A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing. I should have had this chapter up last week, but everything got crazy all of a sudden when I was offered a job that I really didn't expect to get. Anyway, that's relevant to my writing because after a very unsettled six months, I should be able to find a routine for updating again. Or at least I will when my laptop is repaired from an unfortunate incident with a cup of tea! Hope you enjoy the chapter :)

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As the days passed, filled with a steady routine of home cooked meals and lazy afternoons, Emily grew stronger. Her headaches decreased in both intensity and frequency, and a brightness returned to her features. On the fifth day, her energy had increased to the point that she was starting to get bored. Still struggling with the lingering effects of the concussion, she was unable to concentrate on reading a book or watching a movie without becoming irritable, but she was in need of something to do.

It was Desiree's idea to get out and take a walk. It hadn't been that long since she'd been recovering from her car accident, and she understood Emily's developing cabin fever. Derek hadn't been sure at first – she hadn't had to walk any further than from his bedroom to the kitchen since they arrived – but at the sudden enthusiasm in Emily's eyes he'd agreed.

"Are you sure you're not getting tired?" he asked, twenty minutes after they had left the warmth of the car. He was trying to be discreet in case she was putting on a front for the others, but she responded with a shake of her head and a smile.

It was cold outside – cold enough for snow, though only a few flakes had appeared from the wispy clouds in the sky – and she was relishing every lungful of fresh air. She felt freer than she could remember, strolling through the park with her gloved fingers linked through Derek's. Sarah and Desiree were providing the entertainment, with tales of the time their brother had learned to ride his bike on this very path. Fran was at home, having declared that she'd finally be able to get the house clean if it was empty. Emily's insistence that she could help had resulted in her being shooed outside and tossed the warm scarf which was now bundled round her neck. Whether she was starting to feel better or not, she wasn't to lift a finger.

"Make the most of it," Sarah had laughed. "You'll be doing the washing-up with the rest of us by Thanksgiving!"

Emily smiled at the thought. Thanksgiving was only three weeks away, and the family had been discussing plans as though it was a certainty she would be with them. There was something so reassuringly normal in the way they treated her. There was no sense of false niceties on their part and she didn't have to hide anything about herself. Other than with the team, she hadn't had that for a long time, and she'd never have believed she'd end up looking forward to spending holidays with a boyfriend's family.

Yet, at the same time as the warm sensation grew in the pit of her stomach, the familiar agitation lurked just around the corner. Her conversation with Fran had never been revisited and there was so much that she was simply choosing to ignore. By now she knew that she couldn't run from anything forever.

Derek wondered what was going through Emily's mind as they continued along the side of the lake. She looked happier than he'd seen her for a long time. In the past few days there had been more flashes of the woman who used to join him as he teased Reid, or brush off his flirting like she'd heard it all before. Right now, her cheeks were flushed from the chill of the wind and the trace of her latest laugh remained on her lips. He knew thoughts of what was going on in DC must have lurked somewhere in her head, but they weren't haunting her as they had just days before.

"So, how much longer do we have you here?" Desiree asked the couple, as they took a break where they could look out onto the water.

"Until the end of the week," Emily replied, sipping the hot chocolate she'd purchased from a nearby café. She held the cup close to her body, drawing in all the heat she could. "Derek has to get back to work on Monday."

"But you don't," he reminded her. They had discussed – or at least he had proposed – that she could remain in Chicago for the duration of her medical leave. The team were currently on a different case, while the police took over the manhunt for Brennan and , and the suspects they'd already tracked down awaited trial for their various offences. There was no need for Emily to come home until she was absolutely ready.

"I'm going back at the same time as you," she insisted, her eyes pleading with him to drop the matter. They were having a nice afternoon and she didn't want the temporary burst of happiness to come to an end too soon. "I might not be able to work, but I have things to sort out in DC."

He nodded, accepting her point, even if it was with some reluctance. Over the last few days, they'd decided for certain that they weren't going to return to their apartment. Neither of them was comfortable in the knowledge that Connor Brennan most likely knew where they lived. There was a house Derek had just started to renovate – it was far from perfect, but it was livable and it was safe. It was understandable Emily wanted to get settled.

Or at least he was opting to believe that was what she was eager to sort out. She'd been worryingly quiet about Marissa and Lucy.

"You'd better be back for the holidays," Sarah told them, before his thoughts could travel further down that road. "It'll break Mom's heart if she can't show you both off to the family!"

Derek laughed, his hand coming to rest over Emily's in a sign that their almost argument had come to an end.

