Hardfaced Queen of Misadventure

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: I recommend you to listen to Birdy's cover of "People Help the People", originally performed by Cherry Ghost. It inspired this story and sets the mood fairly well. I would really like to hear this song in an episode of CM. It's a really good cover. You should check out her covers.

A/N 2: Sort of AU. Not taking the Doyle-arc into consideration.

I'd be cold as a stone and rich as the fool who turned all those good hearts away.

–

She ignored the curious stares of the few remaining police officers at the precinct as she stormed past their work stations and out through the double doors. Thankfully enough, it was almost 11 p.m and most desks were cleared. In the hallway outside, the echo of her heels against the floor only emphasized its emptiness, the complete opposite of the chaos whirling inside her head. She hated this feeling and it was all too familiar. Feeling too much at the same time, making her body feel two sizes too small.

Way to go, Emily. Although, hearing her own voice inside her head, accuse her didn't calm the emotional turmoil. Finally, she reached the front doors, dramatically forcing them apart with a hard push of her hands. The air outside was dense, barely moving. The thunderstorm had lurked around the corner all week, making it literally hard to breathe. Taking a few calming breaths, she sat down on the concrete steps, staring out at the empty street.

It didn't take long before she heard the doors open behind her. She didn't have to turn and look. She knew he would follow her. The past months had taught her that. Without another word, he slowly sunk down on the step above hers, allowing her the space if she wanted it. Another thing that made him so great. After a few minutes of silence her thoughts and breath were calm enough to speak in coherent sentences. Not just swearing and groans of frustration.

"I hate when they make sense," she whispered. "They shouldn't. She killed four people. And I hate when their reasons make sense."

He didn't answer, knowing there would be more she needed to get out before she'd want his input.

"She got to me and I can't say that she was wrong. She figured me out just like it's my job to figure them out... And she was right, Derek. She was right."

–

30 minutes earlier

The relief of finding the unsub combined with the feeling of "how could she have done this" was never pleasant. Emily knew this feeling, it had happened before and since then she'd developed a defense mechanism for it. It helped, but only a little. The woman before didn't at all look like many of the arrests they'd made over the years. No cold eyes lacking empathy and remorse. No vicious sneers, no derisive comments. Nothing about her screamed "psycho serial killer". But she was. The small woman across from her had shot four people in cold blood.

Emily watched as the woman sobbed, the cuffs on her wrists looking like weights all to big for her tiny frame. Stay focused. After all, compartmentalizing had always been her thing. If Emily'd have her way, she would be out of here now but they still needed a statement.

"I had no choice!"

It was the millionth time that particular phrase was uttered in the tiny interrogation room. Emily had no idea how long they'd been in there. Could be minutes, could be hours. Interrogation rooms were like that; another world, another universe with a completely different perspective of time. As if time stood still.

She intently studied the woman before her. Jenny Kendall was 43 years old with a spotless criminal record. Up until three weeks ago. She had shot four people. To protect her husband, her children. Her life as she knew it. In many ways, she'd been at the wrong place at the wrong time. It wasn't her fault that her husband had decided on foul play, ripping people off, essentially taking their money and being clumsy enough to leave evidence behind. Evidence that would most certainly send him to prison and make Jenny see no other option than purchasing a gun and eliminate the threats.

"I had no choice... It would have destroyed everything..." Suddenly, she looked up, her eyes staring straight into Emily's. Suddenly all the tears were gone. The devastation, desperation and helplessness wiped away and she sat a little bit straighter in her chair.

"Mrs Kendall, I understand if..."

"No. You don't." Jenny Kendall's voice all of a suddenly turned steady and confident. Forceful. "You have no idea."

"Excuse me?"

"You don't have a family, do you?"

Something with that particular choice of words caught Emily off her game. She'd gotten that question before, regarding both marital and parental status. And it was never any problem to tell the truth. Again, compartmentalizing. Fighting it off before it even began. But something in Jenny's tone of voice made her startled. Hesitating if only for a second which allowed Jenny to continue.

"I had to protect my family. Dan is the love of my life. I don't care what he's done, he loves me and our kids. I had to protect that. People like you just don't understand. You look at us, think we're crazy. That we can't feel for others, only ourselves."

People like you... Was she right? Was there simply some things one could never understand without experiencing it? Loving unconditionally despite knowing what that person had done? The innate desire to protect your children no matter what? Emily visibly shook her head at herself. This woman was crazy. One could protect their family without killing people. There was a line. Factors that separated the killers from overprotective parents.

"Mrs Kendall...I..." Once again she's interrupted by the seemingly transformed woman before her.

"I have nothing else to say. I don't regret what I did. Yes, we will both pay for what we did but I wouldn't change a thing. Our kids will know we did these things to protect them. Just because you don't, doesn't mean it's wrong. Who knows? If you were in my shoes, you'd probably do the same thing."

Jenny Kendall gave her a stare that clearly told her they were done. They'd leave the rest to the attorneys.

Her words were left hanging in the air as Emily abruptly stood, signaling through the one-way mirror that they were done. As she turned the handle mrs Kendall spoke up again, voice somber but clear, not like through her incoherent sobbing only minutes before.

"Nothing makes you more convinced that you're doing the right thing, than doing it to protect the ones you love. I hope for your sake that you'll get it one day."

