A/N:

I'm really, really sorry that it took me so long to update! I hope you're not mad at me, but I was in a bad mood and had a severe writer's block. Even now I am still not entirely satisfied with this chapter, but enough is enough, so... this is it.

Since I for once didn't respond to those who reviewed the last chapter individually, let me thank you in this way: greengirl82, charleantheresas, Nena Cero, SabrinaPrentiss, HPforever-after, lilylynn (a new name on the review list, welcome!) – thanks a lot for your review and your support. At the end of the day it's the knowledge that there are people like you out there – reading and enjoying this – that makes the effort worthwhile. I hope you'll also let me know what you think about this chapter. So R&R please!

There will be one more chapter, kind of an epilogue, and then the story will be done. And I hope this time you won't need to wait another whole week, but that I will somehow manage to write the last chapter and put it online within the next couple of days. Keep your fingers crossed. :)

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. Criminal Minds belongs to CBS. I own nothing but a vivacious imagination.

They have just reached the parking block when they hear and feel the explosion.

Hotch had still been on the phone, trying to calm Garcia, when Reid called first Morgan and then Emily. Morgan hadn't answered and the call had gone to his mailbox, but Emily's phone... rang. At first they didn't understand, until Reid detected her phone under the cushion on the sofa, saw the message that she had typed to be read on the display by whoever picked it up and handed it over to Hotch.

Parking block. Doyle. Now. Wait until Garcia is safe. There had been no hesitation on Hotch's side. He threw the handset to Reid with a gesture that said that he was supposed to take over talking to Garcia. Then he ran out of his office.

Fortunately at this stage it had taken not more than one or two more minutes until the bomb was defused and Penelope was safe, so that Reid was able to follow Hotch.

And here they are, ready to face their nemesis, when the world suddenly is shaking and parts of the ceiling come off. It only lasts a few seconds. They don't move, frozen in complete darkness, and then the emergency lighting comes on, accompanied by the acute sound of the alarm.

The parking block is not severely damaged or in danger of collapsing, although there is debris all over. It is a huge area and they just have climbed over one or two rubble mountains when...

"Over there!" Reid shouts, pointing at a body that lies motionless on the floor.

Dust whirls around and they have a miserable sight so that Hotch can't make out whether it's the body of a man or a woman. It's only when they take a closer look that they recognize Morgan and two things hit Hotch at once – the pool of blood and the relief that it's not her. He cringes because of the cynicism. Of course he is in no way glad to have found Morgan under these circumstances. If he had to choose between him and Emily though...

"I have a pulse," Reid says, securing the artery with his belt, while Hotch is checking the surroundings. With Morgan hurt and unconscious, Doyle can't be far away. And where Doyle is, there is also...

"Emily," Reid interrupts his thoughts. "Do you think she's with Doyle?"

"I don't know what happened here," Hotch growls. "But I'm dead certain about that."

Right in this moment Morgan groans and regains consciousness. At first he has trouble focusing, but then he distinguishes Hotch and Reid.

"He...," Morgan falls into a fit of coughing. "Doyle has her. He has Emily. He shot me and knocked me down."

He states the obvious. His wound, his unconsciousness and Emily's absence already told this story.

"Can you move?" Hotch addresses Morgan. He has lost a lot of blood, but Reid's pressure bandage stopped the bleeding and Morgan is a badass.

"With some help, yes, I think I can," Morgan responds as expected. Just now he notices the damage and the emergency lighting.

"What happened?" he asks. "I think I heard an explosion just when Doyle knocked me down."

"We don't know yet," Reid answers. "We were here when it happened."

Hotch helps Reid to set Morgan on his feet.

"Bring him out of here," he orders Reid. "Make sure he gets medical attention."

"What about you?" Reid queries, although he knows, and the look Hotch gives him in return confirms it. They came here to fight their nemesis and Hotch won't leave before this fight has taken place.

"Hotch," Morgan grabs his arm. "Emily... almost sacrificed herself to save my life." He has to swallow hard when the memories come back and the emotions threaten to overwhelm him. "I accused her wrongly, thought she wanted to run off, but..."

"I know," Hotch calms him. "She sent a message." He hesitates briefly before he goes on quietly, almost talking to himself, "I would have preferred her to settle it differently, but obviously this was the only way she could do it."

Hotch slaps Morgan gently on the shoulder and watches him walk away with a limp, supported by Reid's slender figure. Morgan is still dizzy and weak, but he will make it. They found him just in time.

He takes a deep breath, turns around and looks in the vastness of the parking block. Doyle is waiting for him here somewhere. Hotch feels it in his bones.