"We'll be there," he promised. In a world where they could spend an afternoon by Lake Michigan, he could just about believe it would happen.

"Thanksgiving and Christmas?" Desiree pressed.

"You two are turning into Mom!" he exclaimed, laughing and shaking his head.

Emily smiled too, but now that thoughts of what waited in DC had broken through to the front of her mind, she couldn't keep hold of that light, carefree feeling. As she watched the clouds on the water, gradually distancing herself from the conversation, images of a dying mother and an orphaned child were all she could think of. There had to be a way to resolve the case, and she was sure as hell going to find it.

/
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It was a Saturday morning, nine days since Emily and Derek had left for Chicago, six days since they'd taken a step back from the hunt for Connor and Damien to focus on other cases, and a mere five hours since their return from Austin, Texas.

"I thought you were going home?" Rossi questioned, raising his eyebrows at the sight of JJ, still at her desk and still working. He was sure she'd mentioned something about Henry having a soccer game.

"I've already missed the game," she replied, a sad and guilty expression tainting her smile. "So I might as well be doing something useful."

Noticing that her reports were already in a neat stack at the far side of the desk, he glanced at her computer screen. It was filled with notes on the possible sightings of the men which had been reported to the police.

"I'm sure the police are following those up," he remarked, not bothering to ask where she'd got them from. Garcia had been the most vocal about not wanting to leave the case behind and he was sure that, just like everyone else, she hadn't

"Connor Brennan is obsessed with Lauren Reynolds," JJ responded. "It looks like he's in the middle of some sort of psychotic break and all he wants is to get to Emily."

"Emily's in Chicago," Rossi reminded her, trying to reassure the agent that their friend was safe.

"She's coming back tomorrow."

Rossi sighed – he couldn't deny that he was also filled with a renewed sense of worry for Emily, and for Morgan, on their return.

"You should still get home to Will and Henry," he insisted, raising his eyebrows in a knowing fashion.

"Just give me a couple of hours," she replied. She couldn't just go home and wait for Emily's return.

Before Rossi had even moved away from JJ, the sound of approaching footsteps grabbed both of their attention.

"Not you too!" Rossi exclaimed, as Hotch appeared in the bullpen from his office. "Doesn't anyone want to take a weekend?"

JJ was about to point out that Rossi was also still in the office, but Hotch's serious frown told her it was no time for humour.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her expression mirroring his as he sighed.

"The police have found a body," he replied. "It looks like Damien Connelly."

"Looks like?" Rossi questioned.

"There are bullet wounds to the head and torso, and the body's been in a heated apartment for over a week," Hotch answered, grimly. "Confirmation's going to require dental records."

JJ's eyes flicked back to her computer screen, the sense of urgency renewed. She had very little doubt that it was Connor who had killed his associate, and that only lent further support to his declining mental state. All it would take to convince the police to invite them back in was a phone call, but she knew that would just land Hotch in more trouble.

"What are we going to do?" she asked.

As JJ waited expectantly for him to take control, Hotch found himself glancing towards Rossi for inspiration. The older man often had the answers that only those extra years of experience could provide, and Aaron's confidence in his own leadership was still suffering from every apology and assurance he'd been forced to make in the past couple of weeks.

"We're going to keep our family safe," Rossi replied, shaking his head at the thought that the same bureaucracy which had left them fighting to stay together after Doyle's first appearance, was failing them all over again.

/
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Sunday morning, and the time to leave Chicago, came quicker than anyone in the Morgan house wanted. Fran was just getting used to having her son at home, and was getting to know more about Emily each day. The thought that the house would soon be empty of their voices, and that her daughters' frequent visits would also decrease made her feel like her children were flying the nest all over again.

"Is everything packed?" she asked, as Emily came back into the house from loading their belongings into the rental car.

A couple of shopping trips to pass the time, and Fran's strong and often vocalized opinion that Derek needed to take some of his warmer clothes back to DC, meant they were skirting very close to the limits of their luggage allowance, but they had just managed it. Travelling so frequently for work made them experts when it came to packing.

"Yeah, Derek's just down at the youth centre dropping off some flyers about internships before we leave," she replied. "He forgot them on Friday."

With Buford out of the picture, the centre had received a new lifeblood of volunteers and was going as strong as ever. Each time he visited Chicago, Derek made sure to look in and do something for the teenagers. This time he'd given a talk as part of their career's program, much to the amusement of anyone who'd ever known the boy he used to be. And much to the delight of his proud mother.

"What time do you need to check-in at the airport?"

"About one o'clock."

