Chapter Three
From The Outside Looking In
Tiny Author's Note: So, I'm actually posting a day early. I'm almost completely through my revisions, so updates will be picking up pace. This chapter is for Yana, who has reviewed every chapter and both of the sequels, my thanks and appreciation to you for your kind words; enthusiasm and making me smile by trying to guess three chapters ahead. Your guess was both right and wrong but I don't think you'll be disappointed.
Emily rushed into the parking garage and ran all the way to her car; she threw herself into the front seat, slamming the lock closed. She pulled her gun off and rather than stowing it in the glove box, as was her usual habit, she took the safety off and laid it in the seat next to her. It was the same thing that she did every time she left the building now; she couldn't seem to help it.
She pressed her hands hard into her forehead, trying to stave off the blinding headache that wouldn't seem to leave her. With bleary eyes, she carefully took in the vehicles around her, counting the cars and noting their places before allowing herself to relax a little, although the tension in her shoulders never abated now.
What the hell was the matter with her? It was a simple question, shouldn't have engendered that kind of response. But without thought, care, or consequence she had landed on Dave's head, telling him to back off and butt out of her personal life.
She was going to owe him one hell of an apology tomorrow but right now she couldn't face it. She was too tense and too afraid that she would say something else that she would regret. Every time she opened her mouth lately it was only to stick her foot in it, over and over again. She was always prone to speaking without thinking but now she couldn't even seem to censor her harsher thoughts, and that she had been taught to do in infancy. Poor Dave, she hurt him. She kept hurting all of them being so closed off.
She had been standing in the conference room with the others and gasped loudly when she realized what she had done, how far she was slipping. She had seen the look that passed through his eyes, the sadness, and couldn't stay there anymore, had to run, get away. Without hearing her name being called by the team, she grabbed her stuff and ran from the office as if the hounds of hell were on her tail.
Emily's head fell forward and she rested it on the cool leather of the steering wheel, she thumped her head against it, unsure if she was trying to kill the pain or not, before giving up and starting the car. It was highly unlikely at this stage in the game she was going to bang in some common sense. She looked out the windows again, counting the cars and noting their places again, before she put her own in gear and pulled out of the garage, watching her rear view mirror the entire time.
Sean McAllister watched from his position in the parking garage as Emily jumped in her car and sped away. The tears in her eyes explaining better than anything else ever could what was driving her. The sight of her pain tore at him and he wished she would just ask for help, from someone. It was killing him, having to stay back and not do anything.
She was losing it and there was nothing that he could do to help. He was forced to remain on the outside, keeping her safe from a distance and always looking in at her downhill spiral. As it was, he should have left after telling her, he certainly couldn't tell anyone he was still in Washington and still watching her. He didn't have a reason to be here and just simple worry for a former agent wasn't going to be enough to cut it.
He was preparing to follow her, figuring that she was heading back to the hotel she had been staying at when he noticed her Unit Chief coming out of the stairwell, having bypassed the elevator, determined to catch her before she got away.
At first, Sean was concerned by the dark, intense look on his face, but when he noticed her car already gone, that look turned to sadness. Aaron Hotchner stood and dithered on the spot for a moment before seeming to come to a decision. He turned to his own car and got in. For a moment he sat there before pulling away. Sean decided to follow him, just for curiosity sake; to see if his assumptions about the man were correct.
Aaron thumped on the door to her apartment for the third time in the last two minutes and it became more than apparent to him that she wasn't going to let him in. He huffed out an irritated breath and dug his keys out of his pocket. He was going to find out what was going on with her if it was the last thing he did.
"Prentiss, I'm going to use my key." Still no response and his look darkened farther.
First she pulled away from the team, and then she grew so jumpy and touchy that everyone was afraid to approach her. He could see her obvious pain, the headache that made her squint and shy away from the light, which seemed to be her constant companion lately. She had become sullen and quiet, unresponsive to conversation, now her blow up at Dave, not that he didn't deserve it, he was bordering on nagging at her, but that was hardly the point, something had to give.
"She's not there." Hotch spun around at the sound of the soft Scottish accent that came from behind him.
