What loneliness is more lonely than distrust?
-George Eliot

1 AM. Time to go back to London. Time to abandon JJ.

Emily knew that wasn't entirely true, but it didn't calm her frayed nerves. She remembered the profound sense of betrayal she'd felt when JJ had left her alone in Paris only a few years earlier. As irrational as it was, her staggering feelings of being abandoned and alone had been real. She didn't want JJ to feel that. But JJ wasn't alone, she reminded herself, glancing to her left, and seeing Hotch.

Emily sat in the passenger seat of Hotch's Lincoln Sedan, trying to resist the urge to pick at her fingers to assuage her anxiety and guilt. She watched streaks of multicolored light mix with the raindrops on the car windows.

Hotch had insisted on driving her to the airport, late though it was. She was grateful, partly because she could spend just a little more time with a friend before leaving, but also because she needed to talk to him.

"Hotch…can you do me a favor?"

"Anything," he replied.

She had a feeling he didn't offer such a reply to just anyone. "Can you keep a close eye on Cruz?"

He glanced her way, seemingly uncertain about why she was concerned about a man she'd only just met. Nevertheless, he nodded. "I suppose you know how it feels."

"What?" She said, confused by his reply.

Now it was Hotch's turn to be confused. "A serious abdominal injury," he clarified, "I can let you know how he does."

Not at all what she was thinking about, but his reply was unexpectedly comforting. He was assuming the best about her; in direct contrast to the distrust he'd shown when she's initially joined the BAU. And it was true; she was intimately familiar with the nerve shattering pain and fear Cruz was going to endure. However, Cruz's health was not her concern.

"I have no evidence for this," she prefaced, "but I've got a gut feeling."

"About Cruz?"

She nodded. "I don't think we can entirely trust him."

Hotch sat on that statement for a few seconds. "He nearly died a few days ago, Emily. How could he be working with Hastings?"

Emily felt frustration at how someone so smart like Hotch could be so trusting in authority and the system. "Because in war and politics, nobody ever pulls the double cross," Emily said, sounding more sarcastic than she'd intended. "Hastings may have dumped Cruz last minute, or maybe Cruz is involved in something else…but I don't trust him. Something's not adding up."

"So, nothing concrete, just a feeling," Hotch said.

"A feeling. From someone who did this kind of thing for a very long time," she confirmed.

"So, what should I do?" Hotch asked.

"Keep an eye on him? A critical eye."

Emily's thoughts went back to JJ. "And Hotch?"

"Yeah?"

"I think it's best if we don't tell JJ about this. After what happened to her…" Emily gathered her thoughts. "She needs to feel like she has someone who understands, who experienced, what she did. Someone to trust. I'd rather not tear that away from her, just in case I'm wrong."

"But if Cruz is dirty…" Hotch let the question linger.

"Honestly? I don't think JJ's going to be able to process the possibility yet that she shouldn't trust Cruz. An experience like that cements people together, all other details be damned. I might be wrong about him."

Hotch was silent, a kind of agreement. They pulled up to the airport and Emily opened the door into the rain. Hotch had popped the trunk for her luggage.

"If I see anything suspicious from Cruz," Hotch said after their goodbyes, "I'll call you."

"Thanks," Emily replied. "And remind JJ – anytime, any day. She can call me." She wasn't abandoning her friend. She wasn't.

Emily watched Hotch drive away in the drizzling rain. Taxi cabs slowly passed along the street, and she watched the shadows from their headlights stretch and move along the sidewalk for a few moments before she noticed her hands getting cold. She hoped JJ didn't feel alone.