Hotch's POV-

He was flustered, confused, and annoyed. How long had the director really had Hastings undercover before all of this came to light? When he arrived back at

the bureau, he stepped into the elevator, pressing the second floor button that would take him to the directors office. Stepping in the lobby he greeted, Sandy

his secretary. "Is the Director in?" He asked, halting at her desk. "Um.. let me check." She began. Picking up her phone, she called into the office. "Director,

Agent Hotchner's here to see you… Okay. Yes sir." She hung up the phone looking up at him with a smile. "He can see you now." Muttering a quick thanks, he

walked to the office, knocking on the door and entering when he was beckoned. "Ah, Agent Hotchner. I'll assume that I owe the pleasure of your visit in

regards to Agent Hastings. How is she?" He asked, indicating that Hotch take a seat. Standing in front of the director's desk, Hotch spoke, his voice tense.

"She's alive. Though I'm sure you already know that." He said, his dark eyes staring down the director. "Have a seat, Agent Hotchner." The director ordered.

With a inaudible sigh, Hotch obliged. "Now, I am under no obligation to share this with you, and what I'm about to say will not leave this room. Agent Hastings

had been cleared to share certain details of her work with your team. Her CIA handler will be delivering that news to her today. Your agent placed herself in a

precarious position, when she met Jared Harding, otherwise known as Lazren Advends. Advends runs a sector of the RTR faction, I'm sure you've heard of

them." He had, and nodded slightly. "Now, Advends took a particular liking too Agent Hastings, and though we know a lot of his crimes, his faction has been

planning something big for a while. It was crucial that we get closer. I gave Hastings the orders to stay involved with him, forming a joint task force with the CIA

to catch him. She was given adequate information to deal with him and she accepted the job. Right now, we won't know if our mission has been compromised

and the extent of the damage until her handler speaks with her." The director finished, leaning back in his chair. Hotch took in a deep breath and released it.

Though he understood what a mess this was bureaucratically, and he could understand why the director had ordered Hastings to stay. He didn't particularly

like it. "Any questions Agent Hotchner?" The director prodded, and finally Hotch spoke. "I don't like Agent Hastings being in the middle of this, being forced into

a situation with a clearly dangerous man. She could have been killed. She almost was." He said, his tone blunt- to the point. "I'd like to be in on what my Agent

is ordered to do, as this progresses." He paused, "The BAU can be an asset to this case." The director looked at him for a few moments, before nodding slightly.

"Let's see what we're dealing with, Agent Hotchner. I'll have Sandy call you when the task force convenes to discuss our next step." Hotch nodded, not exactly

thrilled but happier to be in the loop, even if the loop was tiny. "Yes Sir." He said, standing. "Good day, Agent Hotcher. Take care of Agent Hastings. She's been

an asset." With that dismissal, Hotch left, his mind stewing with facts, he nodded in goodbye to Sandy and walked to the elevator. Letting out a deep breath,

he pushed the ground floor button. He could tell, that this was just the beginning. _


THURSDAY-

REMY'S POV

A knock at the door woke me up. Opening my eyesI squinted against the bright light of the room, glaring at the door, only to release a sigh when I saw a

familiar face. "You look like hell." He said, walking in throom. "Your fault." I said, my voice hoarse. Dylan smiled sadly at me and moved to sit beside me on my

bed. "I'm sorry, Remy. I didn't… I'm sorry." He said softly,reaching with his hand to trace my face. "Its fine, but my team…" I started. "You have clearance to tell

them what they need to know." He replied to me quickly."Will you stay?" I asked quietly. Relief flooded through me when he nodded. I shifted in the bed,

leaving room for him to lay back and turned on the tv. I flippedthrough the channels, not being able to settle on anything, when another knock at the door

caught my attention. "Come in." I called, unsurprised to see Hotch, Rossi, and the rest of the team. "Hey." I said, smiling at them as they greeted me. I didn't

miss the puzzled looks that they gave Dylan as he sat up on my bed. "Shut the door." I directed Morgan who walked in last. He shut the door, and I sat up

slowly in the bed, wincing but annoyed enough by Dylan's attempted help to glare at him as he tried to help me up. "We need to talk." I said, simply. "Just let

me tell you everything that I can, and don't interrupt until I'm done, please?" I said, and felt slightly better when everyone nodded. "Okay. About a year ago, I

met Jared at a bar. We talked, went our separate ways. The next time I saw him there, he asked me to dinner. I accepted. I was just getting into the BAU then.

