Heal Me

Sometimes, to fix the broken, you have to break the rules.

. . .

Chapter 6

Cop shop coffee. Worst tasting stuff ever invented, Rossi mused as he leant back into the hard wooden chair inside the Williamsburg police station. He stared down into the bottom of the Styrofoam cup, an odd sensation of detachment flowing through his body. Working cases without Emily was hard, she was the one they all bounced ideas off. Cases went fine without her but still, there was a certain energy missing, a bright bulb that had been smashed to a thousand pieces along the way. Rossi often wondered whether or not the others realised how much Emily's "death" affected him.

"We've got another body"

Rossi looked up at Hotch's statement. It had only been two days since the first victim was discovered and now there was another? He sighed inwardly. This case was turning into an escalation of frightening proportions.

"Who is she?" Morgan asked; voice devoid of any emotion.

"Freda Marks" Hotch said, pinning her photo up on the white board. "She was discovered in the local park by a jogger who tripped over her body"

Reid examined her photo, a cloud passing over his face. "She could be Emily's sister" he said softly.

Ashleigh stiffened but did not make an attempt to speak. Rossi shared a glance with Hotch over her head, and the younger man nodded.

"Seaver I want you to talk to Lansdowne family" Hotch instructed. "Reid, Morgan you go to the coroner's office. Dave, you and I are going to check out the new crime scene"

Morgan and Reid stood up, grabbing their jackets. "And I want an update from Garcia as soon as possible" Hotch ordered.

Rossi watched the others depart, not meeting Hotch's gaze. They watched as Morgan led the way past the officers, Reid trailing behind him, a lost soul needing guidance. Seaver did not meet anyone's gaze but merely hurried out, keeping her eyes fixed on the threaded carpet.

"Tunnel vision" Hotch muttered under his breath.

Rossi cast a sideways glance at his former protégé. "I wouldn't have expected otherwise – especially from Morgan" he admitted softly.

Hotch nodded. "It's hit everyone harder than I realised" he said.

"I've known that for a long while now" Rossi murmured, more to himself than Hotch.

Hotch looked over at him sharply. Rossi gave himself a mental shake, berating himself inside his head. He worked with profilers for God's sake. He needed to choose his words more carefully. It took a moment of Rossi holding his breath silently before Hotch seemed to awaken to the situation and they walked towards the entrance.

That was too close, Rossi thought, you are a complete idiot sometime David Rossi!

. . .

Her body lay face down in the dirt, limbs a tangled mess and hair knotted. It was a dumping of pure rage and hatred. Rossi stared impassively at her broken form, eyes shielded by his dark glasses. Hotch was observing their surroundings with a quiet interest and Rossi turned to the younger man. Hotch's back was straightened, tight with trying to keep his composure. He was Unit Chief – which meant he had to be the backbone of the team. How long can he last? Rossi wondered. He shook his head and walked over to join the dark suit.

"He's completely fuelled by rage" Rossi said. "He absolutely despises women"

"He's a sociopath – he has no empathy" Hotch muttered.

Rossi blinked. "Aaron we don't know it's Doyle" he stated.

"Dave look at her!" Hotch whispered, gesturing to Freda Marks' corpse. "The brand, the hair colour, the rage displayed hell – even the body type. It all speaks to Doyle's MO. He wants to kill Prentiss over and over and over again"

Rossi cocked his head. His friend was starting to crack – he could see the fracture. "Tell me now if you can help us Aaron" he said, feeling every bit of an asshole as he spoke. "If you can't be impartial without thinking about Emily then you are of no use to us"

"Are you saying that this doesn't affect you?"

"No" Rossi snapped. "I get it Aaron and no one wants revenge more than I do but we have to do this the legal way"

If only you knew, Rossi thought bitterly.

Every fibre in his body knew that Doyle had committed these murders. The question was, why? Emily was dead to the extent of Doyle's knowledge. Legal, schmegal. It took all of Rossi's strength to not walk into Strauss' office, hand over his badge and gun and start hunting for the man that had taken away the one woman who fully understood who he was and why he did the job that he did. He wanted so badly to tell Morgan and Hotch that he believed them, but admitting that to them now after gunning them down before made no sense. It was hypocritical.

"We're done here" Hotch muttered, turning his gaze away from the Marks girl. "Let's get back to the precinct and see what the others have found"

Rossi nodded, jolting out of his mind whirlwind. Together the two walked away from the crime scene and ducked under the yellow tape.

That's when he saw her.

She was different now, her hair was longer than it had been and she held herself differently now. On edge – fearing attack. She had every right to be at least, with Doyle still roaming the streets. And suddenly it all made sense to him. He knew why Doyle was murdering people in Williamsburg and he knew why they were brunettes. As Rossi watched Emily walk down the street with a blonde woman at her side he felt the urge to shout out to her. She was laughing and chatting animatedly, seemingly unaffected by the horror that had entered her new home. In his mind he would rush across the street, take her into his arms and never let her out of his sight again. His mouth dropped open and his body fell into a frozen form of painful shock.

"Dave?"