Emily regains consciousness to the constant and annoying sound of an alarm that gives her a headache. She tastes dust and when she opens her eyes, a reddish light illuminates the surroundings – the emergency lighting.

Then she remembers – Morgan lying unconscious next to her on the floor, Hotch's voice calling her name and Doyle approaching her. She sits up with a jerk, but when a wave of nausea floods through her, she lies down again. It's only now that she really takes in her surroundings – the jacket that was placed under her head to make it a bit more comfortable for her to lie on the hard concrete floor, the room she's in. Not the parking block anymore – a room. There are some shelves with tools; apart from this the room is empty.

Aside from her head, several body parts hurt too – apparently she couldn't cushion her fall when she was knocked unconscious by a chunk of debris and fell down beside Morgan on the floor. Morgan... Emily sits up again slowly and this time she can control the nausea. No Morgan. She listens. No Hotch calling for her. Then she hears steps approaching her and her hand goes instinctively to her holster – an empty holster as it turns out. The steps come closer and she recognizes Ian's face. He wears no jacket anymore and there is blood on his cheek. Obviously he also was hit by a chunk of debris. She doesn't want to think about other explanations why his face is smudgy with blood – especially not ones that include Morgan's or Hotch's fate.

Doyle looks down on her and she doesn't like the imbalance, wants to get up to draw level with him (at least approximately) in height, but he cowers before her instead and dabs off her head wound carefully. It hurts; she probably needs stitches.

"Where are we?" she breaks the silence, looking around again. "This looks like a storeroom, but you said...," she stops. Of course he didn't tell her the truth earlier. This is part of his plan and he couldn't let her know. She nods as the realization dawns on her. He must have carried her over here, meaning he left Morgan behind. The fear is raw and painful. Why isn't Morgan here? What did Doyle do to him? It scares Emily to pose the question, dreading Ian's answer. There is no other option though. She has to know.

"What about Morgan?" she eventually asks all the same, holding her breath.

"He'll live," Doyle responds after a short pause, perhaps considered lying to her just for the effect, for the pain it would have caused, even if she can't be certain that this is the truth. With this man she can never be certain about anything. "They probably found him by now."

He doesn't specify who they are, but Emily strongly assumes that he is talking about Hotch and Reid. So she wasn't mistaken. She heard Hotch's voice. And if Doyle knows that he has Reid with him, he saw them too. They can't be far away. The storeroom probably is somewhere in the parking block. Doyle didn't have that much time to flee and wouldn't have been able to carry her unnoticed through the building.

Suddenly the alarm stops. The silence is a relief, although the reddish light still adds to the surreality of the whole situation.

"The explosion was your work," Emily states, not doubting it.

"In the lobby," he answers with a shrug, not caring whether innocent people were hurt or worse. "It was part of the plan. A distraction to keep your team busy, until...," he trails off. Until he would have had enough time to take her along. A plan he didn't put into action for some reason. Emily wonders why she's still here and not somewhere on the road in a getaway car with him. Then she realizes. When Hotch and Reid appeared, Doyle knew that she had told them her whereabouts and what was about to happen. Something that caused him to change his plans, to stay in this trap.

He still is dabbing off the blood of her head wound, perhaps just looking for a pretense to be close to her.

"You took my gun," she says. Another statement. It's like a check list. The altered surroundings. Check. The explosion. Check. The missing gun. Check.

This remark seems to trigger something though. Doyle avoids her eyes and shifts uncomfortably before he responds, most likely reminded of her threat to kill herself if he doesn't let Morgan go.

"Couldn't let you keep it," he responds casually, too casually. Apparently by taking it, he wanted to make sure that she can't hurt herself rather than that she can't hurt him.

"So what next?" Emily slightly touches his hand that holds the cloth, soaked with her blood by now. She is not afraid of him. An inner calm fills her. The endless circle of repetition that affected their lives during the last months or even years will finally come to an end. "Is this goodbye?" she whispers and her eyes find his.

In spite of her inner calm she suddenly feels the urge to put some distance between them. Emily gets up clumsily, still a little wobbly on her feet, but she manages to stand and he gets up too. There's no way Doyle will allow her to look down on him.

The look on his face changes. His eyes become softer and his hand touches her jawline.

"Yes, I think so," he says wistfully and she has never seen him so sad and defeated. Then the expression in his eyes darkens and his hand slips down to her throat, clutching it, but without too much pressure. It feels uncomfortable and slightly threatening. Emily is not scared though. Yet. Nevertheless he has made his point. He is in charge here.

Emily tries to suppress the need to swallow – a physical response to ensure that she is still able to breathe, to live. Instead she holds his gaze.

