Soooo I started this oneshot forever ago, but decided I wanted to finish it. Obviously this is Emily's perspective of the airstrip scene in 'It Takes A Village'. I really enjoyed writing this (and watching the scene 5 bajillion times to get the details right while endlessly sobbing because DENTISS) anyway, I hope you all enjoy, and consider this me coming back to fanfic writing kind of :D
None of the characters or anything belong to me, but yeah.
Emily grumbled to herself as she sat in the helicopter with Reid and Ian. How in the world had this day come to end like this? She'd started this morning in Paris. As usual, she'd wondered how long it would be until she saw any of her friends again... If she saw them again. Now, here she was. In the United States, sitting next to the man who had caused all of her suffering and considering how Reid had convinced anyone giving Ian to Lachlan McDermott was a good idea. Wait, she'd backed him up. Convinced Strauss to let them do this. All to save Declan. She smiled. Declan... he was the reason she was here right now. Sure, things might be more simple if she'd actually killed him, but just thinking those thoughts hurt her heart. How could anyone hurt that sweet boy?
"How are you still alive?" Ian asked, looking at her. It seemed, from his facial expression, it was a question he'd been battling with himself over whether or not he should ask. There had been plenty of shock in the initial reaction to him seeing her. And then he'd smiled. But she'd seen it. She'd seen the surprise, the pure incredulity at the fact that he hadn't succeeded in killing her.
"You know how, Ian." Emily replied, shaking her head, continuing to keep herself in check. Ever since she'd first walked into the interrogation room that had held him back at Quantico, Emily had been fighting the urge to strangle the man with her bare hands. Up until the moment she'd actually seen him, she'd convinced herself he wasn't worth the effort. Of course, that was a moment when she hadn't ever thought she'd see him again. Hotch had promised Ian would be dead before she came back.
"Humor me, love," Ian rolled his eyes, that same smile on his face. His blue eyes were flickering with amusement.
Emily shot him a glare, trying to be menacing despite the pang of sadness and longing she felt hearing him call her that. Immediately she shook off the feeling and held back the desire to sigh. She had to remain composed. Her lips parted, but she remained silent. "I... I have good friends," she replied finally. "People who really care about me. People who always will,"
"I did care about you. Until I found out you were a liar," he muttered "and until I thought you murdered my son,"
"Well, it was necessary. I had a job to do," Emily sighed. It was weak. She knew it was weak. But it was all she had. Considering what she actually felt when it came to how things had ended, she had quickly realized how truly confusing they were. In the end, had she really loved Ian? Yes. That she knew. For a while there, she'd even lost herself in Lauren Reynolds. Emily Prentiss had been there, yes, but Lauren had dominated her behavior. It was almost as if she'd been two separate people. That had been the breaking point. As soon as Emily had realized Lauren had taken control, that was where it had to end. Something she hadn't realized, though, was with Ian Doyle it didn't end. It wouldn't end until one of them was dead. That was what truly terrified her, the fact that she had no idea what the outcome of this night would be. There was an unyielding knot in the pit of her stomach, one that was insisting that either her or Ian wouldn't make it out there. The problem was that she had no idea which, no idea exactly how Chloe and Lachlan would react to the FBI showing up with Ian Doyle in custody, offering to trade him for his son.
"Emily? Are you alright?" Reid asked, interrupting her contemplation.
"I... I'm not sure, Reid," she sighed. "But I think I will be," Emily smiled at her friend, unsure why she'd slipped and allowed her to show her emotions in front of Ian right now. The pain at the fresh betrayal showed in his face. She couldn't bring herself to ask how Reid was. It was obvious that he would be hurt. Emily didn't need to ask to know that, and it killed her. She knew there was no choice, but knowing how she had felt being away from her friends, she couldn't imagine how they felt. She had known they were alive. All of them, with the exception of Hotch and JJ, had thought she was dead.
"Doctor Reid, Agent Hotchner says we're cleared for landing. They're waiting for us," the pilot said, speaking through the headset.
