A.N. Taking more liberties than usual, for the sake of simplicity and timeline. Same will happen in several upcoming chapters, where both the timeline and the story line were hazy on the show.

Prelude

Chapter 36

This must be what it was like, back then. Knowing you have an agent… a friend… who's been taken. Not knowing what ordeal they may be going through, or even if you'll ever see them again.

Reid shook his head to get the thought out of it. It had surfaced randomly, and was consuming valuable mRNA. So were all of the other ideas racing through his head.

Calm yourself down. You won't help her if you're panicking. He put to use one of the techniques he'd learned in his post-captivity therapy. One that was supposed to help with PTSD.

Oh, God, Emily, I hope you'll never have to go through that. He vowed to himself that he would be there for her, whenever she needed him, and even when she thought she didn't. He wouldn't have someone he cared about go through what he had, alone.

He almost missed what Hotch was saying. Something about calling in outside help, to assist with covering things on the international level. As he finished speaking, Hotch cast his eyes toward the entrance of the BAU, and all the rest followed suit.

Reid would have said it was as though she'd never left, but there was something noticeably different about her. JJ stood there with an air of assurance that went far beyond anything she'd ever displayed as their unit liaison.

"Let's get started," she said.

Garcia ran to embrace her, and the men all nodded greetings her way. Only Reid stood silent, and staring.

What kind of cruel bargain is this? We get JJ back only by losing Emily? I reject Your offer. And I'm going to do my damnedest to see that we get to keep both of them.

Reid didn't know if he should be angry with God or the FBI, but angry he was, and in a way that he'd rarely been before. Without even noticing that he hadn't greeted JJ, he got back to work.

"L.R. All of these aliases have the initials L.R." noted Garcia. "But the list skips a line, as though something's missing."

L.R. An image was coming to Reid. He could never have fully explained it to the others, but his brain converted auditory input into visual, so that it could tap into his powerful eidetic memory. He'd only heard her say it, but Emily's use of the name 'Lauren Reynolds' had become visual for Reid. Now, looking at the list of aliases on the screen, the synapses completed their rapid circuit. He knew what the missing line had once held.

"Lauren Reynolds. LR. It's the name Emily gave me. I heard her saying 'Lauren Reynolds is dead.' She told me Lauren Reynolds was a friend of hers. At the time, I accepted her explanation. I thought maybe she was just in shock over the death of a friend. Now I realize it wasn't shock at all, that made her say the name so strangely. It was more of a mantra. She was trying to convince herself."

And, fool that I was, I didn't get it. What good is it being a profiler if you can't recognize when one of your friends is in trouble?

There was so much to unravel about this case….so much hidden in the life of Emily Prentiss, so much to learn about her nemesis, Ian Doyle, so much difficulty knowing exactly how much to trust Emily's Interpol handler, Clyde Easter…. and yet, things did unravel, with lightning speed. None of them had time to process what was going on. All they could do was to react, swiftly and decidedly, to each new development presented to them.

She knew she couldn't spare the time to react to such a small thing, but she couldn't help it happening. This was the first time JJ had come face to face with Ashley Seaver, the agent who 'wasn't' replacing her.

Jeez, Garcia was right. They couldn't have been more obvious if they'd tried. Of course she's not here to replace me. Of course.

She'd had so little time to connect with any of her former teammates, she didn't really know how they'd accommodated to her non-replacement. And she wondered, in particular, about how one specific teammate felt about it. But there was no time to dwell on it now. They had to get to Emily.

If she was aware they'd not yet greeted one another, JJ didn't choose to point it out. But she made a point of taking the aisle seat, closest to Reid, as the plane sped the team to Boston.

He's thrown. Look at him. I knew he'd been getting closer with Emily, but I guess… I guess I didn't realize how close. Trying not to acknowledge the unflattering pang of jealousy. After all, they were both her friends. And Emily was in trouble. Of course he would be upset. JJ was upset herself. And, of course, it wasn't romantic. Of course.

They spent the bulk of the plane ride strategizing. The picture was bleak, at best, and they all had to fight not to be demoralized. Ideas were floated, batted down, revamped, and floated again. They couldn't settle on anything solid until they had more information. And they could only hope to find that information in Boston.

It wasn't until the final twenty minutes of the flight that things quieted down. JJ and Reid took seats at the back of the plane for landing.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"Sorry I missed you last weekend. Will told me you'd had to cancel."

He didn't even bother correcting her. "I thought you weren't going to be traveling with this job."