"What would be your last words?" Ian asks quietly – a question that can be interpreted in various ways. Her last words if this is goodbye? Or her last words if he...? As if to underline the fact that it is up to him to make this decision, Doyle increases the pressure, strangles her a little so that she is reminded that he could kill her with his bare hands anytime. He won't allow her to shoot herself, but it's a different matter when he makes the decision about life or death. She is already dizzy because of her head wound and feels consciousness starting to fade again. The moment he realizes this, he loosens his grip. He has demonstrated his power. No need to exaggerate.

This is the situation Emily had been waiting for earlier. A chance to get close to him, to distract and then disarm him. Morgan was in the way back then. Right now she realizes that she won't stand a chance. Even without a head wound he is much stronger (and proved it several nights ago), so putting up a fight won't do her any good. In fact she doesn't even feel the need to put up a fight. She shares the sadness she saw in his eyes. They've come a long way and as much as she despises him for what he did to her and her team, she can't deny that a part of her needed him in the past to help her achieve a balance between herself and Lauren when no-one else could. These days are over though. Hotch knows everything and proved that he is able to handle the Lauren part of her persona, actually wants to deal with it. So this is goodbye indeed.

Emily steps closer, the distance she longed for just minutes ago no longer required. "My last words to you...," she whispers. "...would be...no words." She kisses him softly and is surprised when he doesn't react as she expected him to. He doesn't grab her or hug her to himself roughly. He doesn't even intensify the kiss to make it more passionate, more them. It's as if he just accepts what she offers him, well aware that this is their last time. Kissing her back, holding her, but demanding nothing that she doesn't offer freely.

She knows that it is wrong to kiss him, let alone feel the way she does, but she can't help it. There are no appropriate words to say goodbye. Her hands find their way to his hips and she leans against him, wanting to feel him. As a sideline she registers that the gun in his shoulder holster is within reach. Emily doesn't know where he put her gun. Perhaps in the ankle holster and maybe she would even manage to get hold of one of the guns, if she pushed this... kissing thing any further. But that's not what she wants. That's not how she wants them to say goodbye.

There is something about his demeanor that seems to suggest that he is no threat anymore. He could have ambushed Hotch and Reid and shot them point-blank. But he didn't. He could have run off – with or without her. But he didn't. He wants to say goodbye to her – that much she knows. But she is uncertain what he has planned afterwards. The whole scenario has a finality that is somehow unsettling. Ian Doyle doesn't walk into a trap on purpose, unless... he never intended to walk out again.

Emily breaks the kiss with a gasp when the realization hits her, the question written all over her face. What are you doing? Until now she thought that this was about stopping Doyle from killing her team or kidnapping her. Now this might be about stopping him from killing himself – if she wants to stop him that is – leaving the even more unsettling question unanswered whether he intends to claim her life.

She has already been there, done that. Just when she decides that he is no threat to her anymore, that she doesn't need a gun to protect herself, the situation changes drastically and she wishes she wouldn't have to confront him unarmed. It was like this the night at her apartment and it is like this now.

Ian senses the change in her behavior and – if possible – his eyes darken even more. He knows that she's on to him.

Emily doesn't move. Her hands still rest on his hips, close to the gun in his holster, but not daring to make an – most likely futile – attempt to take it from him. His hands rest on her shoulders and he leans his forehead against hers in a tender gesture. Then he pulls away and turns around in a sudden movement that reflects how difficult it is for him to break the physical contact and leave her alone. Doyle walks quickly to the steel door, while Emily is trying to remember whether she ever saw it before, whether this damn storeroom is on the level where Hotch's SUV is parked, but she can't tell for the world.

Just when she ponders how to get past Ian and through that door, he opens it and over his shoulder she can see a figure approach the storeroom – Hotch.

With an infuriated yell Emily throws herself forward and lunges at Doyle. She is too late though. With an almost casual movement Ian steps out of the door, slams it in her face and locks it.

One or two seconds. If she had been a little bit faster, not handicapped by her head wound and the still blurry vision, she would have made it. She throws her body against the solid door again and again desperately, aware that she won't be able to kick it in or unlock it, screaming herself hoarse when she calls out Hotch's name over and over, drumming her fists against the steel causing her knuckles to bleed. But no matter what she does, no matter how much she wants, needs to get out of this room – Emily is doomed to wait until the door will open again. It's only then that she will see the face of the man who survived the fight that takes place outside right now.

Fate has a weird sense of humor. Hotch watches the door of the storeroom being opened from the inside, detects Emily standing behind Doyle, just to lose sight of her again. The last thing he sees is the blood on her face and the scream her mouth forms when she realizes that Doyle is locking her in. She's alive, he calms himself. And nothing else matters.

