"I'm an echo, in your shadow, and your shadows, they run so deep. In the river, your reflection, is a promise, you couldn't keep."

You loved your mom, that wasn't a secret. From the day you were born, you became best friends; though, that came with a few problems of its own. Sure, some people thought it was a little bit weird to be super close with a parent, but you didn't, and why would you?

Emily was your main source of comfort when you had a bad day, and knew exactly how to read you every hour of the day, since you were a kid; and would only settle after a nightmare if you slept in her bed. Even up to now, when you would go to the BAU everyday after school (apart from the days you had extra-curriculars), to work on your homework in her office. Not to mention she was your inspiration.

Okay, maybe inspiration is a bit too heavy a word, but it feels right. Besides, if it wasn't for her, you'd probably never know what a profiler was, or become better in social situations, via her teaching you basic ways to read other people's emotions and mannerisms, and how to be better equipped when dealing with them, as well as your own when she wasn't around.

To say you were her mini-me would be a spot on description. From the same jet black hair and dark-brown doe-eyes, to the nose she grew up hating (but you always loved), and the similar attitude you both shared (as well as the sarcasm, on the rare-ish occasions when you managed to pull it off).

You were graduating high school soon, and knew exactly how you wanted the next stage of your life to pan out; Ivy League university (you were more than smart enough to be accepted to at least one), majoring in Criminology and Linguistics, get a doctorate in Psychology, and apply to the FBI academy as soon as possible, to become a profiler; just like your mom.

Until you were on the receiving end of a comment from one of the "mean girls" at your school, that completely wrecked the plan you'd been perfecting in your head for the last few years; "You're never gonna be good enough for something like that. Besides, you can barely go without mommy-dearest for more than a few hours a day; what are you gonna do when you have to wait for weeks between seeing her?"

"Honey, I'm home!" You heard Emily call from downstairs, while you were in your bedroom, curled up under the covers with tear-stained cheeks.

It was only 5, and you hadn't anticipated her return from work for at least another hour. Panic set in at the possibility of your mom seeing you upset; no matter how quickly you rushed to the bathroom adjoined to your room to clean yourself up, and make a half-assed effort to look like your world hadn't just felt like it'd crumbled around you, she'd still be able to tell, so you opted to staying where you were.

"Sweetheart, are you in there?" Your mom said, knocking on your closed door three times. Two unspoken questions hanging in the air; 'Are you okay? Can I come in?'

"Yeah." You replied, not really giving much of an answer to either, your voice raspy.

"What's going on?" She asked softly, as she sat down on the edge of your bed, combing a hand through the part of your hair poking out from the duvet you'd wrapped around you, leaving a hole for your face so you could breathe.

"I don't wanna be a grown up." You answered, your bottom lip wobbling slightly, as a fresh wave of tears started flooding your vision, and a new sob got caught in the back of your throat, making you cough.

"Oh, my love-" Emily started, before cutting herself off, and moving to lie next to you, wrapping both of her arms around your shaking form; enveloping you into a tight hug, something she just knew you needed.