Emily's eyes widened slightly at that last statement. Then she exited the interrogation room, mrs Kendall's words ringing in her ears and feeling both Reid and Morgan's curious looks boring into her back as she left the observation room, the door shaking on its hinges.

–

Presently...

And as she had expected, Morgan would gather his wits in seconds and then rush after her. She wondered if he'd heard the whole exchange. They sat quietly for another moment after Emily's confession of Jenny Kendall's explanation having some sense in it, no matter how twisted that sounded. Sitting one step above her, he took in her slumped shoulders and her hands wringing in her lap.

"Well, maybe she was. Right, I mean." At this unexpected statement, she hastily turned around to face him.

"It doesn't justify anything. She killed four people! And here I am, almost considering her explanation valid. I can get that, the need to protect people. Come on, it's what I do for a living!" she raised her voice slightly, being frustrated with herself for not being able to put this behind her. It's just a stupid comment.

"It's not about that, Emily, is it?" Damn him for always seeing past all her solid arguments, her defense. Every single stupid wall she's ever built around herself for protecting herself from moments like this.

"What are you talking about?"

"Emily..."

She sighed. It wasn't hard to give up when Derek Morgan got all patient and supportive. It always struck her, how someone so impulsive, intimidating and rough on the field could be just as tender and patient with her.

"What she said about family... She was right. I don't have a family as such, like she has... But I have people I care about. Deeply. I have you guys. Who knows? If something was threatening your safety, the well-being of the team, all of us...who knows I wouldn't take the same drastic measures to protect that?"

"Emily, she shot four innocent people."

"I've killed more people than she has. Far more! With the excuse of protecting others or myself."

"It's not the same thing!"

"No, maybe not in detail. But if you look at the big picture...it is. I've shot people waving their guns at you guys. Without blinking. And I never regret pulling the trigger. She doesn't regret what she did, protecting everything she lives for. I have done the same, just like her..."

"Maybe that's true," he started. She tilted her head, looking at him intently, knowing there was more to this. "You're right. Roughly speaking, it's about perspective. Maybe the fact that they were innocent people and these UnSubs we chase are murderers, rapists shouldn't make a difference. A life is a life."

She gave him the "see my point"- look. But then he continued. "But nothing is ever objective. Not even we can be objective all the time. If we were, you wouldn't even draw these parallels between her motives and yours."

"We're just like them..."

"And still we're not. Her husband told lies, abused the trust of his clients and destroyed people's lives. He had to pay for that. And yes, his family would suffer for his decisions and it makes them victims. But the people she killed, what about their families...They're the victims too. Both parties always suffer, they all have something to lose. Or fight for, however you want to look at it."

He paused, watching her face shift slightly as his words registered. He understood her argument, he really did. He'd asked himself the same question and always ending up frustrated at the lack of proper answers. It was never right to take someone else's life, no matter the reason. No matter if it was out of love or hatred. But circumstances and what actions you carried on your conscience made a difference, made it less wrong but never right.

They both allowed themselves to disappear into their own thoughts for a moment. After a long silence, Emily spoke up in a low voice.

"Do you think I'll understand her motives one day? You know...with family and all..."

He looked at her thoughtfully. "What do you mean?"

"Maybe you do things for a different reason if you love someone unconditionally, no matter what... I just wonder sometimes...if this job makes us destined to miss out on all that."

"Hey...Look at Hotch. Look at JJ. Hell, even look at Garcia. They have to work hard for it, yes. But I think it's worth it. I like to think that...maybe one day I'll get to see it that way, too."

She nodded slowly. She'd never pegged him as a family man before. Just as she'd never envisioned a husband and kids in her own future either. But looking at him then, with nothing but sympathy and friendship shining in his eyes, and his words still weighing heavily in the air, it didn't seem so impossible anymore. And she sincerely hoped that whatever he wanted, he'd have someday. Just like she found herself more and more often wondering what it would be like to have what, for example JJ had. Yes, more to fight for, having much more than your own life at stake but also more to live for. To be grateful and happy for.

"But is it so obvious?" Suddenly the conversation shifted and Emily realized that unintentionally, her insecurities had become center of attention. "I know I push people away. Sometimes...I don't even give them a chance, you know... And I always blame the job. Thinking that no one would never understand anyway, " she trailed off.

Morgan nodded at her words. Her reasoning wasn't far off from his own. He wasn't the one to sit around, feeling lonely and sorry for himself. But whenever his social life was questioned he usually resorted to the old "job taking too much time right now"-excuse. Maybe it was the truth, maybe it wasn't. Sounded better than "now's just not the time" or worse, that he simply wasn't ready.

"There's a reason for everything, Princess, " he concluded instead of voicing his own side of the story. This case and this evening in particular had already been rather heavy. "Come on. Lets get back to the hotel. Long flight tomorrow."

"Hey, Derek..." Emily broke the silence as they dusted off their pants and walked down the stairs.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

He smiled. She'd seen that smile before and it always amazed her how it could always make the heaviness in her heart feel a bit lighter and easier to deal with.

"Always, " came his standard response, being a habit just as much as a renewal of the promise he made her years ago and many times since. And walking down the empty street towards the car, Morgan's arm casually slung over her shoulders, the hardships of the evening were already fading in the distance.

–

Thank you for reading. I'd love some feedback!