She took so long to respond, that Reid's antennae would have gone up, had he been less distracted by the situation. "Yeah, well… so did I."

"I'm glad you were back in time to help with this. I mean….I'm sorry it had to be this, but ….. I think we all feel better having you here."

Reid didn't know why it felt so awkward. After all, this was JJ. It should have been easy. But it had been a long time since he'd seen her. And it just felt….different.

"I'm glad I could be here too, Spence. I just hope it does some good. God, I hope she's all right."

The 'Spence' did it. All he needed was to hear that, and suddenly the wall was down. He was with JJ.

She sensed the change, and turned to give him a small smile. "Partners?" She put out her hand, palm up.

He placed his hand over hers. "Partners. Let's go and find her."

They did find her. Half dead, a ridiculous wooden stake protruding from her abdomen, as though Doyle had thought her a vampire, and tried to end her.

Morgan emerged from the warehouse behind the stretcher, clearly shaken. He waved the others off when they tried to approach her, knowing the medics needed to get her away as quickly as possible.

"What happened?" Reid was as shaken as Morgan, solely from the appearance of his colleague's face. Derek Morgan didn't cry. And yet, there were unmistakable tear tracks on each of his cheeks. "What did he do to her?"

Reid could hear just a tinge of hysteria creeping into his own voice, and made a monumental effort to tamp it back down. But it was a struggle. This was Emily. And Morgan had been crying.

"Morgan!"

The senior profiler still hadn't responded. He was simply standing, staring in the direction toward which the ambulance had sped off. Finally, Reid's voice appeared to penetrate, and Morgan shook himself back.

"She's hurt, Reid. Impaled. Goddamn Doyle impaled her on a stick."

A stick? That didn't sound so bad. But before Reid could say so, Morgan added, "A chair leg. Like a stake. Like he wanted to make sure it would hurt her before it killed her." He spat the words.

Reid made a mental inventory of all the organs that might be damaged, and all the ways they might cause her death, and felt the panic rising again.

"We have to get to the hospital. Emily needs us."

Praying that he was right. That it wasn't already too late. That she was conscious enough to care. That she hadn't given up. He started to look around for a means of transport. That's when he noticed that JJ and Hotch weren't among them.

Rossi and Seaver had procured an SUV from the Boston office and called for their colleagues.

"Garcia will meet us at the hospital," explained Rossi.

"But what about JJ? And Hotch?" More than ever before, Reid felt the need for the entire team to be together. And, as much as ever before, he needed JJ.

"Already gone," came Seaver's succinct reply.

"To the hospital?"

She shrugged. "Don't know. I guess."

Seaver drove. As the newest to the team, she was presumed to be the least emotionally affected by the events of the day. And yet, Reid knew, less than 24 hours ago, she'd been showered with the blood and brain matter of one of their suspects.

Does she really have that much cool? Or is she just that detached?

Frankly, he didn't care. He couldn't spare the emotional energy. He was terrified for Emily, and worried about Morgan as well. He hadn't seen his would-be big brother this emotionally wrung out since the episode in Los Angeles, when Ellie had been taken from him, and her father killed.

Reid knew Doyle had gotten away. God help him when Morgan finds him. He won't last a full minute.

He didn't know what to make of JJ's disappearance with Hotch. Maybe they're putting together a statement. But she wasn't their media liaison any more. Or maybe she's helping put together an international APB for Doyle. That's probably it. It fit with her current position. A little.

Whatever it was, he prayed she would join them at the hospital. I need you. I think we all do.

He couldn't get past page 534. His mind wouldn't settle enough, even with his old standby. Reid was attempting to mentally re-read Tolstoy's War and Peace, in the original Russian. It was such a monumental task of cognition that it had long been his go-to method of distracting himself. But it wasn't working today.

Emily had already been in surgery for hours. A nurse delegate had visited the surgery waiting room twice so far, mostly to make them feel like they hadn't been forgotten. She'd provided nothing new. No indication that it was all right to hope, nor any that they should prepare for the worst.

Reid had caught a fleeting glimpse of JJ hurrying down the hallway after Hotch, and was relieved to know that both of them were in the building. But he felt bad that they were having to focus on work at such an emotionally distressing time.

We all need to be together right now. Let the Boston office handle Doyle for now. Let Clyde Easter do it.

