It had been one year since she'd been buried, and every day I think about her. How she made me smile, and feel welcome, even though I had replaced one of her best friends. Every time I close my eyes I see her dying in front of me, the table leg sticking out of her stomach. Then I see Morgan leaning over her, whispering to her and crying. Never had I seen the team look as distraught as when I saw them in the waiting room in the hospital. When agent Jareau walked out she was crying, her eyes red, as she told us that Emily was dead.
When I graduated from the academy I couldn't stay with the team, it was too painful knowing I hadn't had her back, and how she fought to protect us. To hard knowing I had failed.
But I thought I owed it to Emily to visit her; that's why I was walking up the path to the place we buried her. I couldn't get her face out my head. That's why when I was expecting her gravestone and her team; I was surprised when I saw nothing. No flowers, no team, and no gravestone; the plot was empty. I stared at it dumbfounded for a few minutes; had they moved it and not told me? I know I hadn't talked to them in a while but I figured they should have told me. I come back to focus when I hear someone talking to me.
"I'm sorry, what did you say?" I ask as I turn around surprised to find the grave master.
"I asked miss, if you were thinking of buying. You've staring at the plot for ten minutes."
"Oh, um no, sorry," the grave master shrugs and turns around to go down the hill.
"Hey wait, um, do you know what happened to the grave here?"
The man raised an eyebrow as he turned around, "The federal agent?"
I nod for him to continue, "Didn't you hear? It was a huge scandal, apparently she wasn't dead. The grave was a hoax and she came out of hiding a couple months ago. They had us take out the headstone."
Did he just say she wasn't dead? That can't be true. They would have told me. She would have called. Something… Would she have?
"Miss," the man taps my shoulder.
"Hmm, sorry, but I have to go." I say as I walk down the path, through the gate and to my car.
I sit in my car without starting, I think of the first case we were on together. I told them I was the daughter of a serial killer; they didn't judge me. I was happy with them as my team.
I start my car and without really thinking, I head in the direction of Quantico. What if she is there? What if she isn't? What am I going to say? These thoughts bubble through my head as I park in the underground lot. I walk into the lobby and flash my badge and credentials to security before heading over to the elevator. The elevator dings loudly and I jump; I'm getting nervous and when I get nervous I can be easily caught off guard. I get in and hit the button. The doors close and I'm so nervous, what's going to be waiting for me when I get off. The doors open and I check the number; it's not my floor, another agent gets in and hits ground floor. The elevator continues going up and this time when it dings it is my floor. I nod my head politely at the agent and get out, my hands sweating.
I walk into the bull pen and stop short, the hot prick of tears behind my eyes. The whole team is there, Hotch, with his normal grimace, Garcia her face completely lit up, Rossi his eyes filled with kindness and laughter. Spencer seems to be spewing off some type of fact, and then there's Morgan teasing him about it. I see agent Jareau who I had just happened to replace, and she is in their circle as well, laughing with them. Then my eyes fall upon the woman with dark shoulder length hair; her back is to the door and I can see the way her shoulders are tensed up, even though she is laughing as well.
Something catches my eyes and I look towards Rossi; his eyes meet mine and his smile falters. He says something to the group, his eyes never leaving mine. One by one they all turn to me; first agent Jareau, then Penelope, then Spencer, Morgan looks at me next, followed finally by Hotch. The only one who doesn't turn is the dark-haired woman.
"Ashley," Rossi calls to me, "What are you doing here?" I don't answer; I don't think I could if I wanted to.
I'm staring at the back of her head, I had watched as she visibly tensed when Rossi said who it was. Rossi walks over to me and turns me away from the team with a hand on my back. I crane my head trying to catch a glimpse of her face.
"Who is that Rossi?" I ask; a slight tremor in my voice.
"How much do you know Ashley, why'd you come here?" His voice is calming.
"Do you know what today is Rossi?"
He sighs and says, "Don't answer a question with a question Ashley."
"What day is it Rossi?"