His eyes darkened when he took in the appearance of the man before him. He was dressed in such a way to leave the least impression possible, his clothes non descript and dark, but not too dark. His movements while quiet were measured and self-assured. There was something there, a studied casualness in his movement, there that reminded him of Prentiss, the woman he had come to find.
"Who are you?" Aaron's voice was overly harsh, sensing a threat from the man in front of him. What type of threat he couldn't be sure but the feeling was still there.
Sean lifted a negligent shoulder, "Just a friend of our girl." The comment raised Hotch's hackles. The longer this continued on the more possessive and protective he felt of Emily. He didn't like anyone call her 'our girl'.
"And you just know that she's not here?" Posed as a question it was more of a statement and fundamentally it bothered Hotch that this man knew something about Emily that he did not.
Although, to be honest there was much about his agent, his friend, he didn't know.
"For certain; she hasn't stayed here in almost a month." The man across from him looked sadly at the door as if trying to will her back into her home.
Hotch tipped his head in thought as he studied the man standing across from him. "You know what's wrong with her, don't you?"
"Aye, I do."
Hotch took several steps forward, trying to corral the man into a position that would be least favorable for his escape. "You need to tell me because she can't keep going on like this and I can't help her until someone does."
There was sympathy in the other man's eyes that he couldn't repress. "I can't do that and she's not trying to hurt you when she won't either, she can't."
Hotch placed his hands on his hips and looked down at the floor. He really was getting tired of this. Every time he turned he was blocked by something, mainly Emily's own unwillingness to let him in, any of them in.
There was some relief in knowing that she wasn't trying to be evasive with him alone, in having it confirmed by someone outside of the team, that it wasn't just him that she couldn't talk to. She had been so distant since coming back from Oklahoma he had truly wondered if he had stepped out of line with the woman.
Aaron kept his head tipped down and raised his eyes alone, doing his level best to instill fear in the man across from him. But at the same time knowing it was never going to work. He opened his mouth to speak and the other man raised his hands in surrender. "I can't either, not yet, but, if you care I can give you a place to start."
Hotch's head snapped up and Sean couldn't miss the flare of hope that was in his eyes.
"Look into her personnel file. If you look hard enough you'll see something that doesn't make any sense. It's all I can give you but it's a start."
Hotch never responded, just rushed passed the man and ran out of the building. He never even thought to question how this strange man would have any idea of what was in Prentiss' FBI personnel file.
Sean was glad to see that he was right. It was more than just the interest of her supervisor that drove this man; his worry was far too personal, far too close to the surface. Sean had been watching the Unit Chief, almost as much as he had been watching Emily and couldn't remember meeting someone who was as calculating and controlled. But he had seen the way that the other man watched her, and there was nothing controlled in his look at those times.
Aaron Hotchner would take care of his girl, likely wouldn't give her a choice in the matter, especially since she wouldn't allow anyone else to do it. He just hoped that the man could connect the dots, or enough of them to get her to ask Sean for help. Because in the end, she had so little control of things right now, that he wouldn't take that from her too. If she was going to let anyone in, it had to be her choice and hers alone.
Several hours later Hotch sat staring at her file, perplexed. The man was right, it didn't make any sense. It followed her chronology closely enough, things he knew from before her time with the FBI, from when he worked for her mother.
It had her going to Yale, graduating with a degree in linguistics/social psychology and a minor in abnormal psychology, strange pairing that. She moved on to the academy and did her first turn in St. Louis for training. He whistled softly, he always knew she was smart but for her to have done this much before she was 25 was impressive.
He looked back down at the file with a furrowed brow; this was the point where it stopped making any kind of sense.
She was assigned to a new unit in New York, BAU Counter-terrorism as a staff linguist. In itself, it made perfect sense with her background and education in linguistics not to mention the time that she spent in the Middle East, Europe and Russia, but it was the timing that was completely off.
