March 29, 2011

Before she even opened her eyes a stabbing pain cursed her body from her lower abdomen. It was hard to breathe, her experience told her it was probably due to the fact that half her ribs were broken. Her cheekbone was broken. Something else tingled, she felt her skin tear around it. Then, it hit her. The four leaf clover burnt into her chest. Doyle. Doyle had shoved a stake in her stomach and then he'd kept asking for what he wanted the most. More than he wanted her dead.

She remembered what Morgan had told her just before everything had gone blank. He'd told her he was proud of her, for what she'd done. Nobody knew about what she'd done. Nobody kneweverything she'd done. Doyle sure knew what'd happened between the two of them, the team knew more or less about the whole operation, Clyde knew more than them and still there were so many things she'd kept from him too. To protect him. To protect herself.

She lifted slowly her hand with no real result. She tried again. Nothing. She wanted to sit up, but it hurt to breathe, her heart was beating so hard it hurt. She wanted to talk to the team, to explain why she'd done all of this, why she'd lied to them. Frankly she didn't even know why she crossed the line, well, she was far past the line. Lauren had somehow taken over her. She needed to tell them, reassure everyone she wasn't Lauren, Lauren Reynolds hadn't died, but she was secured in one of the neatly closed boxes in the back of her head.

She caught a glimpse of Clyde through the half closed blinds. She could see him talking to what she imagined to be a doctor, a few nurses. She couldn't see anyone else, she couldn't see her teammates. Had they been so mad? So mad they wouldn't even visit her in the hospital? No, Morgan had told her clearly he didn't hate her. He hadn't just said that because she seemed to be about to die.

Accidentally pulling one of the wires connected to the heart monitor, causing it to beep wildly, she got some attention. The doctor, nurses and Clyde rushed into the room.

"Glad to see you finally awake." a thick british accent greeted her.

She grunted, her gaze fixated to the door, awaiting her friends and family to step in any minute. The nurses that finished to check on her left the room and shut the door behind them. She looked up to Clyde expectantly.

"Plus tard." he murmured, glancing at the doctor checking her vitals. He sat down next to her on the bed and gently took her hand. Normally she would have slapped his hand away, scolding him for how clichèd the gesture was. Not now.

She realized then, if he was trying to comfort her somehow, something bad had happened and as far as she knew she'd been the only one admitted with a pierced belly. Her eyes started to well up with tears and in a split second she remembered Doyle hadn't died, he'd escaped. He could have hurt one of her people. He wanted so bad to know where Declan was. Her mind shifted unconsciously to Garcia. She was the first one she'd go to find someone. Maybe he did to.

As the doctor left the room, Clyde waited a few seconds after he shut the door and turned to her again. "Everyone's alright. And dead worried about you."

Her chest fell, she'd been holding her breath, uncounsciously. She opened her mouth to reply, she couldn't form words, all she got out was a strangled gasp.

"I'm getting you water." he affirmed before sitting back next to the bed. He helped her drink a little.

She closed her eyes for a few seconds and then opened the up again. "Where is everyone?"

"We need to talk about that."

Her eyes widened. "You said I was the only one hurt." she whispered. "What are you not telling me? Are you making it an habit to keep things from me?" a little angrier than the first time she added.

He shook his head and smiled warmly. "You're not going to like this." at her nod he continued. "Jeremy sold the list to Doyle, when we didn't tell you about Doyle being in North Korea it was because we thought..."

"Tsia had switched sides too?" she asked, hurt to know her former colleague, whom she'd trust and considere a friend, had betrayed them, her. "Did she?"

"No," he shook his head vigorously. "but I couldn't be sure. I had to protect you. I'm a man of my word and when I promised nothing would happen to you while you were with Doyle I meant it, so until we catch him I'll be your ghost."

Emily was shaking her head already. "Don't even think about it." she smiled slightly. "You'd do it just so that you can follow me in the shower."

He chuckled and squeezed his friend's forearm. "Probably." he turned serioud then.

Silence fell.

"Wait," she said warningly. "where is eveyone?"

He looked at her into her eyes, still for about ten seconds.

"No, no, no, no, what's going on, that look," she agitated and nodded up at his face, "the last time I saw that look, you told me I had to go undercover with Doyle."

"Calm donw please." he said calm and emotionless. "You know how this works. Doyle escaped. You're alive. You're the key to find his son."

A tear fell on her cheek. She didn't exactly know where he was going with this, but if she was sure of something, this was everything but good.

"Your team is in Quantico, right now, working." he said criptically.

She looked at him puzzled. Not only they weren't there, but they were working? "Working?" her voice cracked.

