A/N: Thanks to vickyvicky890 for the review! Keep reading... it's a very slow burn, so keep that in mind. :)

Chapter 44: Today I do

Emily stood on her tiptoes in front of her closet, reaching for the large suitcase where she stored her smaller luggage. She hefted it down and dropped it on her bed, opened it up and found a smaller suitcase inside. Like a nesting doll, but for luggage, she huffed. Inside the smaller suitcase was a large duffel, which she took out to fill with necessities.

Today, she just needed to pack the essentials for her stay at the warehouse. Until Doyle was captured or killed, that would be her new home. Emily could be comfortable enough there, and it would help her to stay at her base of operations until she knew what came next. She'd just have to add extra time onto her commute, but that was a small price to pay.

Emily left the duffel to the side and zipped up the two suitcases again, returning them to their usual spot, on top of the closet. She turned back to the duffel bag and filled it with the few clothes she'd already decided to take with her. She threw in some of her toiletries, her favourite shampoo and conditioner included, and turned back to survey the room, making sure there was nothing else she needed to pack.

Emily grabbed a small box and walked into the kitchen, opening the pantry to take out the tins of wet food and the large bag of dry food that were unopened. She packed them into the box, along with Sergio's bed and bowls, and took the box with her into her bedroom. Sergio was currently sleeping in his carrier, waiting for Emily to drop him off at Brianna's on her way out of the building. She had no idea how long this was going to take, but at least Sergio would be safe.

Emily moved into the spare bedroom to check it too, and her eyes fell to the small shirt sitting on the dresser in the corner. She bit her lip as she picked up the shirt, and she ran her fingers over the tiny red truck embroidered onto the navy blue polo. The memories came flooding back, and those tears she'd been holding back started to push against her will.

Jack had been at Emily's house while Hotch had been out for dinner with a friend. They'd watched a movie and read a ton of books, and then they'd baked up a storm in the kitchen. After getting cookie dough all over his shirt and flour in his hair, Emily had given him a bath before she'd put him in his PJ's, and his shirt had gone straight into the washing machine. The house was a mess by the time he'd left, but at least Jack was clean. After dinner, they'd cuddled up, eating cookies and watching movies until Hotch came home. And then the three of them kept watching movies and eating cookies, cuddled together on the couch. Emily smiled at the memory... she kept forgetting to give the shirt back, and now it just served as a reminder of the life she was losing.

Emily was roused from her memories when there was a knock at the door. Her head jerked up and she took a few silent steps towards the hallway. She looked at the gap under the door and reached into the back of her jeans to take out her glock. As she held it in front of her, prepared for someone to bust through the door, she kept an eye on the shadows moving in the hall.

"Emily!" came the voice, "It's Jack!"

Emily bit her lip and closed her eyes, remaining as quiet as possible. Why were they here? What was Aaron thinking, ambushing her at home? Didn't he know how risky this was? As that last thought ran across her mind, Emily rolled her eyes. She hadn't actually told him to stay away... just tried to get him to take the hint. And apparently, that plan was going down like a lead balloon. Apparently, she wasn't working hard enough to push him away.

Another knock at the door.

"Em," Hotch called out, "You in there?"

She furrowed her brow and waited. Surely they would assume she wasn't home, and they'd leave. Emily didn't know who was watching, but she knew someone was. Liam still hadn't appeared on anyone's radar, but Emily knew he was coming... in fact he might already be in DC. Doyle's connections on the eastern seaboard were well-established and, even eight years later, Emily knew he would be landing with every resource he would need to take her out.

Emily's cell buzzed in her pocket, and she reached in to take it out. Hotch's name and smiling face appeared on the screen and she took a deep breath, thanking Christ that she'd thought to turn off the ringer. As the call went to voicemail, she wished he would just leave. Her heart couldn't take much more of this. She already felt like she was living three lives before all of this, and now it felt so much more complicated. Her public life was that of a profiler, working with the team to hunt serial killers. Her life with Zac was completely separate, keeping him a secret in order to keep him safe.

And then there was her life with Hotch and Jack. Saturdays at the park and nights on the couch, reading books together and watching movies, cuddled together in a tangle of arms and legs. And that was the life she was trying to protect right now, as she ignored the boys on the other side of the door.

"Maybe she's fallen asleep again," Hotch said brightly, clearly trying to keep the little boy's hopes up. He must have been tickling Jack, because the sound of his adorable giggles came through the door, breaking Emily's heart. That sound used to cause a grin to grow on Emily's face. Now it just made her want to throw up. Jack had lost his mother. Hotch had lost his wife. And if Emily had any say in the matter, that would be the end of their pain. She wasn't about to cause them any more.

