Derek watched Emily try so hard to find her footing with him again after that, just as friends. There were no more movie nights at either of their houses, no nights where they pretended to fall asleep so they could end up in each other's arms on the couch together.

He had no idea what had made her react in such a way. She seemed to care as deeply about the children they encountered on their cases as he did. And he watched her with Declan, and she was great with him.

After a week of discomfort at work, where they were friendly, but uncertain with each other, Derek showed up at JJ's house on Saturday morning. He felt like he needed to talk with someone, and she seemed like the best option. He had a feeling that JJ knew a hell of a lot more than she ever let on.

JJ let him in. She made him coffee and then they went and sat on her front steps and watched Henry play in the yard.

"Did Emily talk to you about what happened last Saturday?"

JJ hesitated before nodding.

"I was stupid. I shouldn't have said that to her, about wanting kids."

"You weren't stupid. You were telling her how you felt. You were being honest." JJ leaned against his arm in a friendly gesture.

"Do you know why she reacted that way? It totally shocked me. I still can't understand it."

JJ was quiet for a long time. "I think Doyle impacted her in ways you don't understand. I can't even say I fully understand it. I can't put myself in her shoes because I've never had to live anything like that. But I will tell you this: You could have taken what happened to you as a teenager and gone either way, letting that impact you so that you didn't want children ever, or making what happened a reason to want children more, so you could provide that good life for him or her. You went one way with your inner demons, and she went the other way."

Derek understood what JJ as saying. He felt like there was a lot more there, but he understood why JJ was holding back. It was unfair of him to expect her to tell him Emily's secrets.

"I never really asked her about Doyle much. I wanted to pretend it didn't happen because that was easier," he responded.

"I know," she said softly. "And I understand."

"Do you think if I ask her, if she talks about it, it would help?"

JJ patted his back. "I don't know, Derek."

He didn't ask Emily. He thought about it frequently, but ultimately didn't say anything. The weeks passed and the discomfort around each other lessened. He wanted to wait until it felt completely gone before he talked to her.

There were clues he should have read better. All of a sudden there was talk about a brownstone in Dupont Circle. Had he been thinking clearly, he would have seen it for what it was - a half-hearted effort of hanging onto herself with all of them, a way to coerce herself into a permanency she didn't really feel.

Because any person, and most importantly Emily, would not walk away from his apartment that night like she did and then turn around and start looking to purchase a home of her own. She was trying to force herself to stick around, and he knew the moment he stood with her, after the inspection at that brownstone, that being there, being around him, was no longer what she wanted.

Before they could get totally back to a good place, before they could talk more, she told him she was leaving.


She struggled. It felt like she was living with two different personalities; the one forcing herself to stay and keep riding those waves and figure things out with Derek and herself, and the other personality looking to get away.

Emily felt JJ's eyes on her when she was on the phone with Easter, when Easter first proposed Interpol to her. She remembered shaking her head at JJ. And she remembered JJ's eyes, not totally believing her.

Several hours later, she sat there with Will as the seconds ticked down on that bomb, as he implored her to go, and she couldn't leave. She couldn't because she could never, ever face JJ if she walked away from Will in that moment. They were either both going to walk out of that train station, or neither of them were.

She cut the correct wire, and they lived, and in that moment she knew it was time for her to leave. She could never be what Derek wanted or needed, and sticking around was just going to end up being painful for both of them. They would become a ticking time bomb themselves, and she didn't want that explosion; she didn't want a terribly ugly end.

Emily told JJ first. On Sunday morning, when JJ was home with Will and Henry, she stopped by and asked JJ to take a quick walk. JJ had no clue that the gathering at Rossi's house that night was a surprise wedding, and Emily wasn't going to spoil that surprise.

She told JJ that day because JJ did not know that her mom was flying in and staying for the week with Henry. She didn't know that the team had all chipped in on a flight and hotel stay in North Carolina, on the beach for the week for them, as a wedding present. She didn't want JJ to find out she was leaving via a text message from someone else.

In the end, she didn't need to say much at all. JJ put her arm around Emily's waist and squeezed. "I don't know how to thank you. For Will. For not leaving him there. For saving him."

