Title: Identity
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Characters/Pairing: Prentiss-centric - gen
Genre: Angst/Drama
Summary: In the clutches of Ian Doyle, Emily dwells on her past. Meanwhile, the team are forced to dig deep into their colleague's secrets in order to find her.

Chapter Four

Morgan's heart damn near stopped when he saw that Emily's apartment door was wide open. He hadn't expected her to be there, of course, but in their business, a wide open door never meant anything good. He drew his weapon, hoping – praying – like hell that he wouldn't have to use it. Behind him, he heard Hotch do the same.

Once they entered the apartment, it became abundantly clear that there was no-one in it. A deadly calm had settled over the place; if Doyle had been here, there was no reason to linger. They cleared the place anyway – Doyle's team had set fire to the houses of their first two victims. They couldn't rule out anything incendiary just yet.

He got a strange vibe, walking down the hallway to what he assumed was the master bedroom. It wasn't just the fact that this felt like an invasion of privacy. More than that, the apartment just didn't really give him a Prentiss kind of vibe. It was kinda stuffy, and the color scheme didn't quite fit with the woman that he knew.

Profile me again, and you'll wish you hadn't.

He figured that she would mind a little less now, considering he knew that something was going on – something bad. He should have pushed her harder. Anything else – shock, anger, betrayal – that could wait until later. That could wait until they'd found Prentiss.

'In here,' Rossi called out, at the same time Morgan saw the safe. It was wide open, the only contents being a thick envelope, and a small blue pouch. Both items he grabbed, not particularly caring about fingerprints.

'Blood,' Rossi explained, when Morgan finally made his way to the living room. Morgan's heart sunk in his chest. Not much blood, but enough to know that something had gone down here.

There was no doubt in his mind that it was Emily's blood; she had returned home, and Doyle had gotten to her.

Reid frowned. 'Did anyone see a cat?'

'Prentiss has a cat?' Rossi asked, somewhat surprised.

'Sergio,' Reid explained. 'A couple of weeks ago, I asked her if she wanted to come and see Solaris with me, but she said she was going to spend the night with Sergio.'

'That's a code for something?' Morgan frowned.

'I don't think she's been staying here,' Rossi said. 'The food in the fridge is mostly out of date

'Bed's made, and the only clothes in the hamper are the ones she changed out of yesterday,' Morgan said. 'I found these.' He held out the envelope and pouch, which he could now feel was empty.

Hotch took the proffered items. 'Morgan, call Garcia and see if she can find any hotel rooms booked in Prentiss' name or an alias.'

'We've got the car co-ordinates,' Rossi said, holding up his phone. 'It's not far from here.'

'Go check it out,' Hotch confirmed.

Morgan made the call to Garcia, who was understandably on edge.

'Any news? Can I rest in peace knowing that it was all some big misunderstanding, and Emily went home because she was tired, and the photo just happened to be her evil twin from the B universe, who's upset because she doesn't like aeroplanes?'

'Sorry, baby girl.' He was hesitant about mentioning the blood, but Garcia had the right to know. 'We found blood—' There was a slight whimper on the other end of the line, 'and some other clues as to why Doyle might want her, but we're still looking.'

There was a long silence, and Morgan imagined that Garcia was trying to regain her composure before replying.

'Ok, Agent Ashley whose witty nickname I haven't quite come up with yet and I are trying to track down Emily's Interpol records, but apparently their firewalls are state-of-the-art, so it might take some time.'

'What,' he teased, even if his heart wasn't in it. 'Ten minutes?'

'Fifteen, tops.'

'While that's running, I need you to look for any hotel rooms that Emily might have been staying in the past few days.'

'You think she's known about this for a while?' Garcia couldn't quite hide the hurt in her voice. 'Why didn't she tell us?'

'I think she was trying to protect us,' Morgan answered, but that wasn't an answer that he could fully accept. Emily had to have known that any one of the team would have done anything to help her.

Maybe that was why she left.

'Nothing under the name Emily Prentiss,' Garcia announced, after a few seconds of quick typing. 'I'll look for aliases.'

'Thanks, Garcia.'

'Find her, Derek,' Garcia ordered. Morgan hung up and returned to the kitchen, finding Hotch sifting through the contents of the envelope.

'What is it?'

'Doyle,' Hotch said, spreading out the files and photos. 'We don't have any of this.'

'So that's the classified stuff?' Morgan queried. 'If she was undercover, then she probably had to know all about him.' Hotch drew out a single photo, and Morgan's breath caught in his throat.

No doubt taken from sometime while Emily was undercover, the picture showed her and Doyle engaged in what looked to be a passionate embrace. In his mind, he'd known that she had been sent in to seduce Doyle, but the photo drove that fact home with a sledgehammer. He would have kissed her, touched her, probably slept with her.

Was she ashamed? Was that why she had kept this from the team?

'This is more than just revenge,' Hotch said decidedly. 'This is personal.'

There was a knock on the door, and Morgan's hands went straight to his weapon. Hotch nodded, drawing his own weapon.

The man at the door was unarmed as far as Morgan could see, and was wearing a trench-coat buttoned to the scarf. 'Are you with the BAU?' The accent was British, and the way he asked the question meant that he probably already knew the answer.

'Who are you?' Morgan asked, not lowering his weapon.

'My name is Clyde,' he said. 'I used to work with Emily.'

'You're with Interpol,' Hotch said – an accusation, rather than a question.

'Do you know where she is?' Morgan demanded – whoever the hell this Clyde guy really was, Morgan didn't trust him.

'She said she was going after Doyle,' Clyde said.

'And you didn't try to stop her?'

Clyde stared at Morgan, a grim amusement twitching at his lips. 'I don't know if you've met, Emily Prentiss, Agent, but when she has her mind set on something, it is very difficult to dissuade her.'

'He has her,' Morgan spat, angrily. 'Don't act like this is some kind of joke.'

'I am taking this very seriously – why do you think I'm here?'

'If you'd come forward earlier, then Emily wouldn't have gone after him.'

'That was Emily's decision,' Clyde told them. 'According to her, Doyle made threats against the life of your team, if she so much as hinted as to the danger she was in.'

The revelation brought up mixed feelings – Morgan was still hurt that Emily felt like she couldn't tell the team, but at the same time, he knew that if someone was threatening the lives of the people he loved, he would have done anything possible to keep them out of danger, even if it meant losing his own life.

After everything that had happened, though – after Elle, after Gideon. After Foyet, after JJ, and after everything else between, he wasn't sure if they could survive losing Emily, too.

Not like this.