When the laughter died down, Emily heard Hotch's voice again, "I'll try one more time."

Emily jumped when her home phone began to ring, and when it went to voicemail, she quietly let out a breath.

"Hi. It's Emily. Leave a message."

There was a sigh, then a click, then dial tone.

"Sorry buddy," Hotch said, his tone dropping, "Looks like we're on our own."

Emily stood in the doorway of the spare bedroom, holding Jack's shirt in one hand and letting the tears fall. She watched the shadows in the gap under the front door disappear, and held her breath until she was sure they were gone. Then she let out the breath in a deep sigh, the tears falling freely down her cheeks. She leant her head back against the doorjamb and tried to get her breathing under control, knowing that she needed to get moving. The list of things to do was long, and she didn't have time to break down.

She did one last sweep of the apartment, making sure all signs of Zac, Hotch, and Jack were gone, before she picked up the duffel bag, box, and Sergio's carrier, and walked out the door.

Emily closed the garage door behind her and went back to the trunk of her car to grab the duffel bag. She made her way into the downstairs room and hoisted the duffel onto the bed, then checked her watch. She needed to get a move on if she was going to get everything done in time. Deciding that she could leave the rest of the unpacking for later, Emily made her way upstairs, into the SCIF. She found the passport she needed, taking a stack of cash from the box in the safe, and headed back down to the garage. She couldn't take her own car with her, so she exited through the back entrance, continuing down the driveway and onto the sidewalk. From there, it was only a ten minute walk to the main road, and she jumped in a cab.

"Where can I take you?" the driver asked, looking in the rear view mirror.

"Uh… do you know where I could buy a car?" she asked nervously.

"I might know of a few reputable dealers," he replied, "Any specific kind of car? New? Used?"

"Used, but decent," Emily answered succinctly.

"Sure thing… five minutes away," the driver replied, turning off the curb and starting down the street.

Emily nodded and sat back in her seat, letting out a sigh as she watched the city pass her by. She tried to distract herself with specs about the kind of car she needed. Black sedan, big enough trunk to store what she would need to take with her, decent tint on the windows but not dark enough to arouse the suspicion of local law enforcement, good mileage and... Emily reached into her satchel to check the stack of cash... no questions.

The cab slowed down and the driver pointed through the windscreen, "This should be a good start, ma'am," he explained, "You've got Rudy's here, and he's usually pretty good, and Bob's Garage across the way has some great deals on at the moment."

"Thanks," Emily said softly, handing a twenty through the partition.

The driver handed back Emily's change, as well as a card with his name and number, "You give me a call if you need another ride," he said with a smile.

Emily nodded, handing back the change, "You've been a big help," she explained when he tried to push it back," Please, take it."

The driver tipped his hat and nodded, "Thank you, ma'am."

Emily slid out of the car and waited for the cab to pull away before she started to walk towards Rudy's. She slowly made her way through the lot, none of the cars jumping out at her. They were all too unique in colour, or not the right size. The last thing she needed when chasing down a monster was a big honking lime green jeep. Stealth was key.

Then, just as she was contemplating trying the next lot down the road, Emily saw it. Black sedan, tinted windows, big trunk, good mileage.

"Hello ma'am," a man's voice boomed from behind her, and Emily spun to watch the man approach her, "My name's Rudy… how can I help you today?"

Sitting up in her desk chair, Emily logged into the database and typed in the case file number, waiting for the system to upload the file. When it was ready, she opened up a new record of interviews tab and started transcribing the notes from her interview with Jane. Hotch had figured that Emily would be able to connect with her, get her to admit to Gail and Lyle's murders, and make the DA's job a lot easier. And without an argument, Emily had done her job, keeping her distaste to herself.

Emily shuddered as she thought about the details that Jane had disclosed, from the beatings she had inflicted on her victims, to the views she had about herself as a caretaker. She detailed the animals she had slaughtered as a teen, enjoying the feeling as the life left their body, but excusing the behaviour by saying that she didn't want the animals to experience a moment of pain in their lives, so it was better to kill them quickly. She detailed the joy she felt at killing Lyle, justifying it to herself and anyone would listen, as an act of compassion towards Molly and a public service to the community.

Jane appeared to genuinely believe that she was making the world a better place with her violence.

The interview went on for a couple of hours, Jane not needing much from Emily by-way-of questions. She was happy to talk about herself for as long as Emily would let her. As the interview rounded into the second hour, Emily suggested that they had enough information, and that she would likely be expected to participate in future interviews. Emily shivered as she thought about Jane's response.

"Anything I can do to help."

