Welcome back! I hope (if you celebrate) that your holidays were amazing - I had such a great time spending it with my family. Anywho...it's Wednesday and that means a new chapter! Enjoy :)

Warning: Character Death

Anyway, I hope you enjoy :)

3

Less than a week after the murder of Emily Prentiss, Derek's alarm was blaring at him, screaming for him to get out of bed. Only five days ago, it was Hotch's call that woke him. The call that lead him to the most gruesome discovery of his life.

Now, however, the day was beginning at six in the morning. The funeral was at eleven.

Rossi had managed to get in touch with the ambassador, a task none of the other agents envied. He'd informed her of her daughter death and despite her grief, she'd managed to plan an extravagant, government funeral for her daughter in less than a week. After the medical examiner had collected evidence of course.

"Only the best for my daughter." She'd said.

Only Derek knew this was not the best for Emily. She wouldn't want all these strange government officials whom she never met to be 'mourning' her alongside the team. She would not want the priest who would stand at the head of her grave, reciting a bible verse her mother picked out. She would not want any of this.

She wanted to be cremated. She told him, and he was failing her. Horribly.

By the time he was showered and dressed in his black tux, it was ten. He had no appetite, and hadn't had one for nearly a week now. He checked his tie in the mirror just before leaving the house, adjusting it over to the left slightly and sighing.

Never in his life did he imagine he'd be going to the funeral of Emily.

They were suppose to grow old together, have a kid or two, and fight evil together. But that was a pipe dream now.

An hour later, he stood in-between Hotch and Penelope, the latter's hand clinging onto his as if her life depended on it. And he thought it did. He listened numbly as Emily's mother spoke.

Empty words, he thought. She hadn't known Emily like he did. She never bothered to get to know her daughter. Work took precedence over family in the Prentiss household. Emily had told him a few little things over the past few months that only fueled the fire he had against the ambassador. If she had truly known her daughter, she would have known this funeral was the exact opposite of what should have been done.

Morgan did not speak at the funeral — opting to keep his relationship with the ambassador's daughter a secret for as long as he possibly could. Because he wanted to savior those months he had with Emily for a lifetime. The team would have a small gathering at Rossi's once they caught the man responsible, and that's when Derek would speak.

Derek listened to Penelope's sobs, JJ's sniffles and Reid's silence as the coffin was lowered into the dark ground. And Derek's eyes were glued to the white casket. He had to admit, the casket her mother chose was beautiful: white with gold accents.

But, then he realized his beautiful, vibrant Emily was contained inside and it made him sick. It made his insides boil with anger and hate. A hatred that extended beyond her killer. He hated the universe. He hated God. He hated that the world was without Emily. He hated that she served innocence and protected the people every damn day and this was how she was repaid.

When the spectacle was over, he walked past a line of people waiting to pay their respects to the ambassador. He nearly laughed out loud at the sight of Erin Strauss hugging Ambassador Prentiss. Unable to utter a single word to her, he walked back to the SUV's and sat in the passenger seat. Fifteen minutes later Hotch appeared and the others filled the second SUV.

"I didn't see you with Emily's mother." He said blatantly.

"Yeah." Derek mumbled.

"Morgan, I know—"

"No, Hotch. Emily would've hated that." He glanced back at the cemetery, his eyes catching the casket one last time. "That was a joke."

"She did her best." Hotch said.

Derek scoffed. "Whatever."

"Are you ready to go back to Harrisonburg?" Hotch asked as he finally pulled away from the curb.

Derek sat up, suddenly much more alert. "Strauss gave us the O.K.?"

"She understands the circumstances." Hotch said. "But any indications that we're too close, she'll pull us."

"Of course we're too close!" Derek said a little louder than intended. "Emily was murdered for christ sake!"

A silence filled the SUV.

"Derek, I know what you're feeing. Trust me, I do." Hotch said, his voice faltering slightly. "But we need to focus, we need to get justice for Emily."

Derek sighed. "You know she wanted kids?"

Hotch laughed sadly. "No, I didn't."

Tears pricked at Derek's eyes, a watery smile spreading across his face. "She got so happy at the idea of it, like a kid in a candy store, ya know?"

Hotch laughed, although a sob followed it.

"Her eyes would light up when we talked about it. We were gunna start trying as soon as…"

"As soon as what?" Hotch questioned.

"I was going to propose." Derek said. "She was the one, Hotch. We knew we would've had to tell everyone and it would've sucked for a while work-wise, but we were gunna make it work. She's my wife." Derek said, risking a teary-eyed glance over at Hotch before his emotions got the better of him. He couldn't hold it back any longer.

