There is something to be said in the painful silence between the car ride from the hospital back to the hotel, Hotch is driving one car, Seaver driving the other, neither of them should be driving anything let alone their remaining teammates, but they were the best choices present.
Morgan is pouting, pouting, a general sad expression not even Garcia can recall seeing for more than a quibble during the darkest of his times she's bore witness to, but she can tell it hurts him, because she is in the same place. It isn't empathy when it's the same exact pain, and it is. The same knife thrusting underneath her rib and into her chest is Morgan's pain too. Emily Prentiss didn't make it off the table alive. She gives a knowing look to Seaver who is driving, then back at the rearview mirror to see Morgan, arms crossed and defensive. She knows what he wants to say- he held her in his arms, she told him to let her go… no one wanted that, not even remotely. They'd all rather take the same blow to the stomach, recover together for the month of rehab and have it all be back to normal. Not this, god not this… especially with Doyle still out and about, that bastard!
Garcia looks back to Seaver, she's trying to keep her tears at bay, she's doing a much better job at that than Garcia. Garcia's decided to do herself the favor and forgo eyeliner and mascara for the next two weeks. Garcia looks back through the rearview to spot the SUV behind theirs. She can see Hotch, looking hurt and stoic, and Rossi- Rossi's just doubled over and it hurts. It physically hurts to see him.
She can't even see Reid from her vantage point, but she knows as tense as this car ride is, that was not the car to get into.
She wipes at her eyes before choking back, "We need to stop there." Pointing, she signals Seaver to the nearest spirits shop and goes in, Hotch drives past, he knows full well what that is, but he doesn't have it in him to take the men from their reprieve of solitude in their hotel rooms.
There isn't much delay in time between Seaver's impromptu stop and completion of route to the hotel, it takes only fifteen minutes and Hotch's SUV had managed ten. Hotch hadn't even talked Rossi out of the vehicle before Seaver pulled up in the spot next to them. It took seeing Seaver, the future of the team for Rossi to put on that brave face that somehow not everything will turn into shit, but he knows it's a farce. He knows tonight nothing will turn to shit- puke flavored the same as a vintage Scotch, yes… but that's the obvious observation.
He gets out of the car and heads in with the group from the first SUV. Hotch realizes Reid hasn't so much as moved to unbuckle his seatbelt within the five minutes waiting there. He swallows down the thickness in his throat. He knows what this is, he'd seen it after Elle to a smaller degree, that guilt, that loneliness, that helplessness of not being there for a friend fast enough…
He turns around from facing the windshield to view Spencer full on, he had silently been crying since JJ stopped him from viewing Emily's body. It was subtle, and he knew Spencer would put it as 'you don't want to remember her like that. You want the memories of her alive.' He'd never suspect the truth. Not so close to it. Not this raw, even still, Aaron knew just what he had to say and do to keep it that way.
"Spencer, we're back at the hotel now." His voice raked in a calm wave of suppressed emotions, he sounded that same dead tired of a mourner who has grieved an entire funeral through condolences and just wants to have the day be over and the next day start. This is because Emily Prentiss is dead. Emily Prentiss is never walking into the bullpen again wishing she had some chocolate to go with her coffee when she had her period, and wouldn't say something incredibly inappropriate in French about how Reid walked not realizing that Hotch- while he was never good at it- had taken four years of the language in High School and damn well knew what she said under her breath.
Hotch knew that Emily Prentiss is dead, but he also knew that there is a very real reason he wouldn't call Ambassador Prentiss to the funeral. Rossi knew she was in Italy on extended vacation, what he didn't know was that her extended vacation also just entailed a surprise visit from a very real specter.
There is no point trying to assume what country she'd wind up in, what alias, or what agency she would work with now. He knew she'd work. She'd do everything in her power to catch Doyle before he realized she is as alive as his son. He also knew he would never look into where that boy was, he couldn't risk a dead woman who had no contact to reach out to for help here anymore. He looked at Reid, and for the first time in a long damn time he remembered just how heavy the world is when it leans on you unfairly.
