Where's the 'Good' in Goodbye

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas

This is writing for the Mix and Match challenge on CCOAC. My pair is Reid/Prentiss, with the prompts rain, blankets, camera and tissues. I only had to use three but think I have got them all in. I did want to try and post this before the new series began - but time was not on my side.

. . .

The large drops pelted down, bouncing and splashing off every available surface as the thunder rumbled deeply in the background. The storm that had threatened all day had finally broken, and the parking lot was now awash with interlinking puddles as appose to the heated tarmac it had been when they had returned this afternoon. The dark night sky was making the perfect backdrop for the dramatic weather change.

The sudden fork of lightening streaked across the sky, pointing an accusing finger at the shadowy figure. Everyone else had scattered and searched out cover from the torrential rain. However one solitary figure had sought out what everyone else was avoiding. Standing alone in the pouring rain!

Leaning back against the black SUV, Emily took a deep breath, letting the heavy rain wash over her. She was soaked through to the skin within minutes of standing, watching the deserted streets ahead, but somehow the stinging sensation of the water hitting against her face was a relief. She deserved the pain for the shame she had brought to the team.

Praying it would wash away the torrent of images that were haunting her, knowing that it would be a while until they were truly gone. This was not how she had wanted it to end; she had wanted to leave on a high, she wanted them to be able to look back and remember this moment with pride.

Emily had planned to leave with her head held high, not under a black cloud that could rival the current storm she was standing in. But she had done it! The one time in her career she had lost her cool. She hadn't packaged it up and dealt with it later, no, today she had dealt with it head on. Bam!

Closing her eyes she recalled the scene yet again, trying to figure out what had made her act this way.

. . .

It was barely dawn, the soft light of the rising sun promising the welcoming of another beautiful day. Pulling alongside the normal looking house, Emily was yet again hit by how a monster like this could camouflage themselves in a community. Even the local police had nothing but good to say about their suspect, pillar of the community and all. Yet they knew he was capable of unimaginable things. They had seen the victims he had disposed of without any sign of remorse.

Silently approaching the house they had their weapons drawn, but pointing towards the ground, Morgan, Rossi and JJ were out of sight as they headed towards the rear of the house. Emily was with Reid and Hotch at the front door. Their communication system was open, so they could hear each other and act in tandem. Over the earpiece Emily heard the duel splintering of wood as Morgan and Hotch dealt with the doors simultaneously.

The familiar shouts of warnings and' clear' rang out as the team begun to work their way systematically through the house; within minutes the immaculate ground floor was designated clear. Hotch assigned Rossi's team to searching the basement, while his own team begun to ascend the bare wood stairs. Anyone in the house would be aware of the team's presence by now; they had to work quickly if they were to save her, if they could still save her. Emily shook her head not wanting to consider the possibility of failure.

She could hear the curses of her colleagues as they entered the dark space below as she carefully followed Hotch's lead up the creaking staircase.

"God it stinks," JJ hissed as she followed Morgan and Rossi into the abyss.

Emily didn't want to consider what horrors her friends were about to uncover, what was the cause of the smell, instead she concentrated on her task. All the time listening to the commentary that played out several feet below.

Clearing the bathroom, then the first bedroom, Emily became aware of a scrapping sound over her earpiece.

"There's definitely something back there," Morgan growled, his voice edged with the strain he was feeling as it became obvious he was trying to move something.

"Be careful," Hotch warned, as he took his position one side of the next door along the landing. Emily shared a look with him before nudging the door open with her toes. As it swung wide their eyes swept the dimly lit room, immediately noticing the person hunched in the corner.

"FBI," Hotch and Emily had called in unison, as the figure slowly lifted his head, his dark eyes meeting theses as a sick smile graced his lips.

"Gary Williams, don't move," Hotch stepped in to the room, towards their suspect; Emily and Reid covering behind, checking for any unexpected surprises as they closed in on him.

"Hotch," Rossi's voice could be heard in everyone's ear, "We've got a concealed doorway, it's locked from this side, but we can hear someone. I think we've found her."

