First of all: The summery of this story is aweful, I know. I promise (or at least I hope) that the story will be better than the summery.

I know that there already was an episode where each team member talks about the loss of Emily. I started writing this directly after watching "Lauren" so I already had a few members talking and didn't really want to change this.

I am not sure if the rating M will be justified. However - I finished planning the main plot of this story and so far it's going to contain mentions of suicide, self-harm, (psychological and physical) torture and child abuse! I won't describe those in detail or anything but those topics will appear several times. I'm not that good in writing cruel stuff so reading this will most likely not be hard or anything. But you have been worned anyway.

I'm not a huge fan of pairings in TV and uncertain how I feel about them in fanfiction. However, we'll see what is to come. I'd be thankful for any suggestions.

Do I really need the disclaimer? If I would own Criminal Minds I would treat cast and fandom better than CBS does (TG and SM still don't have contracts for S7!)

I still don't know how many chapters this story will contain. Probably quite a few ones (means 20 or more). Making things short doesn't belong to my talents.

Also, you find me begging for someone to beta-read this! I'm trying my best concerning spelling and grammar but I am glad for every bit of help I get. Plus my spellcheck left me all alone. I don't know what I did. I changed it to english and now it underlines every single word in every language I tried. Technically qualified me. -.-

Improvement suggestions, Compliments and Worship (or just a short feedback) are very, very welcome. Please! Just tell me what you think (I won't take it personal. Except if you're assaulting me then I'll seek retaliation).

Is it tossed by the waves, but does not sink. - Motto of the City of Paris

You know, doc, we kinda had a bad start. She barely knew me but she was concerned about the... the trouble I had at this time. And because of that very reason I wasn't exactly nice or respectful or appropriately polite or whatnot, even though she was. We became friends. Just happened. Sure you always get to know your teammates but I know she was a true friend because she was protecting me when the two of us were held hostage by the leader of a liberalist religious cult. Of course it was strategically smart but I know that she didn't do this because of this. She was a good friend. That's it.

So... I believe we had a good end. Actually - no, of course not, it obviously was terrible. That's why I decided to come back here. But you know what I mean, don't you?

The endogenous opioid peptide Endorphin, the neuropeptide Oxytocin and the neurotransmitters Dopamin and Serotonin are what makes us, put simply, happy and interpersonal relationships are building an important part of what makes our bodies produce those substances. The thing is... I never knew what an impact only one person can have on the total amount of personal happiness. There are many people I am together with every day and of whom I'd say make me happy. But then how come the loss of one can... completely overshadow the presence of many?

You see - each of my friends and colleagues are part of how happy or unhappy I am. Sure there are other factors, too but the team is what makes me feel better or worse. So losing one should be a decrease of contentment but not a complete elemination. It's not logical. I can't understand this and I think this is the first time ever that I struggel to understand something. Truth to be told it scares me more than the previous situation did. I just don't know what to do and was sorta hoping that you could tell me whether this feeling will ever... come to a close.

Jeanne L'Aigrette. Born June 23, 1970 to Martha Jenkyns and Stuart Hollow in Albany, NY. Three months after Jeanne's birth Martha and Stuart married and only five years later they went through divorce. Another three years passed until Martha remarried to Pascal L'Aigrette, a native frenchman who lived and worked since 1965 as a manager of a company in New York City that had specialized on importing red wine from France. But due to some tragic developments and the fact that one of his senior executives betrayed the whole company he had to give up this business and moved back to his native Paris - together with Martha and Jeanne. Meanwhile Stuart married a former prostitute in Las Vegas, somehow got into the drug scene and ended up being sentenced to ten years of imprisonment after dealing with pot. Pascal adopted Jeanne as his daughter, in 1988 she finished school in Paris and went back to the States for attending University there. After successfully earning degrees in international private law and communication science she went to work in Italy, the Netherlands and Great Britain for a short while before moving to Rennes. But Rennes turned out to not be half as nice as Paris was so she moved again - to the city that truly became her home.

This is me. This must be me.