Emily nodded at that and then JJ squeezed her again. "You're leaving, aren't you? You're taking the Interpol job."

"I am."

JJ's tears came quickly and she wiped them away. "Why can't you just tell Derek the truth?"

Emily wanted to say it. She wanted to say, "For the same reason you're not telling Will the truth. Because it's easier." But she didn't, because she didn't want to spoil this day for JJ, and the circumstances were different.

She finally settled on words. "Because that would go one of two ways. Either we'd continue being friends and he'd meet someone else, and I don't want to watch that. Or, the more likely scenario - I would tell him and he would understand. Derek would be so understanding that he would try to love me at the expense of himself. He wouldn't push me and he'd give up on the idea of children and a family. And then, several years down the road, I wouldn't be enough for him anymore. I don't want him to live like that."

JJ conceded the likelihood of either of those outcomes. "I don't want you to go."

"You and I will be fine, Jayje. We'll talk all the time and you can visit me. I knew deep down the second I woke up in that hospital in Bethesda and you told me everyone thought I was dead that I wasn't going to get my old life back, no matter what happened. There are some things you just can't work your way back to, no matter how much you want to. I tried. Not as hard as I could have maybe, but I did try. And this is where I ended up."

"Derek's a mess," JJ said.

"He is. And I let him get that way as much as he allowed himself to get that way. When he stopped asking me questions, I let him pretend everything was fine. And even before that, I let him get so angry, passively waiting for questions instead of talking, that he became someone I didn't think he could be, and then let that go so easily. That's not totally on me, but in a lot of ways it is. I let him think that I completely handled everything thrown my way without major issue, when I didn't. I don't know how to backtrack from there, and I'm not sure it would matter in the end."

JJ nodded in understanding. She knew it all, Derek's mixed emotions, his anger, him being someone neither of them thought he could be, and then him swinging to the other side of the pendulum, a caring and loving and easy person.

He and Emily were both fucked up, and the onus was on Emily because she held the keys to all the secrets. She didn't know how to fix it in the right way. And maybe there was no right way.

"You are going to Rossi's tonight for the party, right?" asked JJ.

Emily smiled at her. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."


He tried to let Emily go as a friend would. He split himself in two immediately, the Derek who was in love with her was pushed down, while the Derek who was her friend surged to the surface.

He danced with her at JJ and Will's wedding. He laughed with her. He smiled while she danced with the team. He watched her smiling and thought to himself that he couldn't love her into being who she wasn't no matter how much he tried.

He hugged her when she left Rossi's that night. He was the best friend she needed through her last days at the BAU, through her packing. He tried to throw silent goodbyes her way without pressuring her into conversation.

They had a going away party for her at Rossi's a couple weeks later. She'd stay at Rossi's house that night, and then she was flying out the next morning. There were some tears that night from the team, and a lot of laughter, and, at least for Derek, way too much alcohol.

Emily spilled wine on herself and went up to the guest room to change. He excused himself to use the restroom, but really followed her, up the stairs and right to her doorway. He opened the door without knocking, just as she was pulling a new shirt over her head.

She spun when the door opened. "Jesus, Derek. You scared me."

He stepped towards her and kissed her and she let him. He tangled his fingers in her hair and deepened the kiss, and she let him. He released her after a few seconds. "You're leaving tomorrow. This is what we do, right? We get drunk and fuck each other goodbye."

Emily's eyes opened wide before the tears came, filling her eyes to impossible levels before finally falling down her cheeks.

"Derek," she whispered.

He shouted. It was something he didn't typically do, and something he'd never thought he'd do to Emily, but he shouted. "You knew you were going after Doyle! You knew you were going to die. You wanted to die! And you showed up at my office and acted like you had just had a bad date and wanted to screw!"

"Derek," she said more firmly. "Lower your voice, please. You're right. I did do that, and I felt guilty about it the entire time I was gone, and I never talked to you about it when I got back because I was afraid to. And I'm sorry."

The shouting continued. "Why me? Why not Hotch? Or Rossi? Tell me, Emily, if I hadn't been at the office that night, would you have fucked either of them if they were there and willing?"