"Good. We've got Williams," Hotch had holstered his weapon as he prepared to cuff the suspect, who still hadn't moved, as Emily and Reid had kept their guns trained on him. Hotch made the man stand, twisting his arms behind his back to secure him as he read Williams his rights.

Emily watched the man, his dark, almost black eyes, boring into her as he allowed Hotch to do what was necessary. There was no fight, no resistance – yet somehow she felt he still had the upper hand. All the time she could hear the others through her earpiece and the struggle they were going through to get into hidden room. The bangs and the scraps as they fought the physical boundaries that kept them from little Beth-Rose, please let them find her safe.

Outside, once more, in harsh morning sun, Emily blinked rapidly, trying to let her eyes adjust. She was escorting Williams out to the SUV with Reid while Hotch had gone down to the basement to help Morgan and Rossi. She could still hear the battle they were facing to dislodge the heavy wooden door.

"That's it," she suddenly heard Rossi call. Unknowingly she held her breath, waiting to hear that they had found the little girl. Instead she heard the piercing scream. Emily's body tensed as she listened to JJ try and reassure the hysterical four year old.

"No . . . No . . . No . . ." came the sobs over the communications system. "Go away. No." Then she heard another scream so loud that Emily nearly tore out the receiver in her ear, before the muffled words, "I want my Mommy."

It was heart breaking to hear, but she could only image what it must be like for her friends in there.

"Shh, Honey," came the deep tones of Derek Morgan, "We're police, we're here to help. I want to take you home to your Mommy."

"I . . . want . . . my . . . Mommy," the soft sobs could barely be heard.

"I know you do, Sweetie," JJ spoke softly.

"Beth, I'm going to come over and untie you," Derek spoke again. "Then I want to pick you up and take you out of here. Is that okay?"

There was no reply, but Emily heard them moving. She shut her eyes briefly, sending a silent prayer.

"There's a good girl," Emily heard Derek's soothing tones. It always amazed her how Derek could switch from the rough tough FBI agent to the most soothing and gentle giant in seconds.

"Reid, is the EMT there? We're bringing her out," Hotch questioned.

"They're here," Reid replied.

Within minutes Emily saw Hotch lead her colleagues out of the house, Morgan cradling a bundle of dirty blankets. Inside she knew was Beth-Rose. The pair headed straight towards the awaiting ambulance, JJ following behind as Rossi headed towards Emily and Reid.

Dave had obviously read her expression as he shook his head softly, "She's not good, the conditions down there were awful. She's cold, hungry and dehydrated." His gaze drifted off past Emily as he fought to maintain his composure, which let Emily know how bad things had been in there. "Her little body was black and blue and the blood . . . She's scared of her own shadow. All we can do now for her is pray."

"Ha, and you think that is going to help?" Emily spun to face Gary Williams sat on the edge of the SUV backseat, as he spoke a nasty snarl crossed his face. "You really think you have saved her? After what I have done, she would have been better off dead, should have left it another hour or two and let me finish her. Think she'll appreciate what you have done in years to come? Think she'll ever live a normal life? She's mine now and forever."

And that was when it happened. Emily didn't know why his words affected her more than any of the others she had faced over the years. What made her snap today as appose to any other day? Before it registered what she was doing her fist had connected square on with his nose, the blood pouring out as the force broke the bridge.

She felt Rossi's hand on her shoulder pulling her back as she had readied her fist for another attack. She had heard the hiss of breath from Reid standing beside her, rapidly followed by Hotch barking at her to stop from somewhere behind her. Lastly she had remembered the flash of the camera, capturing the moment for the local, and soon to be, national media.

Shit!

. . .

Emily shuddered, not sure if it was from the memory or from being stood in the middle of a thunder storm.

How could she be so stupid, after all these years to let him get to her like that? To finish her time with the BAU with a large black mark against her name was more than a disappointment. Even now she could picture her mother's expression as she opened the paper to the image. She knew that Strauss was furious, as she had heard Hotch trying to placate her earlier, and to think it was less then twelve months since she was being commentated for her bravery. Now she was to be shot down in flames for doing what every right minded person wanted to do to the sick bastard who thought it was perfectly normal to rape and torture pre-school girls.

