Tis time to wrap up some lose ends. Enjoy.
Emily dragged her tired and aching body into her apartment and up the stairs to the bedroom. On the way she paused to open the bathroom door. She peeked in to discover the kitten doing his impression of a statue on the countertop.
She couldn't help but smile. "Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Buddy. But I didn't bring home your favorite pounce toy." The black kitten let out a loud audible sigh.
Chuckling, Emily made her way into the bedroom. She dropped the crutches on the floor with a loud clatter and collapsed face first on the bed. She sighed in contentment. It had been a long couple of days and she was exhausted.
JJ had shown up at the crime scene shortly after she had finished giving her statement to Detective Crane, solving Emily's dilemma of how she was going to get home.
"I see that Garcia has sent in the Calvary," Emily said with a chuckle.
"Emily, are you all right?" JJ asked somewhat breathlessly, having run all the way from the car. She wanted to engulf the brunette in a big hug but knew that wouldn't go well. The moment she had stepped out of the meeting, Penelope had corralled her and sent her here.
She almost answered with a fine but her throbbing ankle told her otherwise. "Almost," she admitted.
The blonde's eyes widened. "What's wrong?"
"I think I messed up my ankle," she said with a sheepish smile. "Can you drive me to the doctor tomorrow? I promised Hotch that I would go."
"Maybe Dr. Coffey can squeeze you in today," JJ commented and whipped out her phone.
Emily stared at her in disbelief. "You have my orthopedic doctor on speed dial?"
"Uh huh." She punched in the correct number sequence. "Based on your stubborn streak, I was afraid you might go and do something stupid so I wanted to be prepared."
"But it was a good stupid," she protested.
"It was a very good reason, but still stupid," the blonde countered.
With Emily glowering the background, JJ carried on the conversation with the receptionist. "Hello, this is Jennifer Jareau and I'm calling for Emily Prentiss. It appears she has re-injured her ankle and I was wondering if Dr. Coffey could see her today. I'll ask." She turned to Emily. "What did you exactly do?"
"I was walking on it," she said grudgingly.
After frowning in disapproval, JJ said into the phone. "She walked on it. Yes, I'll hold. I'm on hold," she said to the brunette.
"Obviously," Emily retorted with a smirk. "I can hear the music all the way over here."
JJ wrinkled her nose at her. "She's going to ask the doctor personally. Yes, I'm still here," JJ said, turning her attention back to the phone. "No, that will work out perfectly. We'll see him there."
Emily arched an eyebrow. "And where exactly are we going?" she asked when the liaison had hung up.
"We're meeting Dr. Coffey at the hospital. He wants to see how much damage you did to your ankle."
As Emily had predicted earlier, the doctor had not been a happy camper. He had sent her off for another round of x-rays and an MRI and had taken the opportunity to scold her every time he saw her. The joint had been badly swollen so he had to remove the cast and put the ankle back in a splint until the swelling went down. He had also put her on bed rest for the next two weeks. Emily didn't protest his decision, surprising both the doctor and JJ.
In the end, the premature walking had set Emily's recovery back a good month. Instead of being in the cast for another four weeks, she was looking at eight to ten weeks. Eventually he had sent them on their way with a stern warning that she wasn't to put any weight on the ankle for any reason. Emily had promised she wouldn't, prompting the good doctor to mutter something along the lines that he would believe that when pigs fly.
It had been late in the evening when the two friends had gotten back to Emily's apartment. Both women were tired and Emily was half out of it from the pain pill Dr. Coffey had forced on her before leaving the hospital. So neither had been prepared for the mess on the other side of the door. Horatio had had a field day with his new found freedom and had been found sleeping off his happy romp on the back of the couch.
Emily had sighed at the amount of damage one small kitten could do when left to his own devices. When JJ had offered to clean it up, she had politely refused, stating it would give her something to do during her two weeks of medical leave. JJ had chuckled at that then had urged the brunette to go sit down and elevate the ankle while she fetched the reusable ice pack. Emily hadn't argued. She had crutched over to the couch and had stretched out on it, broken ankle on one pillow and her head on another. She had also taken a second to scold the kitten who had looked at her with his innocent green eyes.
Minutes later when JJ had rounded the couch with the ice pack, she had found her friend sound asleep with Horatio curled up on her chest. JJ had found it adorable and had taken a picture of them to show to Penelope later. Then she had laid the ice pack gently on the ankle and had covered the slumbering forms with the throw blanket. With one last glance at the sleeping duo, JJ had set about cleaning up Emily's apartment.
When Emily had awakened hours later, she had been surprised to discover that her apartment had no longer looked like it had been struck by a black furry tornado. While she had been zonked out on painkillers, JJ had apparently cleaned up and had put everything back in its proper place. And she had covered her with a blanket so that she wouldn't get cold. Unbeknownst to Emily, JJ had politely turned away Derek and Penelope when they had shown up to check on their friend, stating that the brunette had needed her rest.
