Author's Note: I had absolutely no idea I would get so emotional when it came to Penelope's character. I had to play off of their sisterhood, so - of course - I felt it was necessary to include the scene in the restroom from 'Valhalla', the voice message in 'Lauren'...it was tough, but I hope you find that the end result is beautiful in its own way. Also, I'm still borderline with my feelings about this, but I've decided not to have a chapter for JJ, since she wasn't officially part of the team at the time of Emily's 'funeral.' JJ will, however, be portayed in Hotch's chapter; after all, their stories regarding Emily's 'death' are remarkably similar.
Thank you reading and sticking with the characters thus far, and please know that reviews are greatly appreciated. Thank you.

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds. (But let's just pretend I do, shall we?)

She had to be dreaming. That was the only reasonable explanation. Yes, it was all a horrible nightmare. In a matter of minutes, she would wake up snuggled on the couch with Kevin and see Buffy drive a stake into yet another vampire. She always fell asleep during Season Three reruns, anyway.

Oh God, stakes.

Images of Emily flashed behind her eyes in rapid succession. Sweet Emily at the hospital for Henry's birth, wild Emily dancing her worries away at a local bar on their girls' night out, compassionate Emily approaching Hotch about possibly adopting Carrie, no-nonsense Emily putting in for a resignation instead of whispering in Strauss's ear…kick-ass Emily surviving every single unsub attack of her history.

All except one.

Morgan's macabre recall flooded her memory; how Emily had been laying there, on the cold floor of the abandoned warehouse, a table leg imbedded in her side. A stake, like one straight out of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Except Emily was not a vampire! Penelope Garcia internally cursed Joss Whedon. Emily was not a vile, blood-sucking creature who preyed on victims in the night. No, Emily was the strong-willed woman who fought psychopaths like that. She was a woman who loved her team, her family. She was a woman with an adorable black cat, boyfriend troubles, and a penchant for all things daring.

"How's it going, stranger?"

"Ah, I'm a little tired. I went salsa dancing last night."

"Oh my God, like I need another reason to find you amazing."

She was, simply, incredible.

Burning tears rolled down her flushed cheeks and she let them run, let them continue on their morbid journey that had an end, just like everything else in life. Just like everyone else.

Her shoulders shaking almost imperceptibly, Penelope cried for her sister. She cried for the brunette whose sheer presence made everything better, made her day brighter. And because of what Emily had told her, in the restroom on that last day…she knew the feeling was mutual.

"I know what the world can do to a girl who only sees beauty. Like you. Somehow, you…you always make me smile. And I don't think I've ever thanked you for that."

God, all she wanted to do was take Emily into her arms and keep her there. At least there, she would be safe. At least there…she would be alive.

Tears still streaming, she shuddered out a sigh. Emily couldn't be gone! What she would give to hear her sweet laughter just once more…that wasn't too much to ask, was it?

Pinching herself as hard as possible, Penelope closed her eyes, counted to three…

…but when she opened them, she was still there, standing before the eerily beautiful coffin that housed her friend. Her sister. Her heart wrenched as she realized that Emily must have been subjected to so much pain for her casket to be closed; for her body to not be seen by the people who had seen her through the best and worst times of her life…

Of their own volition, her words from the impassioned voice mail came back to her.

"God, Emily, what did you think? That we would just let you walk out of our lives? I am so furious at you right now! But then I think about how scared you must be…hiding in some dark place, all alone. But you're not alone, okay? You are not alone. We are in that dark place with you. We are waving flashlights and calling your name, so if you can see us, come home. But if you can't, then…then you stay alive. Because we're coming."

But her word hadn't been enough. They had been too late.

"She never made it off the table."

How were they supposed to do their jobs each day, save other peoples' lives when they couldn't even save the life of their own family member?

She vaguely felt Derek's arm cup her elbow in a means to steady her before she was walking forward and placing her rose carefully atop the others.

It's just a dream, just a dream…I'll wake up, and see her laughing at something Reid or someone else said…

I have to be dreaming…

Yes, that's right…it is just a dream.

But no matter how many times she pinched herself, she didn't wake up.