Emily's voice raised then. "Screw you, Derek! You know I wouldn't have. You know it wasn't just about sex. You know that!"

He deflated at those words. He did know. And he knew what he was doing then, even though he was drunk; he wanted to get angry with her so it would be easier to let her go. He'd lived with the guilt of holding onto her wrists when she asked him to let go of her for months. And that wasn't him. And shouting at her wasn't him. He didn't want it to end like this.

He sank to the ground, leaning against the wall, and shook his head. "I did this all wrong."

She was there then, kneeling on either side of his legs, gentle lips on his face and arms around his back. "We both did."

He asked the questions then, not angry, but defeated. Spoken softly without accusation. "You knew you were going after Doyle and you came to my office to say goodbye, without actually saying it."

She looked him in the eye. "I did."

"Several days later, Garcia blew through the offices and we found cameras. Did you know about them? Did you tell JJ to have Hotch look? Did you know Doyle would be watching that night?"

She hesitated before nodding again. "Derek," she whispered again. "I planned on killing him and dying."

He saw it in her eyes, that she would have given him anything he wanted in that moment, at the expense of herself, whatever it was. And he realized through his alcohol-induced fog that this woman, the one who came back to him in September, and the one kneeling before him now, actually did love him. But he wasn't sure he wanted her love like this, the broken version of her that was too complacent, not the Emily he knew at all.

"I did this wrong. I did this wrong and now I've lost you," he breathed.

She shook her head and wiped her face. "It was beyond your control. All of the wrongs were already there, Derek. They were there long before Doyle resurfaced. I was at the BAU and getting closer to you without consideration of my past because Doyle was gone. And then he wasn't. I have mountains of things I need to deal with, and you can't walk me through them. You're a gentle man. You are a kind, loving and gentle man, and I took advantage of that in a lot of ways. I should have kept talking when you stopped asking questions and I didn't. I need to go. I need to get it right this time. I love you, but I can't get it right with you, because even in the end, I can't be what you want me to be."

He took in a shuddering breath. "But you can. I know you, and you can. Forget kids. I just need you to be yourself and I know what that looks like. I don't think you do right now."

Her hands were on his face. "I don't want you to change for me and I'm not who you think I am," she said sadly.

He clutched her then, and she held on. He cried until his energy was sapped and she stood. He felt her pulling on his hands, and he stood as well. She walked him to the bed and got him settled, pulling the blanket over him. He felt her feather-light kiss on his forehead. "You're going to be happy. You were destined to be happy, Derek Morgan. And I can't wait to hear about it. But I can't make you happy. You need to let me go this time."

He couldn't find words then, this version of her asking him to let her go. She wasn't dying. She was just choosing to live separately from all of them, from him. Her hands were on his face and he felt them there until he finally passed out.


Emily sat next to Derek for a few seconds while he slept. She took deep breaths and tried to calm herself, and then Rossi and JJ were in the doorway.

"We heard shouting," JJ said softly.

"It's fine," Emily replied. She sighed. "It's really okay."

"We can move your things to a different room," Rossi said.

"No. Just leave them. He's going to wake up at some point, and he's going to feel guilty when he does and sneak out. That's not how I want to leave things with him."

JJ nodded in understanding right away, but Rossi raised his eyebrow.

The party broke up on a low note, with sad looks and warm hugs goodbye. When everyone left, Rossi turned to look at her. "You okay, Emily?"

She smiled softly and patted Rossi's shoulder. "I am."

She laid next to Derek in that bed, watching him sleep for a couple of hours, a sadness inside her that was so all-encompassing she couldn't process; couldn't find tears or words. When he blinked his eyes open, she watched his moment of confusion, and then watched him turn and find her eyes in the faint light coming from the bathroom. The guilt was there and she reached her hand out and placed it on his chest, shaking her head at him.

"Don't feel guilty. Please. It's okay. I'm okay."

He kissed her forehead and pulled her against his chest. There were no more words. They had a tremendous amount of love for each other that had turned into a mess. She was leaving because she needed to, and he was letting her go.


He had mixed feelings about his special assignment at the Olympics in London. Garcia planned to travel with him, but she'd be staying at Emily's and he'd be staying in a hotel designated for security.