According to the file, she was assigned six months before the unit was even formed. He remembered the time clearly, there was such upheaval in the BAU. It was when they finally splintered the BAU into the three groups that it had now, Counter-Terrorism, Child Cases and Adult Analysis. Two of the existing BAU agents were sent down as a permanent part of the unit, Marcus Micheau as Unit Chief and Aaron was offered the subordinate position, but adult behavioral analysis was his passion and he passed. Two of his team members were transferred less than a week later.
For a year Emily was assigned there, but there were no notes in her file, either good or bad, not from her supervisor or the Unit Chief. She was then off to desk duty in Chicago. It was a sever downgrade, both in position and pay.
It also didn't make sense that he was never told of this, since it would have given her a shoe into the unit when she first arrived. All of the drama of her first few weeks would have been completely avoided, but he was never told and to be honest he never really looked at her personnel file. At first he had been determined that she wouldn't stay and then she was family and he wouldn't have allowed her to leave, in fact when she tried he chased after her and brought her back.
Hotch sat back and turned it over in his mind trying to figure out what was missing and the only thing he could think of was that it was all a lie.
Aaron reached over and picked up his phone, debating for a moment before finally dialing. This could get him in a world of trouble if he was right, and someone was keeping tabs on her history. There wouldn't been any suspicion in him pulling her file, he was her Unit Chief, after all. But this phone call was something else.
He was just about to hang up when a slightly breathless voice came over the other end. "SSA Micheau."
"Marcus? It's Aaron."
A slight laugh came from the other end. "Well, as I live and breathe. How have you been? It's been a while. How's the ear been? Is it still giving you trouble?"
Aaron smiled at the sound of his old friend's voice; it had been so long since the last time he had talked to the unit chief for Counter-terrorism. At least six months, just after JJ left and things got so busy with the team trying to cover up the holes that she left.
Hotch smiled softly at the thought of his friend. It was just like him, not to bring up his last visit or their subsequent phone conversations, without Aaron mentioning it first. "It's good, my hearing has almost completely returned. How're your wife and kids doing?"
"Sadly the wife found greener pastures. The kids are still good though." He may have said sadly but if Aaron remembered correctly he was not happy when they saw each other last. "Now, I know you. You never call to just chat. What can I do for you Aaron?"
"I'm sorry that I can't talk longer but I had a question for you. When you first got down there, when they opened CT in New York, do you remember a linguist on the staff? She would have been young, pretty and incredibly smart. Name was Emily Prentiss."
Hotch bit his tongue at how much he had just revealed to the older man. And he just knew that Marcus wouldn't miss the affection or pride in his voice.
There was silence on the other end while Marcus thought about it. "No… and you know me. A pretty skirt, I always remember."
"You and Dave both." Marcus laughed outright at that, remembering his old friend and partner before he moved to CT.
"I didn't get to see him when you all were here back in 2007. How is he? Is he still with wife number three? We didn't really talk about him when you were here last." There was a fondness in his voice that you didn't get to hear often.
"No, divorced again and currently looking for ex-Mrs. Rossi number four." Aaron chuckled along with his friend, wishing that he had more moments like these in his life, but knowing he wouldn't give up the life he had now.
There was silence on the other end and Hotch's brows shot up at how tentative the question was when it came. "Do you mind my asking, why you are calling me about one of your own agents?" Hotch cringed, he had been hoping that it would have slipped passed Marcus, but besides being a profiler, he was suspicious and paranoid, it was what kept him at CT in New York for almost ten years.
"It was just something that someone said to me in passing and it's been niggling at the back of my brain." Hotch closed his eyes and prayed that Marcus bought the line.
"Well, trust me Hotch; if she was here I would have remembered her. If I remember from when you were here after the bombing, she is quiet beautiful."
"She is. Thanks again Marcus."
"No problem Aaron, come see me the next time you're here and we'll grab a drink."
"That we'll do, thanks again."
Marcus' voice dropped to a quieter note, "And Aaron… this conversation will go no further." There was understanding and determination in his voice that relieved Aaron in ways that he couldn't express.
He should have known that SSA Marcus Micheau would know without being told, what was going on, and in that moment Aaron was never more grateful that his friend was not only suspicious and calculating but also an incredibly loyal SOB.
"Thank you Marcus." With that Aaron hung up the phone.
