Tuesday January 3, 2012- BAU bullpen
When I come to work the next morning, I find JJ standing with Penelope in front of the bullpen. In the quietest, calmest voice that she can muster, JJ is trying to convince Penelope to not go ballistic and murder Aaron.
"I can't believe that he's engaged…." Penelope spits out, "How- why- and he didn't even give Emily a warning?!" Penelope pauses when she sees me trudge onto the floor. She takes in my ragged appearance and decides calmly, "Oh yeah. I'm definitely going to go strangle Hotch."
"Penny, don't," I tell her. She nods her head in disagreement and tells JJ, "Jay, you're going to have to bail me out of jail after I do this. I have ten bucks under my sofa that should help-"
"That's so nice, Penny," I reply softly, " but I can only worry about one thing at a time And JJ and I bailing you of jail for murder won't be one of them."
"I'm kidding, sweetie. It did get you to laugh!" She's right; I'm struggling against the desire to grin at Penny's behavior. She doesn't' buy my expression and pokes me on my side. The gesture makes me laugh.
"But seriously, how are you?" Penelope asks. I shrug my shoulders and mutter, "I feel like crap. I didn't sleep at all last night."
"Oh, sweetie. Why don't you take the day off-"
"No," I answer too quickly and then pause to recover, "It wouldn't do me any good. I need to focus on work. If I stay home, all I'll think about is Aaron and Beth. "
JJ and Penelope exchange looks and nod in agreement. They know me too well.
Penelope turns slightly and pulls up something on her tablet before her attention is slowly pulled to a spot behind me. I turn around and see that Aaron is walking towards us. He seems…less perky than he was in Seattle.
"Morning," Aaron greets all of us. His focus is completely on me. JJ shoots him a don't screw this uplook.
"Morning," I respond. A slight breeze passes behind me as JJ and Penelope run off to the vending machines to give us some privacy.
Aaron starts the conversation with," Um-"
I tense up, not for the reason that can be easily assumed. It's because in 5 years I have never heard Aaron say um.
"I was wondering if you and I can get lunch so we can talk," Aaron asks.
My heart tells me repeatedly to say no, but that little part of me that's curious about this "talk" and likes to make me suffer makes me say, "Ok."
1:57- Nicky's Diner- Montclair, Virginia
"Hey," Aaron calls out to me softly. We are sitting in a booth at the back of one of my favorite restaurants. My eyes are focused on the menu, which I've been staring at for almost ten minutes now.
"Oh, sorry," I nervously chuckle. I instantly think of the diner's special, a Philly cheesesteak with fries. It's not something that I should be eating while sick or even while at work. The cheesesteak is so good and unhealthy that it should be illegal. "I'm ready when you are to order."
His eyes look up towards the top of the menu. "I'll just get a BLT."
"Good…that's good. It's really-um- nice- gets a lot of orders around dinner." My idiotic rambling gets a raised eyebrow from Aaron. He places the menu aside and puts his hands together like a therapist or a parent who's about to give their child a lecture.
"How are you?" Aaron asks me with a quiet, patient tone. It drives my nerves up the wall.
"I'm ok, Hotch. I really…am," I lie. The end of my statement is hesitant, which he instantly catches.
"You don't see fine. You had a panic attack when I announced my engagement."
I shift in my chair when he says my engagement. In my book, it shouldn't even be a phrase unless my name is in it. "I guess…I meant to say that is that I'm trying to deal with this in the best way that I can. A lot has-"
I pause. I'm not sure if I want to share the details of the last few months with Aaron. I trust the man to save my life in a firefight, but his behavior in the last month makes my trust in him, personally, very shaky.
I correct myself. "It's just that….heartbreak sucks and I'm learning to deal with it. I'll be ok-I mean I've been through worse and have come out shining."
My entire statement is a lie.
It's a deep, disgusting lie. I haven't been through worse! My entire life has not collapsed on me all at the same time. Doyle and my seven month hideaway in Paris can't hold a candle to the constant sick, lonely feeling I have every time I wake up in the morning. Benjamin Cyrus and the ass kicking that I received in Colorado that day is child's play to the lack of energy, the lack of drive, and the fact that a large part of me doesn't want to do any of this anymore.
The part of me that tells me to just give up.
I'm not sure if Aaron buys it, but before I can know if he does, Aaron's phone rings. It's Garcia, alerting us about a new case in Salem, Oregon. We both ask for our meals for carryout and head back to work.
On the car ride back, a nagging feeling tells me that this whole mess called my life is about to get worse.
Thursday, January 5, 2012- Hydra Park Trail, 5 miles from Salem Police Station
The nagging feeling that I had in Quantico has come true.
We flew into Salem on Tuesday night and gotten right to work on catching a blitz unsub who brutally attacks at random and then his victim for dead. Tuesday and Wednesday resulted in dead ends and long hours. Thursday morning, however, gave us the lead we were dying for. Two eye witnesses had stepped forward with very vivid and accurate descriptions of the unsub. The police distributed pictures of the unsub to the city and got an overwhelming response.
Unfortunately, that response not only gave us a name- Holland Keaau- it also gave the unsub a reason to escalate. With his anger changed from the public to the police, Keaau decided to make one last stand. He decided to take another victim, a very important victim, back to to cabin where he had tortured many of his victims.
And because of my luck, this last victim is me.
He has taken me to a cabin deep within the woods at the edge of the city. After a long trip in the truck, the 6' man has tossed me into his basement where I can see that he's ready to "play a game" with me.