He almost backed out. He almost called Emily and said he wasn't coming. But his birthday came around and there was a package there from her. A book, and a card with a picture of a cupcake on it. There wasn't much written inside that card, just a "Happy Birthday. Love, Emily." But it was ultimately the decisive factor in him going to London. She still wanted to be his friend.

For eleven days in London, he only saw Emily and Garcia briefly, catching up for a quick dinner or lunch, and busy the rest of the time. But on his last night there, he stayed at Emily's flat. They had a nice dinner together, and Garcia, who had been out having a couple of beers with people she met at a sporting event, was ready for sleep by her second glass of wine. Emily and Derek helped walk her to the guest bedroom and got her settled.

Emily smiled at him a bit nervously and they put together his bed on the couch in the living room, seeming to not know what to say. They'd covered all the simple things during their lunches and dinners. He knew Interpol was going well for her.

He asked his questions delicately. "Why Interpol, Em? Why not just leave the BAU and stay more local. I know you like being near Declan."

Emily put a pillowcase on Derek's pillow and tossed it on the couch. "I do like being near him, but he's old enough to fly on his own. He's going to come out for a week at the end of August. I'll still see him, it will just be in different increments. As far as Interpol goes, I probably wouldn't have thought about it unless Easter made the offer, but once he did, I decided to take it because of something you said to me last October."

He raised his eyebrows at her.

"You were right," she said. "I was twenty-five years old and whether I could handle the assignments or not was besides the point. I was too young to be making that decision. Now I get to make sure no one else that young is put in that position."

Derek nodded and smiled at her. "You'll have to call or email me to let me know what books you're reading so I don't send you something for your birthday that you've already read."

She grinned. "I will. I should head to bed. It's a work day for me tomorrow."

Emily stepped forward to give him a hug and he held her tightly. This was it. He could visit, but this moment really felt like the end. He choked back the sob in his throat, not wanting her to feel badly. He kept his emotions in check, but she didn't.

The sob, and then the shaking that wracked her body was real. And so was the kiss he felt on his lips a second later, a kiss that was mixed with the saltiness of her tears.

He understood her in that moment for the first time. She'd started a relationship with Tom Kohler, and even if the story had been true about him working for the FBI, she went into that relationship knowing she wouldn't be in Indiana forever. He didn't know her story before or after that, but if he had to guess, there weren't any relationships that could in any way be permanent. Permanency scared her; she didn't deal with it well. They'd flirted around the edges of a relationship for years before Doyle resurfaced, and hadn't crossed a line. Maybe things would have ended differently if Doyle never came back, but in that moment, Derek didn't think so. She would have run away eventually.

He wasn't a pillar of relationship stability. There weren't many differences between the two of them, except one. He would have wanted permanence with her, and even if he'd never brought up the idea of kids, she probably couldn't have given it to him.

Emily Prentiss was content and felt safer with goodbyes.

He stopped thinking and kissed her back, hands in her hair and his body pressed tightly to hers. This was goodbye, but this time they both knew it. He pulled away from her lips and kissed the tears on her cheeks before finding her lips again.

They should have gone to her bedroom because Garcia was sleeping just down the hall. But she didn't move, and neither did he. If this was goodbye, he was in for the ride.

He didn't press her.

She removed her shirt, and only then did he remove his. She undid her bra, and only then did he help pull it from her arms. She kissed him again, her hands on his chest, and only then did he touch her. She got what he was doing. She pulled away and gave him a small smile, undoing her pants and pushing them down along with her underwear. She raised an eyebrow at him.

None of this was going to make tomorrow easier, but it wasn't going to make it worse either. He removed his pants and briefs and stood there, waiting for her to decide what to do. Her arms came around him then and she kissed his chest before finding his lips again.

She sat on the couch and pulled him down with her, until she was laying back and his body was over hers. This wasn't like the last time at all. There was no seductive smile, there were no words at all at the beginning.

He knew this was probably his only shot at this, doing this right. So he stopped being so passive and worshiped her like she deserved, kissing her again before moving his lips down her neck and chest. He wasn't fast or rough or teasing. He just felt in the moment, and he pressed open-mouthed kisses on her skin, over her breasts and nipples, over the two scars that were on her torso, and then down her body, over one hip and down her thigh before switching to the other leg and working his way back up.