"Go ahead," Reid replied, taking hold of one of Ian's arms. Emily took the other, and felt a chill run down her spine. The moment was moving closer and closer. Soon she would know exactly what this 'gut feeling' was leading up to. She felt the small aircraft begin to descend and sucked in a deep breath, shutting her eyes for a moment.
"You're tense, love," Ian whispered, leaning into her ear. It was obvious that he was taunting her. Maybe it was the fact that he was afraid of what was going to happen. Of course, he was a sociopath, so there was no knowing for sure.
Emily looked at him, she'd been able to almost completely regain composure in the few seconds after Reid's exchange with the pilot. Of course, as soon as Ian had spoken again, that had been shot to pieces. "I'm not the only one, Ian," she replied, still attempting to look the slightest bit composed. Ian wasn't nearly as skilled at profiling as she was, but he'd deduced that she was a spy. That had to tell her something about how well he could read others.
Before he had the chance to reply, the helicopter touched the ground, wracking Emily's nerves further. She wasn't even sure that she would be able to walk at this point. Taking another deep breath, she confirmed that her vest was secure under the FBI windbreaker she wore. Reid checked his own, as well as Doyle's. He nodded confirmation to his friend, and the two of them waited only seconds before they heard the doors opening outside. That was their cue.
She heard Hotch talking to Declan's captors through the megaphone. Shooting an anxious glance at Reid, Emily stepped out of the helicopter first. There was another agent waiting right outside to help if it was needed. She grabbed Ian's arm, helping him step down from the small aircraft, Reid followed him out and stood, waiting. It took only seconds for the door of the airplane to slowly lower, and a shorter period of time for a man, Lachlan McDermott, to appear, roughly gripping Declan's arm, using him as a shield. For a moment Emily stood watching, before she realized this was the last moment she wanted to let her emotions take over. She'd made it this far.
"Bring Doyle here!" McDermott demanded, his grip on Declan slackening slightly as he held up a gun. Immediately Reid started forward, holding onto Doyle's other arm, the shock wearing off, Emily followed quickly taking deep breaths. "I want him here, on his knees!"
As they moved forward, Emily looked over at Ian. His face was stone. She wondered if he had some plan to escape. He always had a plan. Lachlan spoke, and Emily barely caught the words. Focusing, she sighed.
"Now hand him over," the man demanded. Emily loosened her grip on Ian's arm, when a woman appeared in the doorway of the airplane.
"GUN!" Morgan bellowed behind them, and before Emily could process what was happening, Ian was falling. Gunshots penetrated the air, but she moved as he fell, trying to hold him up. He was badly wounded. She didn't have time to assess the damage before Declan fell next to her. Immediately her focus shifted to the boy, Emily needed to know he was okay. As soon as she could tell he wasn't injured, she looked back at Ian. He was dying. The look on his face confirmed that he knew it. Delcan was staring at him, he looked confused. Emily felt her jaw drop in horror as she saw the defeat in Ian's eyes. Ian looked like he wanted to say something, but instead he slowly reached his hand toward his son. Delcan took it.
"I remember you," the boy muttered after a pause.
"Sorry, son," Ian replied quietly, immediately. It took seconds for his eyes to close. Emily could feel the tears welling up in hers as she fully comprehended what had happened. It was over. Ian Doyle was dead, and she felt as lost as ever. It was in that moment when the realization truly hit her: She still loved him. She always had.
Emily knew that her team surrounded her, but she wasn't looking at any of them. Her eyes remained locked on Ian. Several minutes passed slowly as Hotch began giving out orders for taking care of the three dead. She slowly stood, holding onto Declan. Emily let out a deep breath as she led him to one of the SUVs. No words were shared. None were needed. The two of them climbed into the back, and Declan looked at her.
"Lauren, will it all be okay?" he asked. She knew that Declan knew her real name, but didn't blame him for using the one more familiar to him.
"Eventually," she nodded, her voice breaking. She didn't trust herself to say more. And then Declan was leaning on her shoulder, she felt his warm tears sliding onto her windbreaker. Finally the grief overwhelmed her as she simply wrapped her arm around Delcan's shoulders. In her pocket she fingered the ring that had been returned to her. Something had compelled her to keep it. "Goodbye, Ian," she whispered and silently began to cry.