Emily had smiled at JJ kindness and had vowed to find a way to repay her for everything she had done so far. Then after yawning widely, she had grabbed her crutches and had headed upstairs to spend what remained of the rest of the night, asleep in her more comfortable bed.
Friday had been a busy day for her. Emily had spent the morning at the BAU going over with Hotch and Gideon everything she had done since she had been unofficially suspended. She had held nothing back, including the valuable help that had been provided by Derek, Penelope and JJ. Emily had also taken full responsibility for getting them involved after she had been warned off the case. If there was blame to be laid, then it should fall squarely on her shoulders.
"That's not going to happen, Prentiss," Hotch said. "My official report to the Director will state that due to your personal connection to the witness, you were aiding the Metro Police in their investigation with my approval. Detective Crane has stated in his report that he emailed to me, that you were of valuable help. Again. Excellent job."
Emily blinked in surprise. "Thank you, Sir."
A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Now go home and rest that ankle. I don't want to see you here for the next two weeks."
"You won't," Emily promised, smiling at his inside joke. She was already on a two-week medical leave.
She grabbed her crutches from where they were leaning against the corner of Hotch's desk and stood up. "And no walking on it," he ordered with a stern frown.
"Yes, Sir," she agreed and beat a hasty retreat before Hotch changed his mind about reading her the riot act.
"The team is beginning to mesh together," Gideon observed after Emily had left. "Look at the way the three rallied around her even though they have only known her for several months."
What Emily hadn't known was that Derek, Penelope and JJ had approached Hotch and had asked him not to come down on her for getting them involved. They had volunteered and that they practically had to twist her arm to get her to accept their help.
"They are," Hotch agreed.
They had recognized that the case had been important to her while he had chosen to ignore it, but no more. For here on, he would be more trusting of Emily and apply the same set of standards he has for the team to her. No longer would he scrutinize her words and actions under a microscope, searching for ulterior motives when there weren't any. But that wasn't going to stop him from uncovering her mysterious benefactor and why he or she had wanted Emily on the team.
"Still thinking about transferring her?" Gideon asked in curiosity.
Hotch shook his head. "No. Prentiss has proven to be a valuable member of this team. We're lucky to have her."
Later that afternoon, Emily had headed to the 3rd Precinct to sign her official statement. She had been in the middle of icing down her ankle when Detective Crane had called to see if she had some free time to stop by. She had told him that she had all the time in the world and would be there shortly. Then she had thrown the ice pack in the freezer, dropped the kitten off in the bathroom and had headed off.
"Agent Prentiss, thank you for taking time out of your busy day to come down here," Detective Crane said in greeting when a young officer had shown her to his desk.
"Actually I'm back on medical leave so my schedule is wide open," she said with a chuckle as they shook hands.
A look of concern flashed across his face and he gestured to the chair next to his desk. "Please have a seat."
"Thank you," Emily said and gratefully sat down. She looked around for a place to rest her crutches. When she didn't find anything suitable, she settled for laying them on the floor and hoped no one would trip over them.
"I have your statement right here," the detective mumbled, rifling through the mess on his desk. Emily smiled indulgently.
Emily carefully read the statement, made a few changes and signed it. "There you go," she said, handing it back.
"Thanks," Crane said and tucked the statement in the top file. "I'm glad this case ended on a positive note."
"Me too," Emily said with a nod. "Have you been able to identify the suspect?"
"We did." Crane shuffled through his pile of files again. "Here we go," he said, leaning back in his chair that squeaked ominously. "His name was Henry Miller and he had a record that is as long as the Washington Monument is tall. I killed several trees printing it all out."
"Lovely," she said sarcastically. "May I see?"
"Certainly," he agreed and gave it to her.
Emily quickly scanned the stapled pages and let out a low whistle when she was done. "He's been in trouble with the law from the day he could crawl. Bullying, shoplifting, car theft and joyriding, assault and robbery."
"Yup. He spent more time in jail than out."
She handed back the rap sheet. "But he had never been arrested or charged with manslaughter or murder. Why would he suddenly kill Mr. Abrams?"
"I spoke to the son and he said as his father got older, his patience level got shorter and shorter. Apparently the store had been robbed four times in the past six months. Number five was the breaking point."
"And he stood up to Miller and refused to turn over a red cent."
"Right," Crane said with a nod.
Emily continued with how she thought the rest of the event had played out. "Miller, use to everyone doing whatever he says, is stunned. He gets angry and so does Mr. Abrams. Tempers flare, heated words are exchanged and Miller pulls the trigger, killing Mr. Abrams."
"That's what I concluded, but why go after the boys? They weren't going to tell anyone about what they saw. From the Hammond boy's statement, his two friends actually didn't witness the shooting. They only had heard the gunshots."
