Morgan was crammed into the back of an ambulance sitting beside a priest, while the EMTs sat in front. They'd taken care of Emily's immediate medical needs before leaving her apartment, so they didn't need to be in back. Morgan was the only one that could hold her down, so he was chosen to go with her. He was incredibly thankful for that as he sat hunched over, holding her hand in both of his, and pleading with God to help her out of this. His relationship with God still wasn't very good, but he prayed nonetheless.

The priest wore the standard black garb and white collar, and held a crucifix between his palms as he prayed. Morgan could see his mouth silently moving in a pattern and rhythm that had been steady since they'd departed.

Emily was sedated. She looked almost peaceful, or would have if not the straps keeping her on the gurney and the bruises and cuts all over her. Purple was even seeping into her face on the right side, where she'd hit the wall. The EMTs had fortunately not found any broken bones.

The physical damage wasn't what worried him now. Emily was strong, she could take whatever was thrown at her and fight through it. No, what had Morgan trembling inside was the fact that they hadn't had even a glimpse of Emily since Father Davison had first come, hours earlier.

Were they already too late? And if a demon was in her body, where the hell was Emily? Was she seeing, feeling and hearing everything? Was she paralyzed inside her own body, watching, but unable to fight?

Demon. Morgan had to shake his head at that thought. How could any of this be real?

Yesterday, he'd have been the first to call bullshit. Part of him still wanted to chalk it all up a severe psychotic break. A very severe psychotic break. Anything would be easier to swallow than a demon. Demons were a Sunday school fable, one that his childhood priests liked to torment them with, but that was it. Just a fable.

But Morgan had seen some unexplainable entity do things he'd never thought possible. He'd seen that entity inflict horror on his partner's body, horrors that it turned his stomach to think about now, even as his eyes drifted back toward the evidence. He swallowed down the emotions that began to breed tears, and gently squeezed her hand.

"Come on, Prentiss," he said. "You've got to come back to us."

They came to a sudden stop, and Morgan heard the engine click off and the doors up front open. The EMTs yanked the back doors open, and ushered him and the priest out so they could get to Emily. Morgan saw that they were in back of a church, an old one that was made of stone. Even through the dark he could make out the crosses sitting on the roof points above the gables, and turret rising up on the side closest to them. It was gothic style, he'd guess, filled with stained glassed and the rigid authority of the church.

Two priests came and met them as the EMTs got the gurney out.

"Good evening, Agent, Father Halloran told us to expect you," the older one greeted. His face was creased with wrinkles, and his grey hair thin over his skull, but he looked a hell of a lot nicer than the priests Morgan remembered from growing up.

"Derek Morgan. This is Father Donahue, and Emily is on the gurney. Father Halloran said you could help us until the Vatican sanctions the exorcism."

"Father Richard, and this is my colleague, Father Hughes. We will do all that we can for your friend."

Father Hughes, the younger one, was already by the gurney, his mouth moving rapid fire in quiet prayers, and his hands moving up to make the sign of the cross over her.

Morgan swallowed. "There are more of our friends coming. They should be here any minute."

"I don't know that it's wise to have so many people around her under the circumstances," Father Richard said.

"All due respect, Father, we need to be here. We're family, and we don't abandon our own, not even temporarily, and especially not when they're…when they're in danger."

He nodded. "This is a house of God, and you are all welcome here, but I have to ask that you listen to us, and follow our instructions when we give them. This is a very different kind of monster than you're used to, Agent Morgan."

Morgan nodded, and followed the priests into St. Agatha's. He held Emily's hand as the EMTs pushed the gurney, and only let go when they reached a door that led to a set of stairs. Father Hughes led the way down, while Father Richard held the door. The EMTs collapsed the gurney and carried it down the old stone steps.

It wasn't dingy or dark, but rather the opposite. The basement was well lit and clean, used primarily for storage it seemed. There were sealed boxes, and neatly organized shelves lining two walls, and two doors in another wall. Father Hughes opened one of these, and walked inside without a word. The EMTs followed, Morgan not far behind them.

The room held a bed that looked like it came out of a convent, with a small iron frame and thin mattress. The sheets were white, like in a hospital, and there appeared to already be some medical equipment in pace. There were crucifixes above the bed and the door frame, and nailed to the other two walls as well. There were two recessed lights built into the ceiling, pouring fluorescent light down on them.

"Did you just prep this room?" He asked.

The young red-haired priest shook his head. "About 20 years ago, the church decided we needed a facility where we could safely perform exorcisms. The room doesn't have much, but we do now have the ability to provide proper medical care."

"Right…so what's the room next door then?"

"A resting space for the priest performing the ceremony. It can be a very exhausting process, and very time-consuming."

Morgan nodded. "So, I've heard."

"Agent Morgan."

He turned to see Father Donahue with the rest of the team, and Jimmy. There was an air of discomfort about them as they glanced over the storage area and the exorcism room. Rossi and Jimmy were the only ones that appeared unbothered.

Morgan looked back at the bed to find the EMTs had transferred Emily already, and were hooking her up to the monitors and an IV bag.

"Uh, what's with all of that?" Garcia asked.

The female EMT looked up, and offered a reassuring smile. "Just some basic equipment to keep her hydrated, and monitor her pulse and blood pressure. Dale and I will keep an eye on her until Dr. Faber gets here."

"Dr. Faber?" Rossi asked.

"He's from Holy Cross over in Baltimore, he's present at every exorcism in the area."

"So, you've done this before?" Morgan asked.