The two women acknowledged one another with uneasy smiles. With all talk of the practicalities of leaving complete, they were only left with their feelings and the conversations they'd avoided for days.

"You know you don't have to leave," Fran reminded the dark haired woman, who wore a slight look of apprehension as she realised they were alone for the first time since the subject of Lucy had been raised. "You're very welcome to stay here."

"I know," Emily assured her, anxiously playing with a loose thread on the cuff of her sweater. "But we need to get the house ready to live in. I know Derek says it's livable but I'm not sure his standards are the same as mine," she laughed, wondering if Fran was even remotely fooled by the act. It wasn't exactly believable that a former undercover operative turned federal agent had such high expectations of her accommodation that she'd be rushing off to fix the decor.

"He won't be able to cope if he loses you," the older woman remarked suddenly, her face turning serious and showing every line of worry and experience she'd had of families being torn apart. She couldn't hold back the words that were on the tip of her tongue any longer.

Emily tried to play dumb, but her blank expression didn't come close to its intended effect. Fran knew exactly why she needed to return to DC.

"You're going after that man - that lunatic that believes in fairytales - and the girl, and the baby," she stated. "I know it's important to you. But..."

Her implication hung in the air. Some things mattered more than making everything right for strangers. And family came first. Emily was being selfish.

"I'll be careful," the agent promised.

"That baby... There are other ways you could adopt; other children that need a home," Fran tried, grasping at the hope it was all motivated by maternal instinct.

"It's not just about the baby," Emily confirmed.

"But you want to be a mother?"

"Fran, I don't know," she answered, honestly, shaking her head and sighing. "I love Derek; I love the idea..." Her eyes turned away, gazing out the kitchen window and anywhere that wasn't his mother's face. "I just need to do this," she finished, quietly, in the knowledge it would disappoint.

The kettle hissed and whistled in the corner of the room, signalling that the water was ready to make the tea for their flask. They drank far too much coffee; they didn't need that extra stimulant in their lives.

"I wish I understood," Fran muttered, pouring the water into the metal container and watching the steam which drifted back into the air. "You have a good life, Emily. You got away from that Doyle man, and you got another chance to be happy. No one's forcing you to risk it."

The thought of Derek phoning with news that Emily was hurt - or worse - filled her with fear. Not just for how it would destroy her son, but also because she already cared for the woman herself. Emily was the promise of a daughter-in-law - a fourth girl to join them on the nights that Derek was relegated to watching the tiny TV in the corner of the kitchen. She was the possibility of her son being a parent and experiencing all this worry and joy for himself. In just over a week she'd found herself a permanent place in their family, and it wasn't one someone else would be able to take.

"I can't explain it," Emily replied. "But I can't ignore it."

"Not even for him?"

Emily had already answered that question once before. It was the reason they were in Chicago and Lucy was somewhere entirely unknown to them. And while she'd had the time to heal, at least physically, it had only resulted in them being able to hide from the rest. She wasn't sure how she'd answer it now.

"What are my two favourite ladies talking about?" Derek grinned, appearing at both the best and the worst possible moment.

Fran turned away, busying herself with the flask as she quickly wiped her eyes on her sleeve. Emily tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she steadied her expression.

"Nothing," they answered, simultaneously.

"We were just discussing our travel plans," Emily expanded, years of training putting her way ahead of Fran in feigning normality. "We probably need to head off soon."

Ten minutes later, they said their goodbyes on the doorstep, exchanging hugs and promises that they'd be back in a matter of weeks. Derek stepped away towards the car, as Fran pulled Emily close.

"Please talk to him," she whispered. "Tell him everything you're thinking; tell him what you want."

If Derek knew what she needed to do, and knew that she doubted walking away from the baby and knew that she was struggling with her new-found desire for a family, then he might be able to do something to keep her safe and prevent even greater pain.

Emily squeezed the woman's shoulder as she freed herself from her arm, unable to nod or shake her head in response to her pleas. What she needed was to help the man who had saved her life but taken others. She needed to reunite a child with the aunt who risked everything to give her a chance at survival, even though a part of her wanted the child for her own. She needed to make sure Doyle's story was wound up and put to rest forever.

But none of that formed the sort of conversation they could have over crap airport coffee. She wasn't going to shut Derek out - they'd come too far for her to do that again - but she couldn't put him through much more.

"I promise I'll be careful," she mumbled, knowing that the inadequate and empty statement told Fran everything she needed to know.

Her look of disappointment was burned firmly onto Emily's retinas long after the house had disappeared from view.