"But Miller didn't know that," she pointed out. "He just knew that someone had been in the store and he couldn't take the risk of being identified. He would have gone to prison for a long time, possibly for the rest of his life. Not a pleasing thought."
"So he set about eliminating potential witnesses."
"Yes. He was smart enough to realize they would have been on the security tape so he took it. I also wouldn't be surprised if he had enjoyed the high he had gotten after killing Mr. Abrams and sought to recreate it."
"By killing you and the three boys," he concluded.
"Uh huh. A budding serial killer," Emily said with a grim face.
Crane shuddered at the thought. "Thanks for taking out that low life before he had a chance to kill more people."
"It wasn't my intention," she said honestly. "I prefer bringing them in alive so that they can pay for their crimes for the rest of their lives. Death sometimes seems to be the easy way out. But Miller left me no choice. I couldn't let him get past me and reach Russ."
"Still you did this community a huge service."
She dismissed the notion with a small wave of her hand. "I guess. Do you know how much was in the till?"
Crane consulted the file. "Two hundred dollars."
Emily sighed and shook her head sadly. "Four people ended up dying over a measly two hundred bucks. It's such a shame."
It had been through Detective Crane that Emily learned of how Russ had come to her defense. How he had insisted that they shouldn't have arrested her and how he had refused to talk unless they had let him see her. Russ' actions had given her hope that their friendship was still intact. It had also given Emily the confidence to approach his irascible aunt with her offer to pay for his baseball and to ask for her permission to take him to a couple Washington Nationals' games. All of this had brought her to this point.
Something soft and fuzzy bopped her on the nose. Emily cracked her eyes open to discover that the kitten had ventured out of the bathroom. He sat next to her, head tilted to one side so that he could peer into her face easier and had one paw raised, ready to bop her in the nose again.
"Are you trying to tell me that I should get up and feed you, Serge?"
"Meow," he agreed.
"Huh," she said, rolling over on her side and propping herself up on one elbow. She studied the kitten intently. "Sergio. What do you think of that name?"
Emily waited to see what his reaction was going to be. She had begun to notice of late that when she called him by name, he always sneezed liked he hated it. But then, she could be reading too much into it, after all, he was just a cat.
He blinked his green eyes several times then head butted her chin. "Meow!" he said in delight.
"So you do like it," she said with a laugh and scratched him between the ears, making him purr happily. Then she tapped him lightly on the nose and he swatted at her finger. "I officially dub thee Sir Sergio, the Mischief Maker."
Sergio meowed again and pounced on her hand. Laughing at his silly antics, Emily sat up and let her legs dangle off the end of the bed. "Let's go downstairs and celebrate. I was going to suggest wine but I can't drink any because of the pain meds I'm back on. And you, Sergio, are already hyper when you're sober so I'm pretty sure I don't want to see what you are like when you are tipsy."
The kitten meowed in agreement. "How about milk then? A glass for me and a saucer for you?"
Sergio's eyes widened in delight at the prospect. He bounded off the bed and shot through the door. Emily could hear the sound of his paws as he hurtled down the stairs. The pitter pat sound was replaced by a series of soft thuds told her that in his haste, the kitten had fallen down the last couple of steps. She knew he wasn't hurt because he had done it before. An embarrassed look would flash across his face then he would saunter off like nothing had happened.
Emily bent over to retrieve the crutches, but didn't stand up once she had them. Instead, she had remained seated, crutches in one hand and stared down at her splinted ankle. When she had originally broken the ankle, it had felt like the universe was out to get her. That it was telling her that the BAU wasn't the place for her and her injury was a big inconvenience to the team, forcing them to work one person down for months while she healed. Emily had felt like a burden to them, especially JJ who had helped her so much.
But breaking her ankle had proved not to be such a bad thing. Yes, the surgery part still sucked, but what came after was better. Emily had made a new friend in the form of a red headed twelve-year-old boy and had managed to save his life. Somehow she had grudgingly managed to earn Hotch's trust after months of trying and failing. She was now the proud pet parent of an adorable kitten with the permanent name of Sergio. But the most important of all was the way her teammates, minus Reid for the moment, had shown their support of her, making her feel worthy of their friendship.
Emily stood up and tucked the crutches under her arms. "I guess breaking my ankle was lucky after all," she said and headed off to have a celebration drink of milk with her furry roommate.
THE END
And that's all she wrote. I'm glad you all enjoyed it and I want to give a big shout out to all who chose to review over the life of this story. So much appreciated. And to think I had once pulled this story because I got stuck. I cut all the baseball scenes with Russ and reworked the plot. Luckily I saved them and were able to reincorporate them back into the story with some tweaking. The response to the reposting was amazing. Thank you.
Now have no fear. I have others in the works. But as always I'm taking my normal little break between stories. I will be back on September 3rd with a brand new story to entertain you with so mark your calendars. Until then.