"Oh yeah, Dale and I handle transport for every exorcism. Church likes to involve as few people as possible, and we know how to keep our mouths shut."

"So, then you believe in all this?" JJ shifted anxiously on her feet.

"Don't know, and don't want to know. We never stick around the to the show. I wouldn't bet against it though."

"Her blood pressure is up, even with the sedatives. Pulse too, but it's not too high," Dale stepped away from the machines, and turned from his partner to them. "This is pretty normal, so don't be too alarmed.

Normal, Morgan thought, yeah, this was all perfectly normal.


Reid looked over when Rossi snorted and shook his head. Feeling eyes on him, he turned to Reid, his own eyes filled with sadness. "Jimmy was right, we didn't notice."

"Didn't notice what?" Morgan asked.

"Emily." He sighed. "Think about, she was losing herself. The last year, maybe even longer."

They were silent until Morgan spoke. "I noticed, I just didn't…I didn't want to face it."

"What are you talking about?" Garcia asked, worried eyes ricocheting from one man to the other.

"She shot a man to death this year, not even a year after she sat in a car and watched a cop being murdered. That I know stuck with her. And even if he was an unsub, that death stuck with her too," Rossi explained.

"After Marianne Collins died a couple months ago, she kept trying to wipe the blood off her hands. A week before that she was telling me how the families are the hardest part of what we do. I could see it in her." Morgan shook his head, his teeth planted deeply into his lip.

"She has seemed off," Reid said, turning his face down. Had they done this? Had they left her vulnerable?

"But, but she was fine," Garcia said. "She seemed a little tired, but she was fine."

"She wouldn't let us think that she was anything except fine, would she?" Rossi asked.

"That's why the demon took her?" JJ said.

Reid watched Rossi open his mouth, but it was Morgan who spoke. "She was losing faith in what we do, and more importantly, in herself. Maybe that's all it takes."

All six of them were upstairs in the main part of the church, resting on their knees before the altar. Jimmy had led them in a prayer, and then stepped out to tend to something. Father Richard was taking them one by one into confession. The priests had agreed that if they were going to be downstairs during the ceremony that they needed to be cleansed of sin beforehand. It was Hotch's turn now.

So far, there was no word from the Vatican, but they were all operating under the assumption that the ceremony would be sanctioned.

Reid was terrified.

This wasn't something he could explain with science, or even psychology. It wasn't something that made sense to his logical brain. This was fantasy. No, this was supposed to be fantasy, something from horror films made in Hollywood. This was pure insanity.

But it was real.

It was real that they were gathered in a church, praying and waiting for the church to send the equivalent of a Catholic witch-doctor to release Emily from the hell that had stolen her. Something had taken over her body, abused her body, and made her do things she'd never do, say things that she would never say.

Hotch stepped out of the confessional, straightening himself, and walking forward. His conflict, his confusion, was written in his eyes, but only to someone who knew him well enough to read them.

"Dr. Reid?"

Reid swallowed, and took his turn, standing up, and walking forward. He gently shut the door to the booth, and sat fidgeting in his seat.

"Have you ever done this before, Doctor?" A voice asked.

He glanced toward the perforated partition, and quickly looked away. He wasn't supposed to do that, was he? Reid cleared his throat. "Um, no. I wasn't brought up with religion."

"I'm sorry to hear that, but Jesus doesn't have an RSVP by date. He'll welcome you whenever you're ready to welcome him."

"I, I don't think I'm ready to yet." He tensed, bracing himself for judgment that never came.

"You don't have to be ready yet. How about we just jump in, and you tell me about your sins?"

Reid nodded and then winced when he realized the other man couldn't really see it. "Uh sorry. I…I've hurt people while on the job, killed people."

"This was to protect others or yourself?"

"Yes, sir, um Father."

There was a beat of silence. "Yet, this weighs on you."

"The one man, he wasn't bad." Reid shifted in the seat, his right leg bouncing anxiously. "He wasn't all bad."

"This man, he did bad things, he hurt people?"

"He killed people, yes. But he had a psychiatric condition, Dissociative Identity Disorder. It's when a person develops alters, or additional complete personalities, to handle situations they can't handle themselves. Usually it develops from severe childhood abuse, often sexual abuse, and can be quite dramatic. I once heard of a case—"

"Doctor," the priest interrupted. "While I agree that the subject is fascinating, we have limited time, so if you could please get back to the original topic?"

Reid shrunk back, feeling even more awkward now. He finished his confession quickly, repeated the prayer the priest said, and returned to the group.

Morgan was after him, and he was in there for no more than ten minutes when Garcia chuckled. All eyes turned to her, his included.

She blushed. "I was just thinking, if Emily was up here with us, she'd be cracking a joke about how Morgan's going to be in there forever trying to explain all his lady friends."

JJ took one of her hands and squeezed it. Garcia nodded. "I can practically hear her saying it as if she's right beside me."

"She'll be okay, Pen," JJ said.

Garcia nodded, but her expression soon dissolved into tears. She was afraid and overwhelmed by all of it, and Reid could certainly relate to that.

After another minute, Morgan stepped out, face rigid with tension, and mouth deep in a scowl. Then he saw Garcia crying, and his demeanor changed instantly. He hurried over, and pulled her into his arms. Garcia clung to him.

"Excuse me, folks." Father Hughes appeared, calling their attention. "I just received a call from Father Halloran. The Vatican has sanctioned the ceremony."


Alright, not super thrilled with this chapter, but it's kind of the calm before the storm. The exorcism is up next. However, I'm going to be out of town for part of this weekend, so updating might be delayed. Thanks for reading, and please review!