Chapter 45: Valhalla
As the team dispersed, readying themselves for another case in their own backyards, Hotch made his way along the catwalk, getting all the way to his office before he realised he'd left his tablet in the round-table room. He doubled back, watching Rossi, Morgan and Reid head down to the bullpen to get ready for their various assignments, but stopped when he heard her voice, his ears alerted to the tone with which she delivered the message.
"Stop!" Emily exclaimed, "Just stop. We have enough to worry about already, don't we?"
Garcia's jaw dropped at the uncharacteristic behaviour of her friend, and she watched Emily walk out of the room.
Hotch passed Emily on the landing, grabbing her by the wrist, "Hey... is everything ok?" he asked, dropping the volume of his voice so as not to alert the others. The last thing he wanted was to give Emily another reason to push him away, and embarrassing her in front of the entire bullpen would definitely achieve that.
Emily rolled her eyes, "Christ Hotch, everything is fine," she replied, lowering the volume of her voice when she realised the others were watching them, "I wish everyone would stop asking."
Hotch dropped Emily's arm from his hand and watched as she made her way down the stairs and to her desk. He turned and saw Garcia in the round-table room, gathering up the files and trying to hold back tears. Hotch decided to start there, knowing that he would probably have more luck with her than he was having with Emily. Garcia was typically more sensitive, so if nothing else, Hotch needed to check on her wellbeing before he left the room.
"Garcia?" he said softly, making his way to the table and picking up his tablet, "Are you alright?"
Garcia didn't say a word, just nodded, but Hotch could tell she was as shocked by Emily's behaviour as he was. He moved closer to her and took the files from her hands, holding them against his chest, out of her reach.
"Garcia," Hotch probed, carefully watching her face, "If you don't talk to me now, you know I'll just worry and we've got a case to solve."
"I'm ok, Hotch... really," she said softly, reaching over to squeeze his arm, "I'm just worried about her."
"You and me both," Hotch commented, dropping his eyes away from Garcia, "Do you have any idea what's going on?"
Garcia shook her head, studying Hotch's face, "She had a message a while back from a guy named Sean… she's been coming in late, and she always looks tired... but I don't know what that all adds up to."
"I don't think she's sleeping much," Hotch added, looking through the blinds at Emily, sitting behind her desk, "But she's not telling me anything."
Garcia reached for the files that Hotch had taken from her, following his gaze and finding Emily at her desk, and she tipped her head, "Do you want me to do some digging? Find out what's going on?"
Hotch bit his lip, unable to take his eyes off of Emily. He wondered if there was something that Garcia could find… phone records, surveillance from street cams in her building, anything that might shed light on Emily's sudden change in behaviour. But he couldn't do that to her. She valued her privacy more than anyone he had ever met, and he knew that if he broke her trust now, she'd be lost to him forever.
Hotch reluctantly peeled his eyes away from Emily and turned to Garcia, shaking his head, "I think we just need to let her know that we're all here for her, when she's ready to tell us herself."
Garcia nodded and smiled softly, "Whatever you think is best," she replied, knowing that Hotch was the one on the team who knew Emily best, so she would defer to his expertise on the issue.
As Hotch started to walk back out of the room, Garcia called after him, "Hotch!" she said, waiting for him to turn around before she ran over to him. She reached up and kissed his cheek, resulting in a shocked look from the usually unshakeable Unit Chief, "Thank you for checking in."
Hotch offered a small smile and nodded, "I have to get to the morgue," he said softly, "I'll call you when we have something."
Garcia watched as Hotch walked away, towards his office and closing the door. He had looked so sad when he'd been talking about Emily, and she had no idea how to help him. She had watched as Hotch and Emily had grown closer, and while she thought a BAU baby with Hotch's dimples and Emily's eyes would be the most amazing addition to this world, she didn't think anything had actually happened. And she wasn't about to ask Hotch... she shuddered at the thought. But she did know that they were close, and she couldn't imagine how he was dealing with all of this. As she packed up the rest of her files and started towards her bunker, Garcia made a mental note to keep an eye on Hotch,
As she rounded the corner to her office, Garcia had a thought. She thought she could try sending a text to JJ. Maybe she would know how to get through to Emily... or in the least, she should know how to take care of Hotch.
Garcia nodded, punching her code into the panel by the door. At least she had a plan.
Rossi pulled the SUV out of it's place in the garage and manoeuvred it through the structure, leading them out to the main road. When they were given their assignments, Rossi had decided that the car ride to the first crime scene would be the best time to ask Emily if she was ok, but he was struggling to find a unique way to do it. He had picked up on the fact that Emily was sick of being asked, but he was getting worried. Worried enough to risk having his head bitten off… looking over at his passenger he huffed… or having his neck broken.