"Don't you think you should come back inside?"

Emily turned to face the voice she recognised, surprised as she had thought she was alone. It was hard to tell how long Dr Reid had been outside, but he looked as wet as she was. Though she doubted it would take long as the rain was unrelenting.

"What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," he replied as he walked towards her, hands shoved firmly in his pockets, his fringe dripping in to his eyes as he blinked.

"Well you found me, so why don't you go back inside before you catch a cold or something."

"Actually I'm more likely to suffer from hypothermia, as colds are contagious viral diseases, which means that the germs need to be passed from person to person. Whereas hypothermia can set in at relatively cool temperatures are combined with the chilling effects of getting wet."

Emily had to smile; if there was one thing she was going to miss about Dr Spencer Reid it was the sudden little outbursts of facts that littered their conversations.

"So, are you coming inside? Or do you want us to continue out here in the rain?" he asked.

Emily's eyes narrowed. She had known Spencer a long time; they had become close friends and had gone through a lot together. From drug abuse in the days he didn't trust her, to facing Cyrus together, through abandoning him to save him from the wrath of Doyle and finally earning his trust back upon her return. In all those years he had grown, changed.

Many of the team continued to 'baby' him, as he saw it. She definitely knew they didn't always give him the credit he deserved. However Emily had been quick to learn there was more to him than met the eye. Maybe it had been her desperation to fit in, her need to seek her colleagues approval, that had meant she had made the additional effort to get to know each of the team. Whatever it was, it meant she considered Reid her equal, he may be younger but he had a wealth of experience balanced with immense knowledge. That was something she respected.

Emily sighed; she knew how stubborn Spencer could be. He may not appear to be the most forceful of the team, but he had a way with words that you couldn't argue with.

She nodded, a solitary tear mixing with the rain drops as it trickled down her face.

Reid pulled a tissue out of his pocket, realising it was a futile gesture as the paper practically disintegrated in front of them. "Sorry," he shrugged.

Emily giggled. She would also miss his unintentional goofy ways. Trust him to lift her mood. Pausing before him, Emily looked him in the eye for the first time that evening; "I let the team down."

Reid shook his head. "You did what most of us wanted to do. Rossi hasn't stopped telling Morgan, with some pride, what happened. Although I don't condone your actions, I understand them. And the bonus for you is that Strauss can't discipline you. Even she can't produce the paperwork for a formal procedure before you finish."

"But I . . ."

Uncharacteristically he took a step closer, considering offering a hug, invading another's personal space was not his forte.

Emily sensed his hesitation and rested an arm on his shoulder, squeezing to show her appreciation.

"I just wanted a perfect ending, to walk away with our heads held high. Not the sort of media hype that even JJ couldn't extinguish."

"Emily, haven't you learnt there is no such thing as fairy tale endings? And do you really think that the last case we work with you is going to be the lasting memory? It's going to be late night chess games, star puzzles, special showings of European films, Christmas meals and Halloween parties."

Swallowing another sob, Emily lunged forward grabbing the younger genius and hugging him hard.

"I will never forget you and I will come back to visit and constantly keep in touch, annoying you with the frequency of my letters," she spoke before pulling away, giving Spencer his space back.

"Emily - honestly hand on my heart – I can tell you I will never forget you; it's one of the positive aspects of an eidetic memory. As for letters, I have been having special lessons with Garcia to learn to message and Facebook and Skype and several other things she is still threatening me with that I never knew existed." His gaze dropped to the ground as he spoke and Emily noticed how his foot was nervously swishing the water laying in the puddle below him. "So you had better do more then write after all of this."

"Thank you," Emily whispered, genuinely touch by the effort he had gone to for her.

Both of them turned and headed back toward the hotel.

"I have my chess set if you would like one last game," Spencer asked hopefully.

"Let me get changed and I'll bring the coffee," Emily smiled. "I look forward to one last chance to beat you."

"It's not your last chance; just your last…for a while."

. . .

Don't be dismayed at goodbyes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again. And meeting again, after moments or lifetime, is certain for those who are friends.

Richard Bach, author