He intended to say it to them when they eventually joined the rest of the team. But for now, all he could do was pace. And wait. And watch Garcia cry into Morgan's shoulder. And watch Morgan try not to let his own tears fall. And fail to recite the usually reliable Tolstoy. His brain betrayed him, when he most needed it to provide distraction.

Emily. You have to be all right, Emily. Just hold on, and let the doctors do their work.

He tried to create a mental image of gloved fingers slowly….. ever so slowly….. putting traction on a wooden stake. Stopping every few millimeters to assess the damage, and repair it.

Be patient. It takes time. Let them do their jobs. He didn't really know if he was saying it to himself, or to Emily.

After what seemed like hours… or days…. there was movement in the hallway. A flurry of activity down the corridor, not seen directly, but only as shadows moving quickly on the wall. And then… JJ.

Each of them froze when she entered the waiting room. Stopped in mid-sentence, mid-stride. Stared. Prayed. Hoped. Tried not to profile the look on her face. Because it said…

"She never even made it off the table."

It took his genius mind a few seconds to absorb it. He'd been so invested in hearing good news. So trusting of an announcement that the surgery had been a success. It was almost as though his mind was working in reverse. 'Made it off the table.' 'Never'. 'She'.

Emily! She never made it off the table. But that means…. NO!

He felt his body rise of its own volition and try to bolt from the room. But it was caught by the arm, and turned. Caught by JJ.

"Spence…"

The words were out before he could stop them. They sounded pathetic, almost nonsensical. Except to her. She'd heard them from him before. Even if they didn't make sense to him, they did to her.

"I never got a chance to say goodbye."

As though he was rushing off to do so now. To say goodbye to someone already gone. It made no sense. And yet, it made all the sense in the world.

"Come here." She whispered it as she pulled him to herself. Reflexively his arms went around her, and he bent his head into her shoulder. Reid felt her hands on his back. Felt her grasp, as though she was tethering him when he felt like he might fly out of control. He grasped her in return, his landline. His lifeline.

"I never…" He couldn't finish. All that would come out were sobs.

JJ held him tightly. Those who were watching the scene… their teammates, also stunned, also trying to process the news… might have thought the look on her face impassive. Controlled. But Reid couldn't see her. He could only cling to her, and let the emotion wash over him.

After a time, she started to let go, but Reid increased the pressure of his grasp. Finally, she pulled herself back, and gently pushed him away. Reid could only stand there, hands fallen to his sides, tears rivered down his face.

JJ thought she would break in half as she moved away from Spence, and left him, to meet Hotch in the hallway. How is it that I can survive walking away from my heart?

She'd resisted, at first.

"They're suffering. How can we let them suffer?"

"We don't know anything yet. She flatlined twice in the ambulance. Getting through the surgery is no guarantee that she'll make it anyway."

JJ hadn't needed to hear that. She'd invested herself in Emily's survival, even if it would only be known to three people.

"But.."

"We don't have Doyle. And we know he's got a network of allies and informants all over the world. If he hears she's alive…..well, she won't be, for long."

"But, Hotch. We've all taken oaths. Why can't they know? It will devastate them, not knowing."

"JJ, I don't like this any more than you do. But I know too much about human behavior." His sharp brown eyes settled on her. "And so do you. Someone will try to reach out to her. Especially after what we've all just been through. And Doyle will use that to find her. Just imagine the devastation if they find themselves responsible for that."

JJ stared off to the distance. "Either way, she's lost to us."

Hotch's slow nod acknowledged it. "In the short term. But we won't stop looking for Doyle. And we'll find him. We'll be able to bring her back."

"If she survives the night."

He nodded a grim assent. "Yes."

Now, meeting him once again in the hallway, JJ's eyes pleaded her case anew.

Hotch's features belied his concern for all of them. But his voice was stern.

"It's for the best. I wouldn't even have involved you if we hadn't needed State's assistance. I'm sorry, JJ. I'm sorry I had to put you in this position."

Stoic JJ emerged. "I know it was necessary. Don't worry, Hotch. I'll handle it somehow."

Oddly, it felt a little like the marriage commitment she'd been so reluctant to make. A promise given in a moment, carried out over a lifetime, affecting every other relationship she had. The lie between her and her former teammates would only be known to her. But her knowledge of it would be as a glass wall between them. Something that insulated them from one another. Something that would prevent any true, deep connection.

JJ walked off, still not knowing if she would be mourning the real or fabricated loss of Emily. Knowing only that she would be mourning.

But she couldn't focus on that, right now. She had a funeral to plan.