That phone call was confirmation of what he had already suspected. Whatever she was doing at the time was classified and it was deep enough that someone felt it necessary to fake her history and keep it that way. There were very few instances where a personnel history would be changed for undercover work and they were power and money. Neither option boded well for Emily Prentiss or what she had been doing.
And if the man in the hall of her apartment building was to be believed it was what had come back to haunt her now. Aaron leaned forward and rested his head in his hands and just knew that this wasn't going to end well.
Emily turned on her side as her eyes blinked open. She lifted her head a little and blearily looked over at the digital clock on the nightstand and let out a frustrated groan. Flopping onto her back she slammed her head into the pillow repeatedly. One hour and forty-five minutes. A new personal record for the least sleep gleaned at any one time.
Her heart was still pounding in her chest from the remnants of a dream that was already slipping away. Must have just been a normal run of the mill nightmare this time. Not one of her techno-colored surround sound nightmares she had been having since Doyle had escaped and went off the grid.
Emily rolled to her other side and squeezed her eyes shut; trying her best to fall back to sleep but at the same time knowing it was useless. Finally giving up on the pretense of rest she rolled over and sat on the edge of the bed. She reached for her Glock, checked the safety, pulled the clip to makes sure it was loaded; sliding the clip back in she all but threw her gun back on the nightstand, feeling like an idiot.
She dropped her head into her palms and let out a frustrated breath. Same pattern every time she woke up, it didn't make her feel better, and it didn't calm her nerves or make her feel safer but she couldn't seem to help it and couldn't seem to stop. Like so many things she was doing lately.
Just like losing her tempter at the most unexpected times.
Poor Dave, she knew he was concerned for her, they all were. She knew it was the only reason he kept checking on her, asking her how she was. She really shouldn't have landed on him the way that she did. She missed them, all of them, and allowed herself a moment of self-pity.
She was hurting them with her evasions and her distance. She had always been alone in her life and she never expected to be in the position that she was now. For years it had just been her and her Mother. Elizabeth Prentiss was a foreign diplomat and as such she didn't worry about secrets, they were a part of her day to day life. It didn't matter that Emily had to keep this secret; there was no one she wanted to tell, till now.
She missed her family.
Regardless of their fussing she felt removed from them in a way that she hadn't since she first arrived. Like they were still a family and she was on the outside, looking in, wishing for a place, like she used to have. But she didn't anymore.
Emily stood up, pulling the blanket with her and wrapping it around her small frame. She couldn't stop shivering. She knew it was because she wasn't sleeping right, same as the headaches, but she would give anything to be warm. She pulled the blanket tighter and crossed her arms over her chest. She made her way over to the small window that over looked a non-descript street and felt an irrepressible longing for her apartment, for the big picture window and its view of the capital. But he would find her there, in her home.
Here, she was unknown. She paid for the room weekly with cash. She traded off cars at the mall about a mile away, parking on one end and walking the length of the mall to the car at the other. She always made sure that she hit all three floors as she travelled the distance between the two and doubling back at least once.
Logically she knew he wasn't even in the states yet, but with his money she also knew that it was more than likely he was having her watched, having someone keep tabs on her. But he wouldn't find her here. She was being careful and it brought her some peace, but not enough to sleep.
She glanced over at the phone on the nightstand and felt the guilt well up in her again…
Emily looked down at the digital display before letting out a curse, she had to answer it whether she wanted to or not. "Prentiss."
"Hey, it's Derek." Emily's eyebrows shot up at that. He had the same problem that they all did with identifying themselves by last names alone. He never started a call like this and for Morgan to start of a conversation with his first name meant that this was personal, messy, and likely going to be about her behavior at work.
Emily decided to forestall the buildup and just get it over with. "I'm sorry."
"We know you are princess." He let the comment hang so that she would understand that they all knew and that in the end, regardless of what she did or said, she would always be forgiven. "But you need help; you can't keep going on like this."
"Derek, please I can't talk about this right now." She squeezed her eyes shut and willed him to leave her alone, feeling the tension in her frame that had dissipated slightly, return with a vengeance.
His voice was soft when he spoke again. "We've all been there."