He moved the closest he could to the bed. "They're just finishing their week off rotation after your funeral."

Woah. So much information in a bunch of words. She felt suffocating, the meaning of his phrase barely sinkin in. "My," she croaked. "funeral? Am I dead?"

He smiled reassuringly, although she felt like anything but. "You've been in an induced coma for two weeks. After the medics rescued you in the warehouse, in order to save and protect you and your team, we faked your death."

"We?"

"Me, Agent Jeruau and Agent Hotchner. We're now in Canada in a safe location." he finished, waiting for her to ask whatever was on her mind.

"JJ?" last time she checked she still worked for the DOD.

He nodded slightly. "Hotchner asked to come and help find you."

"No," she shook her head. She'd survived her suicide plan and she couldn't go back to her team, her family. "You can't do this. You can't hurt them like this, they'll never forgive me. I wanna see them."

Clyde smiled as he saw her eyes water, he knew she would soon realize this had been the better decision and he also was well aware that she never, hardly, broke down. "Look at me," he waited for her to comply. "It's just a precaution. We need you and everyone else to be safe, you won't be alone, it's like when you went undercover, you're a different person, an alias, but we all have your back."

"What's going to happen now?"

"First you're going to heal and then you'll take it easy and start your temporary life as one of the identities you'll be given." he'd noticed tears hadn't touched her cheeks, she'd considered his answer good enough. For the time being. "You won't even think about Doyle, while a trained team takes him down, understood?"

She nodded. She'd spent the last couple of weeks alone, not totally, but on her own for sure. She'd planned to let Doyle kill her, she'd planned to pay for her mistakes not caring how much that would cost her, as long as it would cost something to her only. She was wrong though. She hadn't considered how her death, or disappearence, for that matter, would hurt her team and all the people she was close to. She survived, but those said important people she now realized she could hurt were hurting anyway, for no reason apparently. She was alive, but they had to think she was dead, gone, forever.

"Wasn't there any other way to do this?" she asked softly.

Her former boss looked at her. He knew just how smart she was, but when it came to emotional attachment she could sometimes be so blind. Thankfully or unfortunately she wasn't attached to many people, she could barely count them on her fingers. "No, love. But I want to promise this though, we will catch Doyle and you will come back to your family. Those folks love you too much and they're such good profilers they kept their cool and found you, when others would have lost it."

Her eyes lit up with pride. Her folks were the bestest. Of course they wouldn't lose it. "I know, they're the best ever."

"Should I be offended?" he said with mocked hurt in his voice. "You know I care for you just as much, right?"

She squeezed his hand with all she had. She did care for him, hell they'd even had their moment right before her assigment on the operation Valhalla. "You know I do. But it's different. We were-are really good friends, we even crossed the friendship line a few times, but my team, we're family, not just really good friends."

He remembered damn well when they crossed the line. Their job didn't allow for personal time, off time, so they decided to start a 'friends-with-benefits' kind of thing. Despite all their efforts not to get too attached they fell for each other and by the time they realized it she was Lauren Reynolds. They'd never talked about it again as she'd been pretty shaken up after the the arrest. "I think I understand."

She smiled at him through sleepy eyes. "Yeah well, we didn't see each other for more than seven years for some reason, but whenever I'll be allowed to be Emily again we need to keep in touch."

"Sure." he noticed the drowsiness in her voice and added. "Now rest. You'll need plenty to get better. I'll drop by to see you when you'll be released and explain the situation. But right now, sweet dreams, Emily."

She withdrew her hand under the cover when he let it, feeling the cold replace the only human contact she was going to have for months, years maybe. The only friendly face she would see in a indefinite time.

Her thoughts shifted back to her colleagues, to Morganìs anguished eyes when she'd been rushed to the OR. Reid pained face as he confided her his medical condition. Garcia's bubbly attitude, Rossi's protecivness. She even thought about how mad Hotch must've been.

She wanted to explain, to tell them how things went, but she couldn't, she couldn't because they thought she was dead and to keep them safe that was the only certainty they were going to have until she'd come back. But, would she, come back? That she didn't know, and even if she did everything was going to be different. They would probably never forgive her, she would never gain their trust again or their confidence.

For a moment, while waiting for sleep to come, she seriously considered the fact that she would be better off dead, for real.


A/N First story I publish here, it may suck, it probably does, but I like it so I decided to share it. Keep also in mind i wrote this while i was home with the flu and very high fever, I rechecked it a few times, but i could have missed some mistakes. Review please, i welcome all the constructive criticism and all the notes. Title seems to have nothing to do with the story, but it'll be explained. :D