Emily sighted, gloomily staring onto the lightbrown, foamy surface of her Café au Lait. A month had passed since she had sat in this very corner of a small, sweet Café close to Notre-Dame the first time, commiting her new identity to memory, trying to believe that she would be able to spend the rest of her life being this person. But by now she was sick of fantastic cafés, fantastic monuments and fantastic cathedrals. In her old, her real life she had loved Paris like no other city. But being in the skin of Jeanne L'Aigrette she hated speaking french, hated having more than enough money and hated sleeping in and waking up, seeing the Eiffel Tower. Heck, she'd rather be herself again and in danger of getting killed by Ian Doyle than spending the rest of her life in this beautiful city as a person she could never be.

A waiter passed by her table and she took the chance to get out of here. Maybe a few days in Vitré or at the Côte d'Azur would help her adjusting to the new life with her new self or at least revive the affection she used to feel for this country. And even though she didn't really do anything but studying plenty of details concerning Jeanne L'Aigrette she deserved a few days of holliday. The last months had been more than difficult and even though she survived them she felt that she had been destroyed. Killing her or forcing her to escape from life... - Emily seriously began to question what the worse option was.

"Excusez-moi, je veux payer."

"Oui, madame. Un moment, s'il vous plaît. Un Café au Lait et un morceau de gâteau aux amandes... cela fait sept euros et cinquante centimes."

She gave him a ten Euro bill and, because she felt guilty for having the money without doing anything for it, set the change to be his tip. When she left the Café it was already dark outside. She hadn't noticed how long she had been in there. Time became irrelevant by now. She felt like a dead person and death was famously etarnal. Life, as everyone else would call it, had nothing to offer to her. Her friends were far away and though she was dead and so did her family. Only one person knew the truth but JJ she couldn't contact. The danger of Doyle noticing was too high. Personally, Emily wasn't afraid any longer of taking that risk. He could come and fight with her. She'd appreciate the distraction. But JJ would be in danger, too. Emily knew Doyle would move heaven and earth to get her and hurting and killing innocent people wouldn't be an obstacle to him. All she could do was to endure her current situation, not even having something to hope for.

She slowly went to the next Métro station, with sagging shoulders and a heart that seemed to become heavier every day. Back at her appartment she grabbed her sports bag to spend some time at a gym that was close by. She still liked to work out but it wasn't the same. Back in the days she had done it for a purpose. She had saved other people's lifes and caught some bad guys. She had had to fight, to sustain high pressure, to mentally and physically give her best and to dedicate herlsef just as the rest of the team did to achieve a shared aim. And she desperately missed it. She was carving out a comfortable, selfless, lonely, useless existence.

Only a quarter of an hour after she had been at her appartment Emily found herself entering the main room of the gym. She went over to one of the treadmills to start off by running a couple of miles - her favourite thing to do by now. It didn't take a profiler to know why this was what she prefered.

"Jeanne, hi!", she heared a bell-high voice calling out from behind her. She turned around and concentrated on building up a smile on her lips. Marry Jane Parker was american and this was the sole reason for why Emily liked meeting her. Speaking english with a person who had no trouble to understand what she said and not an accent that was strong enough to make her native language sound like some opaque variation of whatever made her feel a little like being herself. By any other account Marry wasn't pleasant company. She wasn't smart, funny or even nice but pesky, rude and the fulfilment of every cliché concerning female bleached blonde new-rich americans.

"Oh, hey Marry", she replied, "been a couple of days since I last saw you. Where have you been?"

"Oh yeah?", she asked and showed the bewitching, white smile she always showed while knitting her brows a little, "oh yeah, you're right. I've been kinda busy this week. Do you know whom I met the other day? You won't believe it. Okay, I just have to tell you, it was like so exciting!"

The two of them started their treadmills and Emily began to run. Marry's voice conglomerated with the other ambient noises as the sound of her breathing and her heartbeat seemed to become louder and louder. She accelerated, coming close to the point where it would be only her and the running. She would start to forget where she was and whom she was supposed to be. She would forget that the person closest to a friend was talking about how she met her High School sweetheart and how they went to a party and had sex afterwards. She would forget about everything she had left behind.

And maybe, if she ran fast and long enough, she would open her eyes some day and be at a place where she really belonged...