He had seen the interaction between Emily and Hotch, and while they'd been waiting at the elevator to leave for the Cosenza's house, Rossi had noticed tension when Garcia had walked by on the way to her bunker. He didn't know why Emily had turned away at Garcia's attempt to smile, but he had noticed it all the same. And if Emily was now pushing Garcia away, like she was with everyone else on the team, that was something to worry about.
They turned onto the I-95, and Rossi figured they had about forty minutes before they'd be getting to the house, and there was no time like the present to ask. Worst-case scenario, she snapped at him too, and the remainder of their drive was quiet. Best-case, Emily actually talked to him and her mood improved. It was a risk Rossi was more than willing to take.
"So I heard what you said to Hotch, and I'm not going to ask," he started, "But I want to make sure you know you can talk to me… if you need to."
Emily rolled her eyes and stared at the case file she was holding in her lap. Mutilated corpses were a great distraction from the repetitiveness of these conversations with the team. It was really becoming tedious, and while she understood their concern, they had no idea what they were asking of her. All she could do was try and focus on the case. The situation with Doyle was better left to Clyde and Tsia... for now.
"If I told you," Emily replied dryly, "I'd have to kill you."
Rossi chuckled and smiled, looking over at Emily who smiled in response. Maybe he was getting through to her. The way to Emily's heart was humour, which surprised him when he'd noticed her and Hotch getting closer. Sure, Hotch had his moments, but those were few and far between. But Emily… he glanced in her direction and noticed the way her eyes stared at the photos of the burned bodies… she was the comedian of the team, always quick with a wise-crack. She was also a natural care-taker, and was often the person that the rest of the team turned to when they needed a little TLC. Rossi knew about Emily reaching out to Hotch when he was dealing with Haley's murder, but he had also seen her supporting Morgan when he had to deal with cases involving sexual abuse of kids, Reid when he was struggling with processing his emotions or feeling like he didn't fit it, and even Seaver, helping her to settle into her role with the BAU.
For Rossi, the moment that he always came back to with Emily was when she had helped him mourn the anniversary of his baby son's death. When Rossi had told her that he didn't grieve for his son, that he had avoided going to the cemetery since his funeral, Emily had talked to him about what he thought would help. The following weekend, she had shown up at his house, having made up a picnic basket for him to take to cemetery. She drove him there and sat in the car while he spent time drinking wine, eating carbonara, and talking to his son. It had been such a big step for Rossi, in learning to let go of his feeling that he had failed his boy.
As that memory surfaced, Rossi wondered if he should just try the genuine track with Emily. He had always thought of Emily like a daughter, someone he could be proud of, but also pull up when she needed reining in. She wasn't one to let people in, to trust them, but she might let them help if they stopped asking why and started asking what.
"If you can't tell me what's going on, maybe you can at least tell me what you need from me… from the team," Rossi offered, glancing her way for a moment.
Emily sighed and looked over at him, before turning back to face the road, "I need everyone to just leave me to handle this on my own," she replied, "It's just safer that way."
"You know I can't let you leave it at that, Emily," Rossi remarked, "If there's some reason that you're not safe, you need to tell us… we can help…" he paused and furrowed his brow, taking the chance to reach over and take Emily's hand. When she looked up at him, he continued, "… Is someone hurting you?"
Emily closed her eyes and shook her head, "No," she replied softly, squeezing his hand, "It's nothing like that… I promise."
Rossi nodded, taking his hand back and focusing on the road ahead. His mind went to a very dark place, and even though Rossi didn't think that Emily had been in a relationship since Peter… she'd certainly not mentioned anyone since Peter… he had wondered for a moment if there was something going on that might fit into one of their files.
Emily shook her head, "Honestly, I just need a break. I need to not be here," she held up the file, "I need to not see dead bodies everywhere I go."
If she thought it would actually help, Emily would be on the first flight to Palau. If she thought that getting away might stop Doyle from realising the threats he'd made towards her, she would do what she always did and run away. Sighing as she looked out the window, Emily shook her head. Flight wasn't an option in this situation with Doyle, and freeze had never been an option for Emily. So she was left with only one last choice.
Fight.
"I'll need to be updated once the taskforce has been briefed," Assistant Director Sinclair explained, "With Chief Strauss out of the office, it will fall to me if anything should go wrong."
