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It was strange the way one fell into familiar habits ; how quickly six years could evaporate in the blink of an eye. Things that one hadn’t even thought about in all that time , suddenly, in a heartbeat, were back again. As natural as breathing.
Setting traps; sitting night after night with a gun in hand; watching the door. Waiting. Feeling the cold cement under your palms and knees as you checked beneath the chassis for bombs. Replacing food and sleep with nicotine and caffeine.
Just like that. As if no time had passed at all. As if you had never stopped doing those things. These things were unnatural for a person to do – she knew that… but habits were like that, she supposed. And so checking for bombs and faces hidden in shadows became, once again, natural. Normal.
Six years ago, Emily had spent six months doing these things daily, ever expecting one of Ian’s hitmen to be waiting, to put a bullet through her brain or blow her to smithereens when she turned the ignition key. Six long months. She had buried Lauren, but Emily had lost herself in between the sleepless nights and caffeine fuelled days. She couldn’t let Emily Prentiss return, not until she was sure it was safe, so her body drifted in some limbo between the two – Lauren and Emily. Never feeling real. Never safe.
It took months of therapy and a Hell of a lot of understanding from Clyde for her to get through it – and now? Now she was right back there again. And Emily? Emily was already fading away; vanishing beneath the robotic necessity of trap setting and bomb checking. Already, Emily Prentiss was being packed up in a little box and hidden away inside the body she had inhabited, ready to be replaced with whatever new personality was needed to escape Ian. But already it was Lauren who she could feel bubbling beneath the surface of her skin. Lauren’s resolve. With one single aim: to stop Ian before he could hurt her team. Her friends. Because that, she knew too well, was his MO: he would kill those she loved before he came for her. He would make her hurt in the worst possible way, and then, one night, he would come for her and he would kill her. After he had his fun.
She was afraid, though not for herself. Why should she be? She knew intimately what Ian Doyle was capable of. Her team though? That was a different matter. She was afraid for them. For what he would do to them to get to her. It was why she had always tried never to get too close to anyone. And why she cursed herself now for allowing herself to fall into a false sense of security. She cursed herself for letting her team into her heart. But in her heart they were, and to protect them she would do whatever it took. She would be Lauren again. She would step up and face Ian Doyle. She would take whatever he gave. Because her team were innocent and she? She was not.
Emily huffed softly and brushed the dust from her pants. “No bomb today.” She breathed to the air. Her fingers automatically checking her phone for the fiftieth time in the last thirty minutes; checking for messages from Sean or Tsia. Checking that they were still safe. “Fuck.” She hissed, shoving the phone back into her pocket. And already her fingers itched to check it again.
The drive to Quantico was uneventful. She had left an hour earlier than usual, knowing that she would be taking detour after detour to shake any tail that may or may not be following her. She chuckled darkly to herself – to her teammates, she had somewhat of the reputation of definitely not being a ‘morning person’. If they could see her now – wide awake before three am and driving to the office before the sun rose in the sky. She looked at said sunrise and smiled softly. JJ – the epitome of an early riser – would always nag her whenever they shared a hotel room in some Godforsaken backwater that she ought to get up early and enjoy the dawn. Emily would scoff, bury herself deeper under the covers and say ‘If you’re up so early Jareau, make yourself useful and grab your buddy a coffee’. That usually resulted in JJ whipping the sheets from Emily’s bed and smirking, one brow raised, as Emily grumbled, forced into wakefulness.
Emily wiped hurriedly at the tear that ran down her cheek at the memory. JJ. Her friend. They’d been close. Shared secrets. Well, Emily corrected, JJ had shared secrets while Emily listened. And Emily? Well, there were some secrets, some facts about herself, that she swore no one would ever know. And now those secrets were threatening to spill out; to be revealed to everyone that she held dear. And she knew that once those secrets were out, a line would be crossed, and things would never, could never be the same between them again.
Maybe that was her just punishment? And she would take it – for JJ; for Hotch. For their children. For Derek and Spencer and Penelope. For Dave. For Sean and Tsia and Clyde. They were all at risk. Because of her. The former agents that Ian had already slaughtered to get to her. Their families. Christ. Christ.
