to help you. And I'm not talking money," he said. "It has always been you alone, and you turned out ok. I'd say you can also figure out something this time," he told her, resting his hand protectively on Emily's stomach. "Plus, you have me."

Emily chuckled once again.

"What?"

"That sounded so corny, Matthew..." she grinned, kissing his cheek. "Thank you," she told him honestly, relaxing on his arms.

For once she was happy her mother had accepted the posting in Rome. It had brought her two amazing friends - the only friends she had beyond the fences - and the fact that their parents were also diplomats meant they really understood loneliness as much as she did. For that they had accepted her right away and for that she was grateful.