~~~ Ook do you guys remember that episode where a whole bunch of kids had been killed in a fire, and the UnSub was making it look as though their parents were committing suicide? In that episode, Morgan says, "...I install these in all my properties," and Prentiss goes, "Properties?" So, he obvioulsy has more than one home. Please remember that episode while reading this. If you haven't seen that episode, I'm pretty sure it's season 3 "A Higher Power".

Anyway, this is the final chapter, so I'd like to thank all of you who read, reviewed, favourited, and/or subscribed. Thanks so much! :) I hope this ending is to your liking. Enjoyyy! ~~~


It's a gorgeous little house right in Washington. Small and white-washed, it has a sort of honesty about it that you can't miss. The door is painted a magenta shade.

Outside snow covers the ground, covers the steps up to your house, covers the rooftops of the surrounding houses. Christmas will be in one week, you think to yourself merrily.

You've spent a lot of time sleeping, showering, and eating. You missed having money. You missed modern technology. Every night you fall asleep, soundly, in a queen-sized bed with a warm, feather-stuffed duvet and five cushy pillows. Sometimes you can't fall asleep because killing William Lee is picking at your mind again, but now you have sleeping pills and you use them. You've cut your hair short, to just under your ears; you didn't really want it short but there were too many split ends and it's easier to take care of when it's not long. You have your makeup again - your eyeliner, mascara, cover-up, and lipstick, and you forgot how much you liked that, too. You forgot how much you missed dolling yourself up.

You still read the paper, but for a different reason now. You like keeping up with current affairs. And you have a new dream - newspaper reporter. You take night classes to learn journalism. During the day, you work at a restaurant nearby as a waitress; it's not glamorous, but it's something.

Sometimes you pry open your chocolate tin full of newspaper clippings. It sits under your bed now, waiting for those nights, those truly sleepless nights when not even the sleeping pills seem to quell your busy mind. It tells a story, beginning with a resignation, and ending with a death - Hailey's death.

WOMAN KILLED BY REAPER - REAPER KILLED BY MAN!

November 26/09 -- Hailey Hotchner (née Brooks) was killed in her home on November 25th. She was in witness protection to keep her and her son, Jack, away from the "Reaper" who stabbed Jack's father and her ex-husband, SSA Aaron Hotchner, last month.

Hailey, age forty-one, was shot shortly after the Reaper lured her into meeting him. Running into the house, SSA Hotchner proceeded to beat the Reaper numerous times. The Reaper, real name George Foyet, has been pronounced dead due to Agent Hotchner (no legal action will be taken at this time).

Their son was miraculously found unharmed. SSA Hotchner is set to take care of him.

Funeral arrangements for Hailey are being made for next week. It will be a ceremony for family and friends only.

~~~***~~~

Three months ago, Morgan walked with you to Espoire's body. He called an ambulance, but she was dead, and there was nothing they could do except confirm cause of death - drug overdose, as you suspected. And then, even though you were dirty and probably smelly, he pulled you into a hug and said, "Oh, Elle Elle Elle. What have you done to yourself?"

He got Espoire a proper burial. Not a ceremony - no one would have come - but he paid to have her put in a cemetery with a headstone reading just the one word (her "name") and the date she died.

Then he got you a proper house. One of his own, although you never knew he owned more than one. He insisted he pay for everything you needed. He bought you knew clothes, paid for a trip to the salon, bought necessary toiletries, paid the water and electricity bills. He even found you the waitressing job - "They owe me a favour," he explained.

He went so far as to honour your plea, although after everything he'd already done for you it was probably too much to ask: "Don't tell the team you've found me."

You're paying for the night school on your own though, with your meagre waitressing earnings. You don't get welfare cheques anymore. You no longer qualify. One day, though, you'll pay Morgan back. One day.

Morgan did insist on one thing however, and could not be swayed no matter how much you begged otherwise. Counselling. Twice a week. You really didn't think it would help, but it has. It's the reason you can sleep soundly, now. It's the reason you could break Morgan from his promise not to tell. It's the reason you attended Hailey's funeral.

(The last time you spoke to her - that horrific time you were trying to find Hotch to ask about Gideon.)

It's the reason you have "Girl Power Nights" (so named by Garcia) with Garcia, JJ, and the one who replaced you - Emily. Who, as it turns out, isn't even all that bad. She's actually nice, now that she's gotten over her initial wariness (not that you ever blamed her for being wary). It's the reason you have "Dorky Movie Nights" (so named by yourself) with Reid, watching old ("classic!" he insists) sci-fi movies which are, apparently, incredibly accurate for their time. It's the reason you can look at Hotch and know why he doesn't smile often and miss the not knowing why, but just relish in the times when he does smile, because that means the moment is all that more special.

He smiled when you offered to babysit Jack while they're out on cases. And although it's Hailey's sister Jessica who usually looks after Jack, sometimes you'll join her. You really like her. It makes sense, considering you always liked Hailey.

You know you killed that rapist. The fact is, it's not as simple as murder or self-defense. He was a misguided, bad man who raped women. That being said, you had no right to decide it was his time to die. But he's dead now. You just have to move on.

You thought you'd have to burn your newspaper clippings to get back to normal. But it was never a case of burning clippings or memories or connections to the outside world. To get back to normal, all it took was a small thing - help. Not from an ex-coworker, but from a friend.

In the end, that's why you could never let them go.

Because they're you're friends.

Sometimes you put up walls not to keep people out, but to see who cares enough to break them down. ~ Anonymous