The last time he'd had sex was with her nearly a year and a half ago, but the fact that he was barely containing himself became secondary. Because it wasn't fucking this time. This was making love, and he intended to do it right.

When he got back to her lips, there were fresh tears falling down the side of her face and he wiped them away before kissing her again, until the tears stopped and she was moving her hips and kissing him back.

She squirmed and tried to move her body into the right position, to get him where she wanted him to be.

"Emily," he whispered.

She opened her eyes and looked at him. He slid inside her then, slowly, and she raised her legs to accept him. "I love you, however or whoever you are," he said softly.

Her eyes opened wide and she looked like she was going to cry again, but instead reached her lips towards his to kiss him and hold on tightly as he started moving his hips. She fell into a rhythm with him. They were quiet, they moved slowly at first, and then they held on for each other. They waited until the pace quickened and their limbs were quivering, never saying a word but able to read each other, until finally they both came apart with muffled cries pressed against each other's necks.

When their breathing slowed, he thought she might run away from the couch and back to her bedroom, but she didn't. She stayed while he rolled to the side and pressed his back against the couch. She stayed while he gently pushed on her hip so she rolled on her side and her back was against his chest. She stayed while he adjusted the blanket and pulled it over both of them and settled his hand on her stomach.

They both caught their breath and there were no words for a very long time. He was almost drifting off to sleep when she finally spoke. He could feel her heart beating frantically while she whispered.

"My fifth month with Doyle, he took my birth control pills away. I was trapped with him because he kept me isolated. The first month, my period came and I cried in relief, but I told him it was because I was disappointed. The second month, my period didn't come. I cut myself so I could fake it, and I cried again. And that time he trusted me enough to leave for a day without me. I got out and contacted Easter and they extracted me the next day. I didn't tell anyone at all. The only person who knows is JJ and I only told her recently, when I was hiding in Europe and unsure if I was ever coming home."

Derek was in shock, but he squeezed her and kissed her shoulder. "What did you do?"

"The abortion I had when I was fifteen left me a huge mess. I almost went that route again, but I couldn't do it. After I got Declan settled, I went somewhere else for awhile, I gave birth and I put the baby up for adoption. I had to literally pretend to be someone else in my head during that pregnancy, and when I think about it, even a little, I get scared and panicked. I feel lost. And having a child, any child, would remind me every day. That's why, Derek."

Derek stared at the back of her head, massive amounts of sympathy rolling off him. He was at a loss for words.

He had objections at the tip of his tongue, a litany of "buts" and "what ifs" and "it's okay and kids don't matter, just come home," but he knew that wasn't why she was telling him. There was a reason why she waited until she was safely in London to say these words: because she couldn't face whatever reality he offered to her, no matter what it was.

And he knew it then. Carla Englen. A flight to Philadelphia in June of 2005, and then a flight to DC in November of that year, and somewhere in there she gave birth to a baby. A year in Ohio at a field office where she established a background, and spent time with the baby of the office coordinator there, not because she adored babies but because she wanted to desensitize herself and build up walls. When she reached that point, she was ready for her transfer to the BAU.

Emily had a whole story he didn't know, but he finally felt like he knew the important parts. He didn't pressure her or ask questions because nothing could change this. It was shocking and traumatizing, it happened, and this was who she was because of it. He wanted to leave her feeling loved, so he pressed several kisses to her shoulder and held on. "I'm so sorry, Emily. I understand," he whispered.

He drifted off to sleep at some point, but he wasn't sure if she ever did. All he knew was the next morning, when dawn was barely making an appearance, long before Garcia woke up, Emily turned in his arms. She pressed a kiss to his lips, and whispered, "Don't ever think for a second I didn't love you. I didn't even know what that was before you."

And then she was gone from his arms and down the hall in her bedroom. She left for work that morning before they left her flat. Garcia was up then and Emily hugged them and told them both goodbye like the night before never happened.

He didn't know what to do with his body the rest of the morning and on their flight. He was going back to DC, and Emily was staying in London.

All he knew how to do was to keep on living.