"Yes sir," Hotch said in the receiver, "We'll be briefing everyone as soon as they're all here. I'll update you when we have something more."
"Thank you… and Agent Hotchner," Sinclair paused.
"Yes sir," Hotch replied.
"We don't let this one get away."
"Yes sir," Hotch assured him. Sinclair ended the call and all Hotch heard was dial tone. As he lowered the receiver back to the base, he sighed and looked down at the file in front of him. He knew they were missing something, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Emily's connections had helped, but it still wasn't enough to get them over the finish line.
Hotch looked up from his desk at the knock. "Come in," he called out, watching the door carefully.
Emily opened the door and poked her head into the office, "You wanted to see me, sir?" she asked, knowing that Doyle's targets meant he was trying to draw her into his game. She wasn't about to slip up in her efforts to distance herself from Hotch, as much as it pained her to see the hurt on his face with her official greeting.
"Thanks Prentiss," Hotch said, standing from his seat, more out of habit than anything else, "Is Rossi with you?"
Emily stepped inside, shaking her head, "He's gone to update the guys downstairs," she explained, "He should be here any minute."
Hotch nodded, resting his hands on his hips, and studying Emily's face and body language carefully. Her hands were shoved in her pockets and she was biting the inside of her cheek. She'd been avoiding him as much as possible, or at least had been trying to avoid being alone with him, but he wasn't about to stop this manhunt to work out their personal issues. That would have to wait until this was over, once Doyle was caught and they could breathe again.
"Oh, hang on a sec," Emily said quickly, glad to find an excuse to get out of the room for a minute. She ran downstairs and grabbed her satchel from the floor, taking out a small bag. She tossed her satchel back under her desk and walked back up to Hotch's office, closing the door behind her. When she turned, she found that he'd circled the desk and was leaning against the visitor's side. She reached out and handed him the bag, trying to maintain a safe distance.
Hotch opened the bag and took out one of Jack's shirts and two small toys… the Optimus Prime and He-Man toys from Emily's apartment. They had been Jack's favourites, and he had been asking Hotch when they could go back to Emily's house so he could play with them. He looked up with a furrowed brow, "What's this?" he asked.
"Jack left his shirt at my place last time he came over," Emily explained, attempting a smile to throw off Hotch's worry, "He got cookie dough smooshed into it, so I washed it… I've just been forgetting to bring it in with me."
Hotch nodded, "Thanks Emily," he said softly, wondering why this felt like they were breaking up. He huffed to himself at that thought… in order to break up, you have to start a relationship first. As he held the toys in his hand, he looked up at Emily and wrinkled his brow, "And the toys?"
Emily bit her lip and shrugged, crossing her arms against her chest, "He hasn't been over in a while, so I thought he might like to keep them at your place."
"Whose choice has that been?" Hotch mumbled, looking up and immediately regretting what he'd said. But before he could apologise, Emily bit back.
"Please don't start, Hotch," Emily urged, "I've been getting it from everyone today, and I can't take it anymore."
"I'm sorry Em," Hotch said softly, packing the toys away in the bag and dropping it on his briefcase, "I'm not trying to start a fight. I just… I want to help." He paused and looked up at her, his heart breaking as he saw that she was on the verge of tears. He wanted so badly to reach out and touch her, but his blinds were open and the entire taskforce could see them.
"Just tell me what I can do."
Emily bit her lip hard enough that she could taste blood, and she shook her head, keeping her arms folded across her chest, "There's nothing anyone can do, Hotch… please just know that if I could tell anyone, I would tell you."
Emily felt a tear slip down her cheek without permission, and she turned to wipe it away. She knew this day was only going to get worse, and she was already feeling on edge. She and Hotch were essentially breaking up… he just didn't know it. Their relationship, as it stood, was over. There would be no coming back from the information he was about to find out about her. And Emily was crushed... completely heartbroken at the thought of Hotch thinking so little of her, like she knew he would. But there was no time to mourn. She had work to do. As soon as she got the chance, she had to extract herself from the team and take the fight to Doyle. The only thing she could do to protect them was to take his attention away from the team, the only family she had left in DC that Doyle had left to target.
Emily was reaching down to the tissue box on the coffee table when there was a knock at the door and as she wiped her cheeks, she heard Rossi walk in. She kept her face turned until she was sure her cheeks were dry, before she turned back to face the others.
"Sorry to keep you both waiting," Rossi remarked, closing the door behind him. He saw Emily stuff a tissue in her pocket and looked over to Hotch who had returned to the other side of his desk and was trying hard to look casual with his hands in his pockets. The tension was thick in the room and he didn't think it had anything to do with Doyle, but he wasn't about to ask either of them to explain what he'd walked into. So he did his best to help the situation, by turning the conversation back to the hunt for Doyle.