He repeated it. "She's my wife."

But he never expected to leave his wife behind in a cemetery.

…

A week after the murder of Emily and two days after her funeral, the team was together again in Harrisonburg alongside its police force.

Hotch had sent Derek, JJ and Reid to the dump site of the woman before Emily, Lacie Norris. Although the evidence was long gone, he wanted Derek no where near the station when the report came back on Emily from the M.E.. He decided that he and Dave would take the first impact.

"Here's the report on your agent." Sheriff Todd handed them two manilla folders. He glanced at the pictures of the entire team that had been spread out on the table, the ones they'd taken at their Christmas party the year before. "Try and remember her like that, when you read the files."

It took Hotch and Dave nearly an hour to read the two pages worth of information.

Repeated rape.

Strangulation.

Defensive wounds.

Bleached.

She'd been soaked in bleach, just like the other victims, which meant they had no forensic evidence from her body. Even if she'd scratched him, which they were positive she had, the DNA was destroyed.

"Fuck!" Hotch yelled as he slammed the chair into the table, unable to control the rage that was built up inside him.

"Aaron —"

"You read what she went through, Dave. Don't tell me to calm down."

Rossi decided to let the younger man cool down before trying to speak again. Instead, he closed the file and put his head into his hands. He felt the same rage and pain as Aaron, but he was better at controlling it.

"The garage where Lacie Norris was found was nothing unusual, just a regular—" JJ started but then stopped as she felt the weight hanging over the room. "What's going on?"

Hotch and Rossi exchanged a glance before Hotch picked up the manilla folder. "It's the M.E.'s report."

Derek felt his stomach twist. He knew what was inside that folder and wasn't sure he was ready to read through it. But, instead of leaving he held his hand out. Emily had lived through it, he could at least read it.

The three profilers who had to read, himself and JJ and Reid, separated and found their own quiet rooms among the chaotic station. Derek found a quiet interrogation room and sat down. He found that his hands were sweating and his heart was racing. The butterflies in his stomach were dropping to the pit and created a sinking feeling that rushed to every part of his body.

He rubbed the palms of his trembling hands onto his pants and took a seat in the hard, metal chair.

And for the next hour, he read through the hell that Emily endured. For an hour his heart broke over and over again and he shed tears he did not think he had left.

She had scratches and bruises all over her arms, which were defensive wounds. He fought back just like he knew she would. She had lacerations on her back, head and knees. But the two details that broke Derek the most came at the end of the report.

Evidence of repeated sexual assault.

Bruising around her neck.

Hemorrhaging in her eyes.

Finger nail marks on her neck.

Nail marks, that the examiner determined to be her own, which were made when she tried to pry her assailant's hands away from her neck. Marks that were made while she struggled for her life.

When he was finally done reading, he stood up and felt the rage coursing through his blood. He tried taking a few deep breaths, but nothing calmed his rage. He pummeled his fist into the wall of the interrogation room and ran his hands over his head. When he decided he had calmed down enough, he grabbed the file and stepped back into the hall. He found a wide-eyed JJ standing off to the side, looking rather out of it.

"Jayje?" He tried.

Slowly, she turned to face him. She revealed her blood-shot eyes and her trembling lip.

Within seconds of meeting her eyes, he found himself trying to hold back his own tears. They quickly found each other's arms, wrapping one another in a bear-like hug, both wetting the shoulder of the other. Then, Reid stepped out of his own room and Derek straightened up to see him.

Instead of walking towards the pair, he stood still for a moment.

"Kid—"

Reid ignored him and walked back through the station and disappeared into the swarm of police officers. Instead of running after him, Derek and JJ silently agreed to give him some space. The boy genius was not the best at handling emotional turmoil such as the one they faced now.

JJ wiped at the wetness on her face, blinking a few times to attempt and pull herself together.

"I can't even imagine what it was like…" JJ said quietly.

Derek closed his eyes and shook his head. He did not want to think about that. "I don't want to think about it." He gently pushed past her and walked back into the room where Hotch and Rossi waited.

Both older men looked at him with pain in their dark eyes. Derek just sighed again, not particularly wanting to discuss the report again, but knew it was a crucial aspect of their investigation.

So, he compartmentalized. Just like Emily always did. He disassociated his partner with the crime, and suddenly the report was about a women he didn't know.

Because knowing who it was, well, it made it unbearable.

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