About a month into both the relationship and the job, I was called to the director's office. That's where I met Dylan, CIA. Dylan informed me of who Jared really

was." I paused, glancing at Dylan. Who spoke up next, "Jared formerly known as Lazren Avends runs part of the RTR faction, an international terrorist

organization. He moved to DC, changed his name to Jared and formed himself a new identity. He got a job in the DC police department, reasons we're still

unsure of. When my team caught him leaving with Remy regularly, they looked her up. The fact that she was a federal agent and already his interest made

placing her undercover our most viable option. " He said, glancing back at me. "When the director approached me, tasking me to the force. I had no choice but

to accept it." I said pausing for a moment. "So you've been working with us and under-cover all at the same time?" Reid asked. I nodded. "He knew where I

worked. Once he started getting into his business, he counted on me to keep a blind eye from the FBI. So I fed information to both the FBI and CIA." I looked

around, watching as each of the team took in the information. The ring of Dylan's phone broke the silence, and he stood taking the call and excusing himself

from the room. "They kept you in even when he was using you as a punching bag?" Morgan asked, and I could tell he was pissed. "They weren't aware until

this week. I kept myself in." I said, looking down at the ground. "I thought I could handle it. I handled it." I said. Everyone was quiet. I wasn't sure what they

were thinking, and I was extremely grateful when the doctor poked her head in. "Agent Hastings, you can go home." She said cheerfully, handing me my

discharge papers to sign. I signed them quickly, taking a pair of scrubs from her to go home in.


She left smiling at each of us again, and I slid off the bed, limping over to the bathroom. Once I was in there, I pushed the door closed, locking it- feeling

immensely safer as the lock clicked. Limping to the counter, I stared atmyself in the mirror, counting the bruises on my face and neck. Slowly, and with a hiss of

pain, I took off the gown, watching it drop to the floor. My pale skinwas tattered with red, purple, and even older bruises. I stared at myself for a few moments

before pulling the shirt over my head, though all the bruises on myarms still showed. I leaned against the counter, slowly working the pants on, hissing

occasionally at the pain. My heart was hammering in my chest, my bodyached and slowly I started back at towards the door, trying to keep a mask of

composure on my face. They didn't need to know how much pain that was in. Iwas admittedly shocked that they seemed to be.. not pissed at me. I'd kept

secrets and from what I had heard from the past, secrets had caused huge rifts inthe team and this secret was huge. Why didn't they hate me? I opened the

door slowly, hobbling into the room. Dylan was back, and he watched me limp witha strange look on his face. An orderly brought in a wheelchair and I scoffed.

"I'm not using that." I said, glaring at him. "It's hospital policy, miss." The orderly said apologetically. I scoffed, glaring at everyone as they looked pointedly at

me. "This is ridiculous. I don't need it." I began shuffling towards the chair, thoughwhen I sank into it, I couldn't deny that sitting in it and being pushed felt ten

times better than walking. As I was wheeled down to the elevator, (underextreme protest) I was increasingly uneasy. It wasn't that all eleven of us had

crowded into the elevator, it's just that I was fixing to go back to where it all hadstarted. I was going back to the apartment where so much bad, had

happened to me.


After we had maneuvered into the main lobby of the hospital and I hadescaped the wheel chair (finally), we stood there, waiting to decide our next move. "I

need to go to our apartment." I said quietly with a look at both Dylan andHotch. "Is that really a good idea?" Blake asked quietly, glancing around the group.

"Remy… we can get your stuff for you." Garcia said. I shook my head. "No. Ineed to do it myself." I said with a near pleading look at Hotch. He stared at me for

a couple of minutes before nodding slowly, relenting to me. "Fine, but you're not going alone." He said quietly. Hotch, Rossi, Dylan, and I had all gotten into

Hotch's car, to drive to my apartment. The ride was quiet for the first couple of minutes, before Dylan spoke. "Uhm, before we get there. There is something you

should know." I glanced at him, and noted that Hotch and Rossi both were looking back as well. "I had our tech team go in and uninstall the camera's we had

placed, and they re-secured the door." He said, and it took me a moment to comprehend what that meant. That meant that some of the most intimated details

about Jared and I's lives were on tape. Somewhere in the FBI or CIA. Someone was watching them. Studying him. There was what equaled a porno of me

floating around. I felt heat rising to my face, as I turned to face Dylan slowly. His face was impassive which made it all the worse. "There were cameras….

