Disclaimer: I own nothing, everything belongs to their rightful owners.
AN: 6x17/6x18 Aftermath / kind of dark maybe, depends on the reader
Under Crimson Skies
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"Hello, Lauren."
Ian's hand against her back makes her flinch and it takes all her self control to not push him away from her.
"Oh wait, Lauren Reynolds died in a car accident, didn't she?"
"What do you want?" Emily asks.
"You," Ian tells her settling down on the chair across from her. "Oh, not today," he adds with a smug smile when he gets a look at her face. "Don't worry about that. But soon."
"I've got a Glock leveled at your crotch. What's to stop me from taking you and the little ones out, right now?"
Ian shrugs. His eyes cold.
"You'd never make it back to your car, and you know it. Tell me, does the lovely Penelope know the truth about you? Or is she too busy watching movies with Derek to care? Here you are, all alone, while Aaron sits at home with his son. And why didn't Dave and Ashley invite you to their game night? Maybe they thought you'd be on the Metro with Dr. Reid."
Ian laughs to himself. "Well, that one does have some quirks."
"Come near my team and I will end you," Emily spits without thinking. Removing the safety of her gun under the table, even though she knows she won't pull the trigger. Not now. Not there.
Ian shakes his head. Slowly. "I don't have a quarrel with them," he tells her. "How long that remains the case depends entirely on you. They're innocent, you're not."
"I was doing my job."
"I think you did a little more than that," Ian bends over, leaves a piece of paper on the table between them. "You took the only thing that mattered to me, so I'm going to take the only thing that matters to you: your life."
Silently Emily watches as he gets to his feet again. Offering her one last look.
"Honore de Balzac once said, 'Most people of action are inclined to fatalism and most of thought believe in providence.' Tell me, Emily Prentiss, which do you think you are gonna be?"
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It's Tsia's death, that pushes Emily over the edge. Tsia's dead body, carelessly left behind in a dark hallway, that makes her flip the switch.
She's not Emily Prentiss any longer and she's never been Lauren Reynolds to begin with.
She looks down at her dead friend. Her dark eyes finding Tsia's frozen ones and just then and there she knows she's going to end this once and for all.
Just like she should have done years ago.
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Emily finds Fahey exactly where she thought she would and just as drunk. Sitting at the bar of the Irish Pub in Boston where she met him eight years ago.
She waits for him in the backseat of his car, greets him with her gun at the back of his head when he slips on the driver's seat.
"Talk," she orders meeting his gaze in the rearview mirror. He looks scared, yet not surprised.
It's enough to confirm her suspicions.
She puts a bullet through his skull ten minutes later. Satisfied with what he told her.
Poor bastard. He never even saw it coming.
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Ian's men are next. Ten in number. An easy task.
She's hiding in the shadows, watching from across the street as they walk into the warehouse. Ian and Liam at the back, just like she knew they would.
Emily closes her eyes. Starts to count.
Three, Two,...
There's a smile on her face, her dark eyes flashing open just in time to watch the building blow up. Windows shatter, fire explodes into the dark night sky.
It's what they deserve.
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She leaves her hiding place with her gun raised. Spots the two men on the pavement in front of what had been the entrance. Bloody and broken, but still alive.
Just as she predicted.
To her left is Liam, trying to piece together what just happened. His eyes wide with shock. Startled when his gaze meets hers.
You didn't see that one coming, huh?
She takes him out with a single shot to his forehead.
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Ian is to her right, his eyes pressed shut. Coughing and bleeding.
Emily acts fast. She takes his gun out of his jacket, slips it in into the waistband of her pants before she grabs him by the collar of his shirt and hauls him up to his feet. "Hello, love," she hums sweetly.
She watches him stagger as she pushes him ruthlessly against the iron gate. Watches as he tries to steady himself. When he turns around to face her, she has her gun leveled to his forehead.
Ian laughs, his hand wiping away the blood from his face. And she briefly wonders how he manages to look so smug.
"Tu es pleine de surprises dis donc?" he starts, clearly amused. He leans back against the gate and Emily hears him draw a shuddering breath. Knows he's already drowning in his blood.
She feels a small smile curve at the corners of her mouth, while she thinks about the night they met first. About the boy she keeps hidden someplace safe. The boy he thinks has died because of her.
She thinks about Tsia, about Sean and about all the families Ian tore apart. She even thinks about Jeremy who in the end sold them out for his own interests.
She thinks about Hotch and Rossi, about JJ and Morgan, about Garcia and Reid and even Ashley.
And she thinks about Clyde. About being able to go back home again.
"Si tu savais," she whispers. Her eyes burning with rage and victory as she pulls the trigger one last time.
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With the gun still in her hand, Emily stares down at Ian's dead body and she has to resist the urge to bend down and close his eyes.
He looks calm. Finally at peace with himself. And Emily wonders if she did him a favor.
She turns her head slowly, looks back to the warehouse. She should feel something, Emily knows.
Quietly she watches as the flames flare up higher into the sky, thinking that by sunrise there will be nothing left but ashes.
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The compound is surrounded shortly after.
Firefighters, local PD officers and FBI agents all over the place.
It's Morgan who spots her. He makes two steps in her direction before he stops. The expression on his face almost comical and Emily wonders what he expected to find.