"You know the answer Ashley." His voice is irritatingly calm.
"Yeah I do, do you!" I raise my voice.
He won't look me in the eyes as he answers, "It's the day she died."
"Yes the day she died. Do you know what I found when I visited her grave?" My voice has lowered considerably.
He gives in, "What did you find?"
"Nothing… I found nothing but an empty grave plot. Do you know why that is?"
"Ashley," he looks at me pleadingly.
"Don't Ashley me. Why didn't you guys tell me?" The hot prick behind my eyes is back, and I blink furiously to chase them away.
"Ashley, you have to understand; we didn't know till a few months ago."
"A couple months… In those months you could've picked up the phone; you could've called or even texted me." I'm so angry right now; I can feel the pressure building. "I have mourned her for a year. I cried every night when I got home, I couldn't sleep for months. Why didn't she turn around in there? Why turn and cower? Why?" I turn to face the wall and in a split second decision I pull a Derek. By that I mean I punched the wall; and it hurt! But it made me feel a little better.
"Ashley!" Rossi rushes forward towards me but I back up.
"What?" I ask him, what is his problem?
"Your hand," he looks scared as he glanced at the fury in my eyes then down at my hand. I follow his gaze down to my hand; it is bloody with a split over my middle knuckle. I'm shocked, as I look at my hand but I'm more horrified at myself. I let my anger get the best of me and though it felt good, it scares me. I physically released my anger just like my father did while killing; I don't want to turn out like him.
"Ow," is all I can say as I glance back up at him.
"Ashley, let me bandage that for you." Rossi pleads as he steps closer again.
"No, tell me why," I clutch my bloody hand to my chest as I look at him fiercely.
"Look kiddo, lets bandage that up and we'll explain." He tries to reason with me. I hear his lie though in the way he doesn't look me in the eye and the way his voice lowers at we'll explain.
"God Rossi, why didn't you tell me?" I yell this at him, drawing the attention of a few agents nearby.
"Ashley," my head whips around at my name. It's her. She's standing there in the door with her dark hair around her shoulders and her face as pale as ever. Her dark eyes are staring at me with guilt and concern.
My mind blanks and I don't know what to say anymore; I jump as I feel a hand on my shoulder, it's Rossi.
"Let's go talk about it." He says, as he leads me through the door Emily had disappeared into. I follow him numbly the fight going out of me.
We walk into the round room and everyone is there; Hotch is sitting straight in his chair, Morgan lounging in his with Garcia beside him. Spencer is fiddling around with the strap on his bag, and Agent Jareau is standing beside Garcia, a hand on the back of an empty chair. Emily is beside agent Jareau and I nearly break down right there finally getting a real look at her.
She looks tired with bags under her eyes, though concealed hurriedly with concealer. Her arms are crossed in front of her and her shoulders are tensed; her face is a mask of guilt as she picks at a nail.
"Ashley..." She tries to start but it falls short at my glare.
"Like I told Rossi, don't Ashley me; you've been alive this whole time?" I ask furiously.
She nods her head and goes back to picking her nails, guilt playing on her features. I look at her hard for a few minutes, taking in her tall thin figure; too thin if you ask me. I see once again the tightness on her shoulders and the way her eyes won't stay focused on one place to long. Then I look around the room; everyone is quiet their gazes full of concern when they glance at Emily.
I sigh, my voice soft as I speak, "Emily…"
This time she's the one to stop me, "I understand if you don't forgive me Ashley, but I'm the one you should be mad at. Not Rossi, or Hotch, or anyone else on the team. I should have called you and let you know." I can see the pain in her eyes as if she'd had to explain this before, and as I looked around the room I realize she had; except they found out together and they still probably didn't make such a fuss as I had.
"Emily, I understand why you went into hiding, and I realize it must have been hard on you too. But…but Why didn't you tell me after you came back. Why was I the one left out of the loop? Why did I have to wait a year to find out? The only reason I did find out was because I went to your grave, that wasn't even there!"