Keaau grabs my hair and pushes me to the ground. He pushes me hard against the cold basement floor and like most creepers, takes a whiff of my hair. I take this opportunity and give him a hard kick to the groin. He falls back onto his knees, but quickly rebounds and pushes me back down onto the ground, this time with a hold on my throat.
"Go….ahead…" I croak out in short gasp, "You won't….. get away with this."
Keaau chuckles and release my throat. "Don't test me, bitch."
"Do it!" In the Academy, they teach all new FBI agents on what to do when in a situation like this. Nearly begging the assailant to attack you isn't one of them. Begging is what an agent with nothing to live for does.
Someone who's had rough couple of months like me.
"Fine." Keaau begins to repeatedly punch me in the stomach hard like I'm a punching bag. Tears begin to form in my eyes after multiple hits. At this moment, I'm pretty sure that if the team doesn't come to my rescue right now, I might die.
And if on cue, we hear from the door, "FBI! Get off of her, you monster!"
It's Morgan, who lunges at Keaau and gets him off of me in an instant. I get a chance to see who's come to my aid- Morgan, three SWAT members, and JJ are in the room with me. Dave, Spencer, and Aaron are nowhere to be seen.
I make it up the stairs slowly and into the frigid Salem air. Outside are ten police cars and our SUVs. Aaron is standing with Dave by an ambulance, both looking very concerned. When Aaron spots me, I put up a hand and say, "I'm ok."
His eyes are locked on me with a hint of fear in them. This comes as a relief- his eyes tell me that he still cares about me and that something else is causing his childish, irrational behavior towards me.
Aaron glances between the cabin and me. "Are you sure?"
"I'm ok," I lie before trudging up the hill. I don't need to look back to know that he's watching me.
11:30pm- Portland International Airport
"How are you really?" Jennifer asks, dropping her go bag to the ground. The team is at the airport ready to fly home. We have to fly out of Portland because of technical issues at Salem's municipal airport. I'm so thankful for this because I need to go home ASAP and try to relax during the three day weekend.
I hoist my bag up further and tell her, "Physically, I hurt like hell. Mentally, I…JJ, you're going to think I'm crazy."
"Crazy- I'm really exhausted so just humor me- or crazy- someone needs to stay at my apartment to make sure that I don't do anything stupid?" Although her question has some humor to it, JJ stares me down with a deep seriousness on her face.
"I'm not that bad-"
"You are sweetie," JJ sighs, "We were in the house when you told Keaau to hit you. Morgan thought it as you just taunting him, but I think otherwise…..like you really wanted him to hurt you."
"No, I didn't. Look, yeah I'm upset about Aaron and yes, I'd rather go ten rounds with Keaau or even Doyle in a basement than watch Aaron marry someone else. But I'm not suicidal."
At least I don't think I am.
JJ's eyes widen and for a second I think it's because of what I've just said. Actually, it's because Aaron had stepped closer to us and heard every word that I have just said.
"Emily….." he says slowly. Before I can say anything, my phone rings from my pocket. I put up a hand and answer, "Hello," while walking into a different hallway.
"Is this Agent Emily Prentiss?" the caller asks. The tone of the caller sounds grim, which freaks me out.
"Yes, is something wrong?"
"Yes. I'm Commander Hale McHenry, and I'm sorry to tell you that Petty Officer James Smith was killed in action in Kabul, Afghanistan this morning. He had listed you as an emergency contact…."
The rest of what the caller has to say doesn't register. My mind can only focus on that another friend of mine has been killed. It's rare for one person to lose two friends in two different countries within a few months of each other. It's also what I see to be the catalyst- the thing that truly pushes me over the edge.
"What…I- th-thank you for calling," I stammer before hanging up. I start to walk back with my whole body trembling. I find Aaron and the team standing at the terminal where our bags are. I go directly towards Aaron and reach out towards him for some kinds of contact- a hug, a pat on the arm, anything. He stops me before I can touch him and holds me arm's length away from himself.
"Emily, I don't know how much I can tell you this," Aaron says, "but I can't give you want you want from me. I'm with Beth."
He thinks that at this moment, I want romance….and not what I actually need, which is a friend.
At this very moment, I want nothing more than someone- anyone- to hold me and tell me that everything's going to be alright. Even though Aaron's mistaken, I register his response as a rejection. JJ is nervously staring me down before asking, "Em….what was that phone call all about?"
"Nothing important. Excuse me; I need to run to the bathroom." I slowly start walking down the hallway and take a right. I continue down the hallway until I see the escalator that leads to terminal 6, which holds Delta and American Airlines flights. One flight is about to leave for Spokane. It appeals to me- it's a place where I can go to get away and be hard as hell to find. Numbly, I enter the terminal and buy a ticket.
The ticket attendant seems nervous when she sees me as my eyes are bloodshot red and hears how my voice is cracking. "You ok?" she asks me.
"I am having a really, really bad day," I tell her. She smiles empathetically and hands me my ticket. Suddenly, I remember that within 20 minutes, my team will realize that I have gone missing. I pull my gun off of my holster and place it with my badge on the counter. The attendant's eyes widen and I explain, "I'm a federal agent, but something happened and I need to leave my team that's currently over at terminal 5. There's no need for a rush or anything, but can you give it to them before their flight leaves? It's the 12:15 private flight to Quantico."
"Of course. Are you sure everything's ok?"
I nod and take the ticket. My entire body is numb, from my head to my toes. Something in me has crashed and I can't seem to function anymore. All I know is that the flight to Spokane that leaves 15 minutes is where I need to be.