She had stared at those bodies, at the family wiped out and she had fought to keep from throwing up on the spot. Sean hadn’t yet contacted her… but somehow, somehow deep down she KNEW it was Ian. She knew it was time. That he was coming for her. She knew it when the hail of bullets rained upon her and Derek as Ian’s men attacked. She knew it. And when Sean finally called her to meet… her stomach felt like cement. She knew. She knew.
This past week had been hard. It wasn’t the physical and mental toll of losing sleep and missing meals and checking for ghosts every fucking second of the day – those things, those ‘unnatural’ things were second nature to her. It was undercover ABC. No, the hard part was having to distance herself from her friends. She had been deliberately short with them; deliberately obtuse; vague. She wanted them to push her away and that was so fucking selfish of her… but she had to make it that way. Because she was too chickenshit to pull away herself. She wasn’t strong enough to walk away on her own.
Because if she was honest with herself, the thought of being alone while Ian was out there scared her shitless.
She pulled into her parking spot at Quantico. Checked the mirrors. Checked the shadows. Checked again. Took out her phone – nothing. Checked the mirrors and shadows once more. Took the safety catch off her glock and stepped out into the parking lot.
By the time she walked through the BAU’s sliding doors, the mask was on. A false smile for Spencer; a slap to Derek’s shoulder. Sher saw Derek eyeing her. He was wise enough to say nothing.
“Your, uh, your safety’s off.” Spencer noted.
Shit. She’d forgotten to secure it in the elevator. She rectified it. “Thanks.”
He opened his mouth to say more, but she walked away.
She thought she could hear Spencer telling Morgan that she had looked tired, and she forced herself not to spit back some short reply.
“Em – you okay?”
Emily winced at JJ’s soft voice.
“Yeah. I’m good.” she replied without thinking, avoiding those probing blue eyes. She knew that today would be another tough one – another day of the team trying to get to the bottom of the murders of those former undercover agents. And with each day, they inevitably got closer to Ian’s name. And then it would only take them a hot minute to find out about her own connection to him; her former job. And what she did to accomplish it.
She fought the bile back down and sat herself at her desk, burying her nose in a file as her fingers, hidden under the table, checked her phone once more. There was a message from Tsia.
Emily nearly leaped from her seat, barely catching herself, before walking as fast as she could, while still trying to look casual, to the bathroom.
“Tsia?” she said anxiously as the call connected. “What’s happened?”
“Are you alone?”
“Of course.” Emily paused. “Are you safe?”
Tsia exhaled. “That’s a loaded question, Em.”
“Yeah.”
“I…I think I saw him.”
Emily’s fingers gripped the phone more tightly. “When?”
“Last night, but…” She sighed again. “But I think I’m just being paranoid, y’know.”
Emily bit her lip. “It isn’t paranoid to be careful.”
“Are you being careful?”
“You know I am.” Emily nodded.
Tsia huffed a laugh. “You always were. I used to watch you, y’know, just… just watch you slip in and out of character. I always envied you.”
“Why?” she scoffed.
“You were never afraid.” Tsia said simply.
Emily laughed dryly.
Tsia was silent for a beat. “He’s coming, isn’t he? He killed Jeremy and… those people.”
“Yeah.”
“How long before it’s our own crime scene Emily?”
Emily closed her eyes. “I won’t let that happen, Tsia.”
It was Tsia’s turn to laugh. “How are you going to stop him Em? We don’t even know where he is!”
“He wants me.” Emily told her. “I’m going to give him what he wants. I’m going to get to him before he makes a move on you.”
Tsia absorbed that information. “What can I do to help?”
Emily smiled. “What you can do is get yourself out of here. I know a guy who can fix you up with a passport. I’ll text you his address okay. You get out as soon as you can.”
“No, Emily. I want to help you. We’re a team.”
Emily blinked her fresh tears away. “You want to help me – then get out. Get safe. That’s all I need you to do: be safe.”
Tsia’s voice was thick. “He’ll kill you, Emily.”
“He’ll try.” Emily agreed. “Just, please, do this for me. Stay safe.”
“I love you, Emily.”
Emily nodded to the bathroom stalls. “I know. I love you too, Tsia. I’ll text you that address, okay, and… when this is over… I’ll call you. ‘kay?”
“ ‘kay. Good luck.”
“You too.” Emily hung up the call and sighed. “You too.”