A/N would have had this up sooner but I burned my hand so couldn't type (sounds pathetic I know but considering I spent last night sleeping with my hand in a bowl of cold water...) Turned out fairly well in the end because I never planned for this chapter to turn out the way it did. I really hope you like it because I definitely do.

Clarifying when this is set: JJ went missing around the start of season 7, so I guess the majority of this story is actually set in a would-be season 10? So Emily's showdown with Doyle happened but after JJ faked her death she went back to the State Department.

Thanks to all the reviewers of the last chapter, (i-Linda, Guest, Casie01, Leslet, Cupcake, rmpcmfan and Jareau37) you guys keep me motivated :D

Enjoy


Emily sat down heavily on the bed, utterly exhausted. Hotch had sent the team back to the hotel to get some rest whilst he negotiated with Morris and Strauss. She didn't know why; to her sleep seemed impossible, despite the fatigue that plagued her- both mental and physical. Blake followed her into the room. She and Blake were sharing a room, as were Morgan and Reid, and Rossi and Hotch.

"Are you okay?" asked Blake, sitting down next to her. Emily just looked at her. "You're right," Blake said with a wry smile, "stupid question. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No… Yes… I don't know…" Emily murmured, not really sure. She sighed. No. She was Emily Prentiss. Queen of Compartmentalisation, High Priestess of Keeping-your-emotions-in-check. "No, you take first shower. I'll be fine, really" She said reassuringly as Blake squeezed her shoulder and nodded.

Alex had expected as much. Emily never talked about JJ's disappearance, or the circumstances leading up to it. "Okay, well if you ever need to talk, I'm here for you." Emily smiled as she grabbed her washbag and headed to the bathroom.

Emily waited until the bathroom door was locked and she could hear the shower running before reaching for her go-bag and digging straight to the bottom. She pulled out a tattered old case file. JJ's case file. The edges of the pages were worn and soft, smoothed by countless openings and turns of the pages.

Emily had learned over the last few years that you didn't need a brain like Reid's to memorise files perfectly; you just had to keep reading that file over and over again, scouring it for some detail you missed that last hundred times you read it, desperate to find something, anything, that could help you find your friend.

She opened the file and felt that familiar pang of grief and guilt. She traced her finger lightly over the small photograph that was paper clipped to the first page. Seeing her best friend smiling back at her was all it took to break the dam. She sniffed and quickly wiped away the tears that escaped her eyes but soon gave in as memories of the day everything changed came flooding back to her.

Something was wrong. She didn't know for sure but she couldn't deny the niggling doubt that gnawed at her. She had been in Paris for two months and since her arrival, every other day, like clockwork, she and 'Cheetobreath' played scrabble. The two hours of dialogue were about all that were keeping her sane.

It had been 5 days since their last game, and Prentiss was now on edge. She jumped as the phone rang. Then felt a short stab of panic. It was the phone. The one JJ had given her, that only she and Hotch had the number for, only to be used in an absolute emergency. Taking a deep breath to calm her breathing, she picked up. "Prentiss" She said smoothly. It felt good to say her name again.

"Emily." It was Hotch. "It's so good to hear your voice." He breathed, relief permeating his tone. She too, found a strange relief in hearing his voice after so long, even if it wasn't quite the same business-like voice that she remembered; she could hear a small hint of fear at its edge, but a hint was more than enough to put her on high alert.

"Hotch. What's going on? Is JJ okay?"

"You know?" Hotch said in disbelief. If Emily hadn't been afraid before she sure as hell was now.

"What? No, I don't. But we've been out of contact for 5 days. It's not like her. Hotch, tell me she's okay." Emily spoke at a hundred miles an hour, panic edging into her voice.

"She's gone, Emily. She's been missing for three days."

"What do you mean, gone? Oh God, it's Doyle isn't it? He got to her."

"We don't know that for certain, we've only just confirmed that she's missing. That said, it is a distinct possibility. In which case it would be best to assume that you are no longer safe in Paris."

Emily didn't need to be told twice. She was already firing up her laptop, ready to look up the next available flight to DC, whilst simultaneously tearing clothes out of her cupboard and throwing them into her go-bag. "Next flight out to DC is tomorrow morning at 10:15, fax me through copies of the case file."

"We won't be in DC, Prentiss, we fly out to Chicago in an hour."

"Chicago? I don't understand; I thought JJ was still based in Washington?"

"She is. I checked with her team at the State Department; apparently she took an unexpected week of leave- she didn't say where she was going or why. I had Garcia go through her financial and phone records; she found a debit transaction on a flight to Chicago O'Hare. We've already checked with O'Hare airport security and they confirmed that she definitely arrived in Chicago. Garcia also found a deposit on a hotel suite. Local LEOs sent to check it out reported that it had been ransacked and there were signs of a struggle."