Her dead body? A damsel in distress?
Emily has to bite her lip to keep from laughing.
She pushes her gun in his hands as she walks past heading for the black SUV on the street.
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She's sitting in an interrogation room, staring at her own flawless face in the mirror and right through at whoever is watching.
And she sees what they see. SSA Emily Prentiss- all calm and pristine, not a single hair out of place.
No, she's not a victim.
She never was.
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They send Morgan first.
It only takes a minutes before he starts to yell. Emily just stares back at him, doesn't even flinch. She knows he's furious. Furious with himself.
She would feel the same way.
"So what? You're just going to sit there and pretend it was self defense?" Morgan grabs the edge of the table and Emily wonders what makes him more angry. That she killed a bunch of terrorists or that she slept with the enemy to get the job done.
Judging by the way he looks at her, it's the latter.
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JJ comes in next. Worry written all over her face.
"Tell me what happened," she starts. "I'm sure there is an explanation for everything."
Emily smiles politely back at the blonde. Wishes she could ask her what she's really doing since she left the BAU. The others probably can't see it, but Emily does. Knows that JJ isn't working a desk job five days a week.
If she had to guess, Emily would say she comes straight from hell.
The haunted look in her eyes clearly gives her away.
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Rossi and Reid are next. Playing good cop, bad cop.
Rossi looks tired and Emily wonders if this might be the last case he works. If he's going to leave the BAU after that. Spend his free time with his dog at the lake writing a new bestseller.
Maybe he should.
"Emily, please look at me."
She turns her head. Meets Reid's hazel eyes. He looks like he's about to cry and it's enough to convince Emily that she did the right thing.
It had always been her fight, never theirs. Now they were safe.
At least from the nightmares of her past.
She just wishes she could tell them how sorry she is.
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Hotch is the last one. He sits down across from her. His dark eyes searching hers.
"I turned the recording off. This is just between you and me. Tell me what really happened."
Emily leans back in her chair, watches her own calm expression in the mirror. Holding his gaze steady.
"There's not a single scratch on you, " Hotch tells her. His voice firm. "You were ahead of Doyle the whole time, weren't you?"
Emily smiles. A part of her feeling the need to congratulate him for figuring it out.
"Easter's departure to the airport was to stall us," Hotch adds. His face as stoic as ever, but the turmoil in his eyes gives him away.
"You never needed saving," he tells her bluntly. His voice heavy with disappointment and something else.
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It's just then that the door to the interrogation room flies open.
"That's enough, Agent Hotchner," Erin Strauss announces sharply.
Hotch doesn't flinch. He doesn't even look surprised.
"Agent Prentiss, you're free to go," he says and Emily watches him close his eyes in defeat.
"That's it? We just let her go?" Morgan comes rushing in. "She went on a killing spree, blew up a warehouse and we just let her walk-"
"Agent Prentiss did no such thing," Strauss cuts him off. Her voice leaving no place to argue. "This case is none of your concern anymore. And neither is Agent Prentiss."
It gets silent.
Morgan stares and Emily can see the moment when he realizes what Strauss just told him. He walks away without looking back.
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Emily gets to her feet in one graceful movement, looks back at her own face in the mirror and at the people she knows are watching from behind.
Strauss is still standing in the doorway when Emily walks out, an unreadable expression on her face and Emily wonders if she ever knew what she'd gotten herself into.
Clyde's already waiting for her when Emily steps out onto the dark hallway. He leans with his back against the wall, wearing the same jacket and scarf he had the day before. Achingly familiar.
"Let's go, darling," he tells her softly. His hand protectively against the small of her back as he leads her down the hall.
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She sits next to Clyde on the Interpol jet. It's quiet, neither of them saying a word. Both of them staring off into the dark.
"Do you think they'll ever forgive me?" Emily whispers when she can't stand the silence any longer.
Clyde doesn't answer her right away, instead he's reaching over to take her hand.
Emily watches as he pulls something out of his jacket pocket, realizes it's her wedding band. He puts it on her finger, back where it belongs and Emily wonders if he carried it with him for the past few years.
"If they ever really loved you," he starts, bending over to push a strand of dark hair out of her face. "...they will. And if they didn't..." he meets her gaze, wrapping his hand around hers. "...than it's not even worth the time to think about it, darling."
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It's a warm evening in the middle of May. Emily and Clyde standing on the rooftop garden of their penthouse, London at their feet.
"It's nice to celebrate our wedding anniversary with you again," Clyde tells her, while he pulls her close against his chest. His arms strong and safe around her.
Emily nods. "It is," she says as she leans even closer into him. Allows his warmth to spread through her body.
It's been far too long.
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There's a smile on her face when she hears the first chords of her favorite song coming from the living room.
"Can I have this dance?" Clyde whispers in her ear and before she has the chance to answer he spins her around to face him.
He pulls her gently against his chest, one arm slung around her waist. Her hand in his as he starts swaying her to the music like he'd done a hundred times before.
It's just him and her. Just them all over again.
And while the setting sun turns the sky over London crimson, Emily thinks she's never felt more alive.
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Disclaimer: I own nothing, everything belongs to their rightful owners.
AN: Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read and/or review my stories, that really means the world to me! And of course a big thank you goes to the amazing clairebare for beta reading!