She was grateful that they all seemed to think it was burnout and not some other nefarious reason she was being so evasive and decided to use it to her advantage, even if it made her feel slightly underhanded.
"I'm just not ready to have this conversation yet." She allowed him to hear how tired she was, hoping that he would get it and leave it be for now.
She heard Morgan sigh softly. "Em, I'm your partner, besides that I'm also your friend. I'll do whatever I can to help you. We all would. You know that."
Emily felt the tears drip down her cheeks and bit her lip against a sob. These men, they would, she knew they would, but she couldn't tell them and the hopelessness of the situation sunk in a little further.
"I know Derek, but please… I just can't. Not yet."
He let out another sigh, "Okay, okay. I'll leave it be for now, but just know we're here when you are ready."
She heard the soft click on the other end of the line and closed her phone, dropping it on the bed. Emily buried her face in her hands and finally let the sobs she had been repressing come. She hoped, and not for the first time, that she would cry herself into exhaustion and sleep.
It didn't work.
It never did.
She looked back out the window and tried not to think about Derek Morgan, her friend and partner. He sounded so lost, unable to help and she knew how hard that was for him. He was the one that faced everything head on and did his damnedest to knock it to the ground and he couldn't in this case.
Without conscious thought Hotch entered her mind, another type-A alpha male personality, and she wondered what he was doing right at that moment. Likely he would be home with Jack, the young boy sleeping and Hotch going over files, like they had all caught him doing, more than once, after the young boy was in bed.
She missed him. If she was honest she missed the possibility she had killed in the parking lot in Oklahoma.
The team had made it their mission to make sure that Aaron Hotchner was never alone and that Jack had a feeling of family. At first they had made up some pretense for arriving at his home unannounced. Some bit of information for a file that couldn't wait till the next day, or some such thing.
After a while, they figured out that Hotch didn't seem to mind and gave up all pretenses. They would head over, sometimes alone, or in pairs, to have dinner with the two of them, drag them out for a movie, to the park, anything.
She and Pen were the ones that Jack seemed the most drawn to and as such went out of their way to spend as much time with him as they could. But she hadn't seen Jack since this whole thing started and since Oklahoma she hadn't seen much of Hotch either.
Standing next to the SUV, she had seen everything in him she had been wishing for, for longer than she wanted to admit. Her Unit Chief was such a complex man and she found him endlessly fascinating. He was a hard ass in the office but at home with Jack he was often soft and loving, that complexity drew her in like nothing she ever would have expected. She was equally attracted to both facets of his personality and now she could hardly get a hello from him if it wasn't geared towards work.
He was keeping his distance from her. She had hurt him. She knew she was going to and wished with every fiber of her being that she could go back and change things but at the same time knowing that she couldn't.
Their conversations had become stilted and forced, the friendship and camaraderie was almost completely gone and she missed him. His calm and steady influence, especially now when her life felt so out of control.
But still he watched her from a distance, with that cool and enigmatic look on his face. Calculating, trying to piece it together.
She wished she could just tell him.
She wished she could find her friend again in the coolly aloof man she was faced with now.
She wished for her family.
How she wished that Doyle would just come after her, then it would be over.
One way or another.
Think She Might Have Author's Note's Issues? - From this point forward Emily is going to start to feel a little OOC, especially from her cannon character (God knows on the show they are making her a hard ass – Sooo not happy about that). But it's necessary in her evolution in this story to take her to the point that she's at in Tragedies and the reasons for the decisions that her and Hotch have made. I think on the show they are making her much older when she meets Doyle; in this one she is very young and just out of training, making her more susceptible to trauma.
I have done my level best in the following chapters to give her some rationale for her reactions without turning this into an epic length, flashback story, because in the end it's about Emily and Hotch and how they change because of the threat to her. So again, read, enjoy and let me know what you think... Little button there, give it a poke.
The next chapter should be up on Sunday, provided that nothing goes wrong between now and then. Extra special thanks to all of the people who reviewed the last chapter, I was really leery about putting it out there. Thanks again.
TBC in Chapter Four – When All You Hear Are Footsteps