Emily Prentiss is dead, long live Emily Prentiss. If his lover ever finds out that he lied to him about this, about his involvement in making her disappear… well, he could only assume it would make him an ex, and that Reid would transfer if not quit the bureau outright.
There is too much at stake to mess this up.
"Spencer, we're back at the hotel now. The others are waiting for us… we should go inside."
"I didn't get to say goodbye. Morgan- Morgan was the last of us to see her and I'm too afraid to ask if she looked like she was at peace or if she looked like she was in pain."
"Would knowing that make it any easier?" That caught Reid off guard, his head snapped up, locking eyes with Hotch intensely.
"Nothing would make this easier… nothing about this could be easy!" Spencer let out a huff and wiped his eyes, "We lost. We lost in every possible way, and I know we're not supposed to count on victories, but we didn't get Doyle and we didn't save Prentiss. We lost, Aaron… we're not supposed to lose! We're not supposed to just… but he's a ghost with no connections to anywhere that we know of, there are no witnesses, and any interagency cooperation just …without Prentiss there's no way we can catch him and it was to save us. We're not supposed to need saving, I feel so weak… like if Prentiss could have counted on us this wouldn't have happened… but… but she knew she couldn't and she sacrificed herself and it makes me feel sick. How can I look any of them in the eye? We all know I'm a weak link, that there's no way I would have lasted five minutes with Doyle, or Cyrus, or…"
"Reid!" The sharpness that edges out the dulled tones within his name are striking as crisp as a slap to the face and he hates to admit it- but he needed to hear that.
Aaron opens the driver's door then opens Spencer's, Spencer fumbles with his buckle during this because he knows what is about to happen, and Aaron is happy to prove himself predictable. He pulls Spencer from the car and into a tight embrace. Spencer lets out a more audible sob as Aaron brushes down his hair.
"This isn't because of you, Emily knew just how strong you really are. She saw you overcome what happened in Georgia, in Colorado, and this god-forsaken town. Nothing good comes out of here… this place is just a trap for personal tragedy for this team. I should put this on the refusal-list automatically."
There, Reid's shoulders stiffen and he lets out a melancholic laugh, "You're right… I didn't think about just how unlucky this place is for us… Gideon lost six agents here, then there was Foyet… and now Doyle." The tension only strengthens, turning into a purposeful flexing, "We are not letting that son of a bitch walk away after doing what he did to Prentiss… we just can't."
"Agreed, but right now isn't the time to think about Doyle, it's time to think about what and who we've lost and how we have to come together and make this team still function. Once we figure that out, we'll find him and nail Doyle to a wall."
Reid swallowed thickly, "Do you think Rossi can recover from this? He asked her to marry him, she was going to say yes before this all happened."
"Believe it or not, I'm not worried about him, he loves her, but I think Seaver can help pull him through it. It's like he has someone to be an example for, but it's not going to be easy on any of us. Rossi lost the woman he wanted to marry, but we feel a loss just as deep. You were absolutely right about how we're her family… that's not something that can just be glossed over and forgotten. I know I don't have to tell you that much."
Reid nods, "Aaron, JJ will be there, won't she? The funeral?"
He nods, "I'm sure she will be, she and Prentiss were close."
"I need to thank her. She's absolutely right… I don't need to remember Prentiss like she …when she…"
Aaron pulls him in closer, "I know, I know what you mean." He gives a quick hail-Mary before pulling Spencer toward the hotel. "Tonight we drink for who we lost, tomorrow we start picking up the pieces."
As they walk to the lobby they can see the others waiting by the lobby elevator. Garcia makes it clear what room they are drinking in as she holds up the room-key that had been registered under Prentiss in the small-scale venue. Tonight they'll drink surrounded by the few possessions Prentiss had brought with her to the river of Styx, and tomorrow, they'll pick up the pieces, box them up, and figure out where to find Doyle and make the bastard pay.
Fin.