"Oh God" Prentiss breathed, her heart in her mouth.

"That's not the worst of it, I'm afraid." Hotch continued, "Garcia ran a couple of checks; several women have gone missing in Chicago in the last month or so, all with blond hair and blue eyes."

Emily didn't know what to think. Had it not been for Doyle's cat-and-mouse games with her just a few months before, she would have said that this didn't feel like Doyle, he wasn't one to beat around the bush. But now she wasn't sure.

"Okay, send me what you've got so far." She reeled off the number of the fax machine she had bought not three weeks before. "Meet me at O'Hare International tomorrow at 12:45."

"The files are on the way. I'll see you tomorrow. How do you want to play this?"

Emily paused. She knew he wasn't talking about JJ's disappearance. As far as the team was concerned, Emily Prentiss had died 10 weeks ago. They had buried her, and now walked past her portrait every morning.

"I have no idea. I haven't let myself think about the possibility of coming home. Even if I had, I never would have imagined it would be like this." She admitted.

"It's not ideal…" Hotch trailed off. He too had no idea what the best way to deal with this situation was. The only thing he could predict was that team's reactions, and even then not with much certainty.

"Hotch?"

"Yes?"

"We'll find her. We'll bring her home."

Hotch didn't say anything for a few moments. "I'll see you tomorrow, Emily."

Prentiss let out a bitter laugh at the memory. How naïve she had been. And now here she was, almost three years later, seemingly within reaching distance of her friend and yet at the same time, she had never felt further away.


Crow looked down at the woman sleeping in the cage next to his. She tossed and turned restlessly, but that was not unusual. Ghosts did not sleep peacefully, not even Smiler. He shivered slightly as the cold of the Ghosts' quarters seeped into his aching muscles. Jay slept with both of their blankets wrapped around her. They had a deal: whoever was on watch passed their blanket to whoever's turn it was to sleep. Jay always took first watch. They'd swapped over about two hours ago.

He looked down at her again as she moaned in her sleep. Reaching through the bars, he stroked her cheek to sooth her, as he did every night. As she did every night for him. She quieted, but a slight frown still distorted her features.

"I have everything I need from her. I need her to disappear. Permanently. I know you can make that happen." Even though her brain was hazy due to the pain and the drugs he had pumped into her, JJ easily recognised that soft, Irish accent. Almost immediately, the crushing weight of agonising guilt came crashing back down on her.

She had broken.

For two days she had held out. A pathetic, measly two days was all she could take before she had given her up. Given up her best friend to the monster from her past.

She moaned in pain as Doyle kicked her forward onto the concrete floor, the cool surface providing no relief for the burns and cuts that littered her battered body. She coughed weakly, her throat still raw from the waterboarding, as someone used a cane to roll her over onto her back. She opened her eyes the tiniest bit to see a tall man looming over her.

"As you know, Law Enforcement is my speciality." He said. JJ didn't recognise him. He had a deep and gravelly voice, as though he'd smoked one too many packets of cigarettes. "As it happens, I have a meet set up with a Lieutenant in a couple of weeks and this one is just his type. How much do you want for her?"

"She's free of charge. Maximising your profit is the least I can do given the circumstances." Doyle replied easily.

"And that is much appreciated. Especially given how you've done half of my job for me by the looks of things." The man said, using his cane to gesture to the injuries covering her exposed flesh. "What did she do to warrant that?"

Doyle smiled. "She hid something from me. I want it back." He said cryptically.

The other man nodded, happy to accept such a vague answer given the high quality product on offer. "Very well." He stopped, and whistled loudly towards a man hovering just outside the door to the room. "Load this one into the van. Put her in with the others when we get back to base."

"Can I just have a moment with her before you leave?" asked Doyle suddenly. The other man nodded again. Doyle crouched down next to her and yanked her head up by her hair, so that ear was just centimetres away from his lips.

"I'd love to stay longer, but I have a meeting in Paris" He hissed. "How long do you think Emily will last before she gives in? She's a tough girl, stronger than you at least, so I'm going to go with five days. Do you know what I'm going to tell her on that fifth day? When she looks up at me in despair, begging for death? I'm going to tell her the truth. That she was wrong to trust you. That you were too weak to keep her secrets. And then… I'm going to kill her. Slowly. Slowly enough that she has time to truly hate you before she dies."


Damn that was a fun one to write :) as always please review, reviews keep my plot bunnies hopping