It wasn't so much the words as her tone. Sickly sweet, as if she truly believed that she had been doing something good in the world, by killing Gail and kidnapping Molly. Her delusions ran deep. And Emily had left the interview needing a long hot shower, and a stiff whiskey.

Emily's notes only needed to be brief, given that the interview was video recorded and would be transcribed by someone else, so she finished her work relatively quickly. She submitted the form online and then hit print, walking over to the copier and picking up the document. As she headed towards the stairs, she stopped by her desk and packed up her things in her purse, grabbing that and her coat, before she made her way up the stairs.

The lights were still on in Hotch's office, but he wasn't there, much to Emily's relief. She'd been avoiding him since they got back, and didn't want any more awkward interactions with him. She stepped inside and dropped her file on the top of paperwork in his inbox, but as she was about to turn and leave, she took a moment to survey the room. In this moment, with no one watching, she could be close to Hotch, without having to be close to him. She walked over to the hat stand in the corner, running her hand over Hotch's coat, the thick material soft under her fingers. Behind the desk, in the bookcases, Emily glanced over the trophies and awards, the law journals and legislation, her eyes coming to a stop on the photos.

One of Hotch and Jack, smiling faces that brought a tear to Emily's eye.

One of Hotch and Haley, holding a tiny Jack, a big sign behind the family suggesting it was Jack's first birthday party.

Emily wrinkled her brow as she realised there was a third photo, tucked behind the other two in a spot that only someone standing close would see it. The fact that Hotch kept this photo here said a lot, as did the fact that he kept it somewhat hidden from the world. She smiled as she looked over the image, taken on a warm day last summer, before they'd lost JJ to the State Department. And before Emily's past life came calling.

JJ's nose was a little pink from time in the sun, but she was still grinning with Henry on her hip and Will by her side. On JJ's other side was Rossi, with his arm wrapped around her shoulder. Rossi's free arm was casually hooked over Reid's shoulder, the young doctor's head falling back as he laughed. Reid was flanked by Garcia, who had a finger running suggestively down Morgan's singlet-covered chest. Morgan's spare arm was sitting on Emily's shoulder, his white teeth shining brightly.

And then, there they were, completing their extended BAU family. Emily held Jack on her hip, sitting him between her and the little guy's dad. Hotch's arm was around both of them, coming to rest on Emily's waist, holding on tight. Jack's tired head was resting on Emily's shoulder, the boy getting sleepy from too much swimming and too much food.

It had been such a fun day, and no one had wanted it to end. They stayed until the sun went down, Henry and Jack relegated to one of the downstairs bedrooms to sleep, while the team sat around the fire pit sharing war stories. It was a day that had strengthened the ties between all of them, laughing about Reid's struggles with hair maintenance and Morgan's tendency to flirt with anyone, from local detectives to unsubs.

Emily heard a cough from the other side of the wall and she jumped, turning back from the bookcase and quickly walking out of Hotch's office. She started down the walkway and tapped gently on Rossi's door, waiting for him to look up before she spoke.

"Just finished the notes from my interview with Jane," Emily explained, "I'm heading off for the night."

Rossi nodded and furrowed his brow, "Is Hotch in his office?" he asked, gesturing with his thumb towards the wall they shared.

She shook her head, "No… I think he's gone for the night," she replied, tapping the coat that was resting on her arm, "Speaking of which."

Rossi nodded again and smiled softly, "Goodnight Emily."

"Goodnight," she replied quickly, before heading off down the walkway, towards the round-table room.

Rossi watched through the blinds as Emily walked away, pausing for a moment to read a text message. Rossi wondered what it was about, but aside from a slight frown, Emily's reaction showed little else. He wasn't sure what to make of Emily's recent distance from the team. She'd been coming late into work, had been snapping at the others in the team, and Rossi knew these were not typical behaviours for Emily Prentiss. There was more going on, and Rossi wondered if he could persuade her to share. He made a mental note to follow up with her tomorrow.

Emily made her way through the round-table room, grabbing the file she'd left in there, before she headed down the other staircase and towards the glass doors. She knew she needed to get going... there was so much work to do, and she needed to pack the new car with everything she might need. She had her suspicions about where this battle would take place, and if she was going to have any chance of getting through this in one piece, she needed to focus.

As she reached for the handle, she stopped suddenly, finding Hotch on the other side. He pushed the doors open and stopped in front of her, smiling softly.

"Hey," Hotch said brightly, "You on your way out?"

Emily nodded and bit her lip, "Yeah… sorry, I thought you'd already left for the night."

Hotch huffed, holding up a stack of files, "No such luck," he tipped his head, "But if you want to wait, I can quickly pack up and walk down with you."