"You visited my grave?" her voice is questioning and full of something I can't quite put my finger on; happiness? It could be amazement? It doesn't matter though.
"Of course I did. I didn't know you as long as everyone else but you were my teammate and I considered you a friend. I thought I had failed you Emily; for a year I couldn't sleep because when I closed my eyes I saw you dying, again and again. There was no bringing you back." I go quiet as everyone in the room thinks about what I said.
"I'm sorry Ashley, but I can't take back what I did. What would you have me do; I can't go back in time." Emily's eyes are fiery as she delivers the statement.
"I know you can't take it back but I want to talk to you," I look pointedly at the others in the room. "Alone."
Hotch nods his head when I look at him, "You have five minutes agent Seaver, then we have a case to work on." He leaves the room and the others follow; Rossi gives my arm a squeeze as he passes and I offer him a small smile.
"Have a seat Emily," I say as I take a seat and motion to the chair across from me. She looks suspicious and glances at the door before taking a seat.
We stare at each other for a couple seconds before she admits defeat and sighs, "What do you want to know Ashley?" She sounds broken and the way she can't meet my gaze or the way she actually admitted defeat worries me; she never used to do that, she'd be the one to stare you down till you were uncomfortable.
"How are you doing?" I ask honestly.
She looks at me incredulously, "I lied to you and you're asking how I am?"
"Yes I am. I lost one teammate, one friend; you lost so many more. And when you revealed yourself alive, I bet you were met with many things. They were shocked but happy to see you; they were conflicted with themselves and you, they didn't know what to trust or believe. How much of the truth had you told them? Things weren't as easy as they used to be; you had to try and fit in a second time but this time was harder. They already knew you, so how could they go back on that. I bet it was hard on everyone; Morgan guilt riddled about being the last one with you, if only he had got there sooner. Penelope, refusing to admit you was gone. Hotch, knowing it was his job to protect his team and he had failed. Rossi, taking it in silence and helping everyone else grieve; confused about how he loved this team more than anything else. Spencer, crying over his guilt but also because he thought he had failed you. And I bet agent Jareau took it hard to, she knew the truth but she really did lose a friend. Then there's me, and now I understand."
We both lapse into silence as she contemplates what I say, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She tries to brush off the fact of wiping her eyes by brushing her hair out of her face.
"I'm sorry Ashley." She says quietly.
"I'm the one that's sorry Emily. I missed you but I can see it's taking a toll on you. You look to thin, you are tense even when your supposedly happy. Have you been eating? Are you sleeping at night?"
"The only good thing is that I'm back here where I need to be Ashley and that you forgive me."
"You're avoiding my question Emily." I state simply.
She sighs, "Okay, I have been eating and sleeping. I'm fine, I've just been really tired lately and with all these cases it doesn't promote much sleep. But I'm getting the same amount as everyone else."
"Well one day we have to go out for lunch or something. Spend some time to catch up."
"Yes, definitely, I would appreciate that." Emily gives an honest nod of her head, glad to be given the opportunity of forgiveness.
"So would I," I say quietly back.
We spend a couple seconds taking each other in before both she and I have to leave. I notice how her shoulders have relaxed a bit and the way she's straightened in her chair, not sure how to proceed.
"Prentiss, time's up. We have to be on the plane in thirty minutes." Hotch says from the door. We both nod and he disappears just as quickly and quietly as he arrived.
Emily gets up to leave but pauses when I say her name, "it was good to see you."
"You too Ashley," She replies before she is out the door and down the hall.
I get up and walk to the window, where I watch her walk down the stairs and into the bullpen; she is greeted with a one-armed hug from Morgan, and a gentle arm squeeze from Agent Jareau. She smiles at them and glances back up to me, I wave to her and watch as she waves back then starts to head to the elevator.
I watch as she gets in the elevator with the others, our eyes meet one last time before the doors close.
"Goodbye Emily," I whisper to the empty room, "goodbye."