Rossi ignored Hotch's voice and began walking towards the street and the steady stream of traffic. If he could make it across the street, he could take her away from this fake life she'd been inhabiting for the last six months. Emily – across the street from him. It was his vision and dream coming true before him in the blink of an eye. Sound muted, all he could hear was a quiet buzzing noise and her laughter echoing across the road. His hands shook with clammy sweat and anticipation built within his chest. They would go away, to Rome or Hawaii and she would live the life she deserved.

"Dave!"

Hotch's shout did not break him but the rough hands grabbing at his jacket did. Rossi stumbled backwards, startled, as a semi-truck whizzed past, its driver glaring at him. His breath came in short, sharp gasps of pain and he could not meet Hotch's curious, worried gaze. He had been inches away from Emily, resentment built towards his younger friend. Doyle was here – he knew Emily was alive and he was here for blood.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!" Hotch demanded. "You almost got yourself killed!"

"Emily" Rossi softly moaned.

"Pardon"

"Emily" he repeated and lifted a shaking, cold hand to point across the street where he had seen his love.

"Come on Dave" Hotch said gently, his demeanour changing. A strong arm circled around his shoulders and Hotch helped lift Rossi to his feet. They started towards the car and when they reached it Hotch spoke:

"In"

Rossi, for the first time in his life, obeyed and sat in numb shock. His gaze never faltered from the now interesting dash of the SUV. In his shock he did not see Hotch cast a dumbfounded glance at him and then across the street. He did not see Hotch produce his mobile and dial a number.

"We've got a problem" Hotch muttered to the caller. "How soon can you get here?"

. . .

It was sunny morning and Emily, or Julie whichever you preferred, did not feel like her mood matched the weather. Williamsburg was a nice town but it wasn't home. It simply wasn't home because there was no dark Italian man waiting at her apartment. No David Rossi meant no home, and no happy days. But she had mastered the art of faking a smile, especially to Alice who, with her constant cheery attitude, made it very clear that Emily's constant cloudy personality often annoyed her. Whilst Alice was a nice person her attitude towards people who were upset was quite brisk and harsh to the point where Emily couldn't be bothered fighting with her.

"So I don't know whether or not I should call him" Alice was saying, as they strolled down the main drag.

Emily shrugged. "Call me crazy Alice but I think he might be gay" she said.

Alice gaped. "Julie!" she whined. "He is not gay!"

"Mhm… cause his pinstripe jeans just happened to iron themselves?" Emily said dryly.

Alice rolled her eyes. "You and your spidey sense honestly!" she said.

Emily laughed and cast her eyes around, a force of habit. Doyle was high on her priority list of people who would want to kill her. Since she had fled DC, and the safety of Dave's arms, her senses had been on high alert for any signs of danger. Her brown orbs stilled on the park across the road and she froze. Police cars were swarming all over it.

"Bloody hell" Alice whispered, taking in the sight. "That's the second time this week"

"What?"

"Some girl was murdered a few days ago, stabbed and found in an alley. They must have found another body" Alice said.

Emily shuddered. Just thinking about blood and guts nowadays made her want to curl up and cry. Then she caught sight of a black SUV and her heart stopped for a moment. Black SUV? Was the team here?

She shook her head, clearing it of a mosquito buzzing around her brain. Alice clicked her tongue sadly.

"Come on" Emily said softly. "This is giving me the creeps"

"Right behind you girl"

They were just turning to walk off again when Emily heard it.

"Dave!"

She stopped dead in her tracks and turned wildly. She saw David Rossi being pulled back from the passing traffic by Aaron Hotchner, her heart jumped into her mouth. They were her! In Williamsburg! Why were they here? The case of course. She furrowed her brow, why the bloody hell; was Dave walking into oncoming traffic? Then her lungs contracted – he had seen her!

Oh God, she thought.

The first thought into her mind was to call the US Martial, John Graves, assigned to her. He was posing as the landlord of her building but her heart stopped her. Dave had gone six months without her, not including photos, and he like her was probably feeling the pain that Emily had constantly tattooed inside her. Greedily, she drank in the sight of him. His dark hair neatly combed back out of his face, goatee trimmed extremely short and dark eyes covered in his sunglasses. Even from her position across the street she could see his whole, sturdy body shaking.

Oh Dave.

A truck sped past and he was whipped from view. Alice grabbed her arm in a vice like grip. "What the fuck is up with you? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

Emily smiled at her friend demurely. "Nothing. He just reminded me of someone I knew in Virginia"

As Alice led her away Emily threw one last glance over her shoulder. Hotch was helping the shaking Rossi to his feet and muttering to him. Thank you Hotch. Emily fought back the salty buds in her eyes and turned back to Alice and her mundane conversation.

I'm the ghost, she thought sadly.

. . .

Author Note:

Here it is lovelies. Sorry it took so damn long. Recently I was diagnosed with glandular fever and I am exhausted all the damn time so I apologise most profusely. I've been too sick to even think about writing but now that my fevers are starting to die down I'm back with a vengeance!
The Final Part of In Case Of Emergency is in the writing stage and I'm proud to say that being confined to my recliner with my laptop and seasons 1-5 of CM goodiness is AMAZING :)

So enjoy and please leave me lovely reviews. :)