They both have pulled their guns out in an instant and freeze a few steps apart in a stand-off. Hotch is panting heavily. He has been running around, climbing over wreckage, for a while now. Doyle doesn't even sweat.

"You won't make it out of the building," Hotch states. He isn't certain what Doyle is up to, although he probably wouldn't be here anymore, if he really wanted to run off. Perhaps this is why he doesn't react at all to his statement. Anyway it is the first rule of a negotiation – make contact, bond with your opponent. It's an automatism kicking in, but Hotch's blood is up when he thinks of bonding with Ian Doyle. There is only one reason he is here and he won't need his negotiation skills for it. The explosion destroyed the regular power supply and Hotch is pretty sure that the cameras in the parking block are not working at the moment. He has come thus far. Now he wants it all. He wants to see Doyle dead and still keep his reputation, his job. No cameras, no proof.

Even if Ian is no profiler, he notices the change in Hotch's eyes and in his body language. Despite the fact that they are mortal enemies, he respects this man, considers him to be a worthy adversary. Nonetheless he didn't bargain on what happens next.

Doyle isn't the only one who can read facial expressions and body language. Hotch senses that Doyle won't shoot him – just like he won't shoot Doyle. None of them wants it to be that easy. Therefore he puts down his gun and takes off his jacket, registering the surprised but approving flicker in Doyle's eyes right before he mirrors his actions and also puts his gun down.

Albeit the urge to knock down Doyle with his bare hands is overwhelming, it's theory and Hotch isn't the man to put his thoughts into action unless there is a specific justification. Something Doyle offers him willingly.

"Hope you did it with her rudely last night," he provokes Hotch blatantly. "She likes that."

It's easy to figure it out. Doyle wants him to start the fight. But right now it doesn't matter. Hotch gladly accepts the invitation.

The first blow hits Doyle's nose and the quiet crack lets Hotch shiver with satisfaction and anticipation. Yes! That's exactly what he came here for.

They are equal in strength and pugnacity. Doyle might have better abilities as a street fighter, but Hotch is trained in close combat. It's blood and sweat and bones threatening to break. They stumble and fall, throw each other against walls and down on the floor. None of them is superior to the other. As the fight continues their movements become slower; physical strength eventually fades. Giving up is no option for none of them though.

When they pause briefly to take a breath, they can hear Emily's muffled cries. They can't make out the words, but she probably can hear them fighting and it must be pure torture for her not to be able to see what is going on outside.

"You don't know her," Doyle gasps, when Hotch is distracted by Emily's voice. He could have easily used this moment to his advantage, taking Hotch out, but he doesn't. Instead Doyle ducks, avoiding another of Hotch's hard punches, before he adds, "Not like I know her."

"I know everything I need to know," Hotch can't resist the bait. He is aware that this is going to hurt Doyle much more than his punches. "I met Lauren last night. She is no longer your dirty secret."

Even if Hotch's words were meant to deliberately hurt and divert Doyle, he didn't expect him to snap. With an almost inhuman roar he attacks Hotch and it's only now that Hotch realizes how deeply this man desires and loves the woman in the next room – Lauren, Emily, whatever he calls her.

"I don't have to threaten the people she cares about to make her sleep with me," Hotch antagonizes Doyle even more and relishes the taste of revenge on his tongue. "I don't have to lock her in to make her stay with me."

They are so caught in their clinch, in their battle of words, that they don't notice Reid has come back. He brought Morgan into safety, made sure that he received first aid by their emergency medical service that is always on duty and called for back up. It will take the back up a while to get there though. The lobby is completely destroyed, the access to the building difficult, and it has to be ensured first that there are no more bombs buried under the ruins before they send anyone in. The explosion already cost two of the security guards their lives. Reid neither wanted to get out of the building nor to wait for the back up eventually being allowed to come in. Their team is falling apart, more than half of them injured, and he couldn't stand the thought that he had to leave Hotch alone. They are the only ones who are not injured. But when he watches Doyle and Hotch fight from a distance, he realizes that he has to correct this thought. Actually he is the only one without any visible injuries. Hotch, albeit alive, looks pretty bruised and bleeding. As for Emily – Reid recognized her voice. Obviously she is locked in the storeroom. Since she for sure didn't decide to stay there by her own choice, he assumes it's a safe bet that she is somehow injured too. Otherwise she wouldn't have allowed this to happen.

Reid hides behind debris and waits for the right moment, then sneaks up to the storeroom and unlocks the door. Emily practically tumbles into his arms, stumbling over her feet in the effort to get out as soon as possible. When she sees the two men – bathed in blood and staggering – she freezes.