Emily shook her head quickly, "No, that's ok… you've got work to do, and I need to head home," she replied. She'd been hoping to avoid any more interactions with him like the one they'd had after Montana, trying to avoid breaking both of their hearts any more than necessary. It had taken every fibre in Emily's being to pull away from him when she had, and she had been working hard to not find herself in any situation where history could repeat itself. If, when this was all over, she was alive and safe and she could get back to her old life, she might be able to salvage her relationship with Hotch. But that possible future was entirely dependent on Emily not acting on impulse and doing something stupid before she managed to take out Doyle.

Hotch's face dropped, and he wished they were somewhere more private where he could ask her what was going on. Not that he thought she'd tell him, especially since he'd given her every opportunity to talk to him and still… radio silence. Looking at her face right now, her tight lips and the deep furrow in her brow, he knew that if he asked her now, he was just putting her in a position to lie to him… again. Or she'd push him even further away than she already had in the past few weeks.

"Ok," Hotch replied softly, giving up on the hope that Emily was ready to talk, "I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

Emily nodded, "Goodnight Hotch," she said softly, avoiding eye contact with him while she pushed the glass doors open and walked through. She hit the button for the elevator, staring at it and willing it to come quickly. She could feel Hotch's eyes on her, burning into her back from the other side of the doors, and she needed to get out of there. Every bone in her body wanted to run back into the unit, pull Hotch close and tell him everything. And that was why Emily needed to leave... quickly.

As the elevator door dinged another message came through, and Emily rolled her eyes while she took out her cell.

*Fountains at 8. CE*

Emily frowned and bit her lip as she turned in the elevator and hit the button for the ground floor, making a plan to get to the fountains by 8, to meet Clyde, and then to work by the morning briefing. At this point, she'd been late so often, since all of this had started, that she wouldn't be surprised if Hotch called her out on it.

As the elevator started moving, Emily realised she had her ready bag with her, and could just stay in a hotel tonight and save herself the drive to and from Baltimore. Stepping out on the ground floor, Emily ran the list of secure hotels near Sixteenth Street through her mind and wondering if she could stomach any food. She needed to keep up her strength if she was going into battle. She made her way down the walkway, towards the parking lot, and deciding that room service and some sleep would do her a world of good. And no one had comfier beds or did room service better than the Hay-Adams.

Emily huffed... it's not like she had to save her money for a rainy day.

Emily stepped out of the shower, reaching over to grab a fresh towel from the rail in front of her and wrapping it around her chest. She stepped forward and grabbed a second towel, bringing it up to dry her hair. One more step forward and she stopped in front of the vanity, looking at herself in the mirror and sighing.

Her face was aging rapidly, the longer this Doyle situation continued. She had barely slept a wink in weeks and the bags under her eyes were growing quickly, and she could only hope that the comfortable bed of her hotel room would give her the chance to sleep properly.

As Emily got to work on her nightly routine, swapping out the towel for a clean rob, covering her face in night cream and combing through her wet hair, she heard her cell ring from in the bedroom. She stepped out to find her cell on the bed and picked it up, smiling at his face.

"Zac!" Emily exclaimed, grinning widely as she opened the video chat, "How are you sweetheart?"

Zac smiled and waved, "Hi Mom," he replied, "I'm great! Tired but doing really well."

"Tell me about your work," Emily begged, tightening the belt on her robe as she took a seat on the small sofa by the window, "What's been keeping you busy?"

Zac shrugged, "I've been helping out on programs, rolling out vaccinations and facilitating some education programs on health... mostly I've just been getting used to living on a tiny island," he huffed.

Emily smiled and nodded, "So how is it? Do you have a place to live? Are you eating properly?" she asked, "Tell me everything!" she exclaimed, curious about her son's newest adventure and feeling like she could finally relax for a moment. Zac was safe and Doyle couldn't reach him on the little island, so unlike her relationships with Hotch, Jack, and the team, Emily felt like she didn't have to distance herself from him.

Zac chuckled, "Yes Mother," he joked, "I'm eating properly. Lots of fresh fish and coconuts..." he paused and shrugged, "... I'm staying in the spare bedroom of one of the doctor's. It wasn't worth it to rent a place, since I'm only here for a few months... but he's cool. He's got some interesting taste in music."

"Oh yeah?" Emily asked, "What does "interesting" mean to you?" she laughed, moving over to the bed and lying down on the soft pillows, as Zac talked through the catalogue of his host's propensity for eighties hair bands. She tried her hardest to stay awake, wanting to give Zac attention as he talked about his island life, but as the call continued, Emily found her eyes slowly closing. The sound of Zac's voice, the warmth of the robe, and the soft bedding all combined to lull Emily to sleep, and ten minutes into the call, she was out for the count.