Where exactly?" I said, biting my words out. "In every room, covering nearly every angle." He said, glancing away from me. I took a deep breath, aware of

Rossi watching me from the passenger seat and Hotch glancing at me through the rearview mirror. I leaned my head against the glass of the car, trying to calm

myself down. I felt Dylan move, and saw his hand reach for me, and instinctively a flinched away from him. He dropped his hand realizing what he'd done and

looked at me. "Rem.." He started and I interrupted him quickly. "Shut the hell up." He didn't say anything else, and I pressed myself against the door of the car,

my racing heart slowly slowing down. My nails dug into the leather arm rest of the door. I just wanted out of the car. The minute we pulled into the parking lot

next to my apartment complex, I pushed the door open, sliding ungracefully out, and limped away. "Rem!" I heard behind me but I ignored it, and sighed when

I heard Rossi speak. "Just… let her go." I stormed off, which may have been more intimidating if I wasn't limping, either way I was grateful that Rossi had either

enough fear of pissed off women or enough human profiling skills to know to hang back.


I pressed the elevator button, stepping inside and closing it before someone could join me. How many times had I rode this elevator as if my life was completely

normal? When it dinged, letting me know I was on the fourth floor, I stepped out into the hall. The unease I had been feeling at the idea of seeing this place,

building with every step. At my door, I turned the knob and as it opened, I wondered what Dylan had meant by 'securing the door'. The door swung open, and I

walked in, walking straight past everything and into what was once our bedroom. I could see clearly, the day we had both moved in here, how it had taken us

forever to unpack what little stuff we both owned because we had been so hell bent on christening every inch of the apartment. I remembered every time he

had laid me down on that bed, and how just for those moments I could forget the monster he was. I remembered the first time, and many times after that that

he had hit me. Each dark memory slowly over taking my brain. When I felt something grab my arm, I instinctually screamed and lashed out. Only to find myself

quickly pinned up against the way. "Remy!" I heard a voice shout, and I blinked, my eyes focusing on the dark eyes of David Rossi. I looked over his shoulder,

from where he had pinned me against the wall, his hands securing both of my arms and saw the rest of the team and Dylan. I blinked several times before

dragging my gaze back to his eyes, and instead of anger, that I had grown accustomed to seeing in Jared, I saw concern, sympathy. His hold loosened, but I

didn't move. I had lashed out at my team. "Remy, Are you okay, sweetheart?" He prodded gently, and I shook my head slightly, trying to gain composure over

myself. He stepped back, giving me room to escape, and I didn't move. I couldn't move. My heart raced, and I looked down at my hands and realized they were

shaking.

A flash of movement caught my eye and I flinched slightly, as a picture that was near my head cascaded off the wall. I stared down at it. It was a picture that

Jared and I had taken together at the zoo. It was one of my favorite places to go, and when we had first started dating he had taken it. We were happy there.

I stared at it for several moments, reaching down slowly to pick it up. I could feel everyone watching me. Turning away from them, I carried the picture with me

and stepped into my room, this time not stopping in the doorway. I opened my closet door, pulling out a duffel bag, and started tossing things in there. Rossi

stood at the door for a few minutes, before retreating down the hall. I didn't look up again until I heard a voice softly say, "Take the picture with you." I looked

up slowly, meeting Emily's eyes and saw that she had picked up the picture from the bed, handing it out to me. No one else was in there with us, I wasn't sure

if she had asked them to give us a moment or if it was good timing. I stretched my hand out, taking the picture and I stared at it for a few moments before

gently placing it inside. Looking up at her, I saw a sad look in her eyes and then I remembered that she had been in such a similar position. That was a small

comfort at least. "You can't help but get emotionally involved, sometimes." She whispered, touching my arm gently before turning away and leaving me alone in

the shattered remains of the life I had shared with a killer, a terrorist, but most importantly, a man- that at least some part of me loved.


A/N- That was a long one.