"Well, you really managed to fuck things up, now didn't you?" Clyde said by way of greeting, leaning against the door frame to her private ICU room.

Emily heaved a sigh; she'd been hoping to get out of this without a lecture, but it appeared that wasn't about to happen. "It wasn't my idea to send a psychotic serial killer after me," she retorted. "How exactly was that supposed to help?"

"You didn't have to go off half-cocked and hunt him down on your own," Clyde snapped. He paced back and forth and she knew he had to work out all the fear that had manifested itself as anger...that didn't stop her from being annoyed, though.

She rolled her eyes, shook her head. "No, right, this is my fault... I should have thought of that before I got stabbed half to death."

"You wouldn't have gotten stabbed if you'd let us help you..." he replied. And he did have a point (not that she was about to admit it).

"Can you just skip the lecture? I'm in the ICU, I think I learned my lesson."

He sighed rather dramatically, but said nothing further on the subject. He settled into the chair beside her bed, looking weary, like he'd aged entire lifetimes in the last several days.

She waited eagerly for him to say something more, words she'd waited eleven years to hear, but he didn't speak. "Well?" she prompted. She'd gone through Hell and was waiting to hear that it had all been worth it.

Clyde pinched the bridge of his nose as if anticipated an oncoming headache. "As soon as you're well enough, you'll travel to Genosha," he said simply, looking like he'd just bitten into a lemon.

She bit down on her bottom lip to keep her smile hidden lest she irritate him further. "Does he know I'm coming?" she asked, unable to help herself.

He shook his head. "He refuses all communications with Interpol." They both knew that he'd never quite forgiven the decision to put her under with Doyle in the first place. "I'm sure it will be a lovely surprise for him," he added, perhaps a little sarcastically.

"Yeah, I'm sure he'll be thrilled to hear that I got stabbed," she replied, matching his barbed tone.

He looked like he wanted to argue the point about whose fault that was exactly, but seemed to think better of it. "I'll never understand what exactly it is you see in him..." He didn't speak his name, had never approved of their relationship – not that Emily had ever cared.

"Not that it's any of your business," she pointed out. "But he's not this monster you – and everyone else – like to make him out to be."

"Emily," he started to argue, looking like the vein in his forehead was about to burst.

"I don't have to explain myself to you, Clyde. You promised you'd get me out and now you have. Your job here is done."

He sighed wearily. "I just want to be absolutely certain this is what you want."

"It is," she insisted.


JJ came to see her the day the doctors were set to release her. She hadn't been certain anyone on the team would be trusted with the truth, with the knowledge that she'd survived, and a part of her ached that it had to be this way. Even if it was what she wanted. Knowing that she had even one friend out there...it felt like she could breathe again.

"I suppose they told you, then?" Emily asked, releasing JJ from a fond embrace. She wasn't sure which answer she was hoping for.

She nodded, offered a smile to show there were no hard feelings.

"Everything?"

JJ arched a brow curiously. "They told me about Doyle, about the mission... I know what you had to do," she whispered. "It's okay, Em, it's okay. I understand why you did what you did."

Emily shut her eyes, sighed. "That's... That's not..." She shook her head, changed the subject. "What happened to Doyle? What's being done to stop him?"

"He escaped the warehouse before we were able to apprehend him," she said apologetically. "But every law enforcement agency in the entire world is looking for him. He's Interpol's top priority and you know Morgan won't rest until he's put a bullet between his eyes..."

"I wish I could tell them all I'm sorry," she rasped, swallowing down the threat of tears. "I never wanted this..."

JJ chewed her lip for a moment, debating. "Can... Can I ask you something?"

"Anything," she agreed.

"Clyde... He said that this was for the best. That you'd be happier this way." She paused, glanced away as she blinked back a few tears. "What did he mean?"

Emily picked at her nails, unable to meet JJ's gaze as she decided how much of the truth to tell. "A long time ago, I left someone I love very much to stop Doyle – and people like him. I didn't realize at the time just how long we'd have to be apart."

"How long has it been?" JJ asked, studying her face, reading her emotions the way so very few people could.

"Eleven years," she said softly, sadly, but didn't elaborate.

"Wow..." JJ breathed. "That's... I can't imagine being apart from Will for so long."

Emily nodded slowly. "I'm sorry it had to be like this. It's not how I wanted things to go, not how I planned it, but..."

"You don't have to explain yourself to me," JJ interrupted her, offering a tight smile. "You don't owe us anything – you gave us six good years, we can't ask for more than that." She reached over, squeezed Emily's hand. "Can I...ask where you're going?"

Emily opened her mouth to respond, then stopped, unsure. If she told her the truth, she'd be able to fill in a lot of blanks she wasn't sure she wanted to be filled. If she told her the truth, she risked everything she'd sacrificed for. "I... If I tell you... You can't tell anyone. Ever."

JJ nodded. "You can trust me with your secret."

She let out a shaky breath, uttered just one word, "Genosha."