"Give me your gun," she whispers to Reid. If this ends badly – and she is almost certain that it will – she doesn't want him to be the one who has to pull the trigger. He hands it over to her without hesitation, apparently sharing her estimation and approving of it.

It's only now that Hotch and Doyle observe that the door of the storeroom is open and see her and Reid.

Doyle has staggered back a few steps after Hotch's last punch that followed his words so he is closer to Emily than Hotch. When Doyle turns around and shortens the distance even more, Hotch is ready to lunge at him, but the soft click, as Emily cocks the gun, stops him dead in his tracks.

"Stay back," she hisses through gritted teeth and it is directed at Reid as well as at Hotch. "Let me do this my way. I need to finish this – once and for all."

Reid doesn't move. Hotch, though, doesn't want to submit to Emily's will. He came here to kill Doyle with his bare hands. And Doyle is much too close to her for his taste. The gun practically is in contact with his chest. And as reassuring as this might be, it also means that their bodies almost touch. A sight he doesn't handle well. At all.

"Aaron, please...," Emily says and her words and the way she utters them force Hotch to finally stand still. Her eyes hold Ian's gaze. She hasn't looked away since she trained the gun on him.

Knowing something and seeing the proof for it with your own eyes are two entirely different things. Ian knew that Emily loves Hotch. But seeing it in her eyes right now, hearing it in her voice goes so much deeper than the simple knowledge. He experiences the unleashed pain of rejection, becomes aware that it has always been like this. Whatever he was to her, he never had this. At least it makes the execution of the needful easier in a way.

"I'm going to kill him," Doyle murmurs so that only Emily can hear his words. "This will be my masterpiece."

"Don't think I won't do it," Emily warns him, surprised that she manages to keep her voice even. "Just because I didn't pull the trigger some nights ago at my apartment, don't think I won't do it now."

Like Doyle she speaks in a hushed voice so that Hotch can't understand her words. Anyway Hotch can barely restrain himself. It drives him insane to see her standing so close to this dangerous man, who was her lover when she was undercover, who forced her into a sick relationship, who attempted to rape her. Yet he accepts her wish to bring this to an end, accepts that she needs the finalization more than he needs revenge.

"Yes," Doyle's voice is down to a whisper. "I know." He pauses and his gaze gets even more intense. "So do it."

Emily stares at him. So this is goodbye...

By now she hates Ian. For all he did to her and her team. She never loved him, but she needed him once. She often wanted to kill him. Wanting it and doing it, though...

"No," she shakes her head imperceptibly.

"Want to know my last words to you?" Ian asks.

This time she doesn't have a response, has to blink away tears. Emily knows what is about to happen. Yet when Ian grabs her hand that holds the gun, it feels as if she should have been able to prevent it, as if she failed.

"Pull the damn fucking trigger," he says and does exactly that, forces her to do it. Perhaps she struggles to hamper it, perhaps she would have done it anyway. Now she'll never know.

Hotch and Reid move at the same time. When they see Doyle go for the gun, they both lunge at him. However Doyle is already dead, before they reach him, before his body hits the ground.

"Are you okay?" Emily rather reads Hotch's lips, since hearing is somewhat difficult, the gun shot still ringing in her ears. Hotch gently takes the gun and gives it to Reid. Her gaze follows his actions and comes to a rest on her own hands, on the blood that spattered on them and on the rest of her body. Ian's blood. Hotch caresses her face, studies the head wound concerned. The more distanced she becomes, the more he is afraid that she will go into a shock.

Want to know my last words to you... Emily knows that she should feel relieved. But she feels like a hollow shell instead, as if she has lost herself, as if she is under water and can't breathe. Doyle has defined her for too long. Now that he is gone, it feels as if she is shattered into a thousand pieces. She saw it coming and even if the outcome is all right, not all ends justify the means.

Emily looks hesitantly down on Ian's body, his dead eyes staring into nothingness. Even if she did everything to keep him away from his son, Declan lost his father today and this fills her with an endless sadness. She knows that it is better for Declan to be raised by another family and that she also will heal eventually. Only now and here it doesn't feel like this. She searches Hotch's eyes, is finally able to focus on him.

"No," she says hoarsely. "I'm not okay."

Her hands desperately clutch at him and Hotch all but has to catch her from falling when her legs suddenly turn to jelly. They end up in a weird embrace. Hotch holds her close, but she doesn't give in completely, holds her arms like a barrier in front of her as if trying to push him away, while she is clinging to him at the same time. It's only when Emily speaks again that Hotch realizes she isn't pushing him away – she is fighting against herself, pushing herself to say the words he never has heard from her before and probably will never hear again. "Help me."

To be continued