"What do we have?"
Emily sighed as she changed lanes, overtaking an exceptionally slow driver who thought the speed limit was just a suggestion, and as she hit the accelerator, she settled back into her seat. She had left Quantico at about three and, aside from a brief stop at the warehouse to swap cars, she had been driving for almost four hours. She knew she should take a break, but she also felt a sense of urgency. Like the sooner she got to Boston, the sooner this could all be over.
In the hours since leaving the BAU, Emily had given herself time to think about what she was doing. Doyle had forced her hand, by killing the families in DC in the way that he had, but she wasn't going to let him win by default. Emily knew Ian Doyle better than anyone else. Emily knew what kept him up at night. Emily knew how to find him.
The one thing she was terrified of now was her family finding out what she had done. Her actual family, her parents and Zac, but also her work family. The team would know what she did. They would know the things she had to do when she was with Interpol, the lengths they went to in order to catch Doyle the first time. And Emily knew that the knowledge of those actions would change how they saw her. How Hotch saw her.
Irrevocably and forever.
The thought of it made Emily feel sick to her stomach, and she was worried she was about to throw up again. She eyed the turnoff for Bridgeport, and jumped across the lanes to make the exit. It took her a minute or two to find somewhere safe to pull over and when she had, she jumped out of the car, leaving the door open, running over to the side of the road and emptying her stomach.
When she felt like she had nothing left, Emily stood up, shaking a little, and made her way back to the car. She opened the trunk and unzipped her duffel, taking out her bathroom kit. She breathed a sigh of relief when she found the mouthwash she had packed, and grabbed that and a bottle of water, rinsing out her mouth to get rid of the taste of bile.
Emily sat on the edge of the trunk for a moment, watching the neighbourhood around her. A couple and their kids were walking their dog down the sidewalk. A woman was checking her mailbox. All seemingly normal people, living their seemingly normal lives, completely unaware that people like Doyle existed in the world.
Emily was about to stand when her eyes caught on a yard and she felt tears form. A man kicked a soccer ball to a little boy, who held up his foot to stop the ball before he kicked it back to the man. As the ball moved back and forth between the two, Emily felt her heart give out and she bit her lip to stop from crying. She shook her head and looked down at the burner cell she had brought with her, and she sniffed as she dialled the number off-by-heart.
"This is Aaron Hotchner. I'm not home right now, so please leave a message and I'll get back to you. Thank you."
Emily took a deep breath.
"Aaron, it's me. I don't think I have long so I'll make it quick. You..." she paused and sniffed, running the back of her hand under her nose, "... you are my best friend, and I'm so glad you came into my life. I know this has all been really confusing and you're probably going to be angry with me. You are probably going to find out some awful things about me, but please know, that is not who I am anymore. Please tell Jack that I love him, and I hope I will see you both soon. I lo…"
Emily was cut off with a beep, and she sighed. She hit the number again and waited for the message bank to pick it up again.
"This is Aaron Hotchner. I'm not home right now, so please leave a message and I'll get back to you. Thank you."
Emily opened her mouth, ready to say those three small words, but before she could speak there was a longer beep, followed by a second message.
"The message bank for… Aaron Hotchner… is full. Thank you."
This was just her life. She had finally plucked up the courage to tell a man that she loved him, and technology got in the way.
Before she could think any further on the issue, Emily checked her watch and sighed. She needed to get back on the road. But before she did, she thought about one last message she could leave. She dialled another number and waited.
"Hi. This is Zac. I'm currently out of the country, so if it can wait until May, leave a message. If not, you can reach me via email. Thanks and have a great day!"
Emily smiled at the sound of his voice and waited for the beep before she spoke.
"Hi Zac. It's Mom. I don't have much time so I'll keep this quick. I just wanted to let you know how much I love you. You will always be my greatest gift, and I am so proud to have you as a son. Please know that if anything happens to me, you can reach out to Hotch… Aaron. He is the person who probably knows me better than anyone else. He'll have the answers you need. I love you sweetheart. Goodbye."
Emily brought the phone back down and clicked the button to end the call. She unclipped the back cover of the phone, pulling out the SIM card and breaking it between her fingers. She walked up to the trash can that was parked on the side of the road and tossed the pieces of SIM card, cell and battery inside, before she walked back to the car and started back on the road.
Four hours down, a couple more to go. And then the real hunt would begin.