You get this a few days early. You're welcome. Hope this chapter addresses some of the comments from last chapter.

Keep in mind, though, that this is fanfic. Emily is a human character who makes mistakes. There are no Mary Sue tropes here.

Chapter 21: Fight

Bardolino was never a patient man. The fact that it had been weeks and his newly found grandson was still not in his possession didn't sit well with him. He kept putting pressure on his men and his assets. He had people scattered around the world, searching in every crevice to find the bitch and his family's resurrection; a boy his own son kept from him after running away from his legacy.

With his eldest son Joey Jr. recently deceased and his other, his boy Dominic, a casualty for his cause, all he had left to carry his name was Nathaniel and whatever son his daughter, Ava, popped out. Nathaniel, or Vinny Jr. as he would rename him, was the family's hope. He was the prodigy born from sin to rise and carry on the family dynasty. He wouldn't let the other man raise his grandchild. No way. Once they found James, he'd be taken care of. Joe already made the orders. Make it look like an accident or whatever, just kill on sight. He didn't care what happened as long as he was out of the picture permanently.

Outside of that, he just wanted Emily's head on a platter and his grandson under his control. He still had no idea how Emily factored into things, or what garbage she and her friend were spewing into his grandson's head, but she made him incredibly unhappy. She had become a real pain in his ass. God, he wanted to just stomp on her until she bled. Once he got his hands on her… Why was she even involved?

"Chaz! Have you heard anything yet?" He yelled at one of his cousins. The impatience was making him more volatile and a volatile mob boss was no good for anyone.

"Joe," another voice called back. "You have a call."

"If it's not about the boy, I don't want to hear it," he yelled back to his associate.

"It's very important. Information you will want to hear."

"Fine. Give me the damn phone."

The man rushed over, and Joe snatched the phone away. It was a very aggressive chat, though Joe barely uttered more than a repetitive "uh huh" and then, at last, he heard what he had been waiting to hear. "Fantastic. This better pan out." With that, he hung up and dialed a different number.

"Tommy," he said once the phone was answered. "You still in Virginia watching the mother's place?"

"Yes, Sir. Of course. There hasn't been any sign of her, just those agents I told you about last time."

"Good. Now I have an assignment for you." Joe sent him to the hospital that his source gave him and told him to look out for James, Emily, and Nate, go through the whole hospital if he had to, then report back.

Joe got a call a half hour later confirming the sighting.

"Got you, you little bitch," he said to himself, a giddy tone.

He ordered his man to keep watch. If she left, the man was to follow without being spotted. He and some of his muscle were on their way.

Tommy kept watch of Emily and Nate, and thought it was to his advantage that she looked distracted. He watched the pair closely. The woman was flustered. She looked downright exhausted and harried. Her eyes looked everywhere, but it looked like she wasn't seeing. The child was temperamental and keeping her from spotting his tail. She was injured and looked on her last leg. Tommy laughed. He could have taken him right there and then if Joe allowed. It would have been easy.

"Absolutely not," the boss said. "She's mine. I'm going to be handling her personally."

And that was how he and his associates ended up outside of the mountainside cabin in Virginia, guns loaded and ready for blood. It took them a while to track her. The hospital was a set up, they smelled it from the get-go, but they wanted to use it to their benefit.

Everyone had their off days. For all they learned about Emily Prentiss, they knew she was still human. Humans were fallible. They'd have a moment to catch her. All it took was an overtired, over-extended, emotionally exhausted woman and a relentless, grieving child to lead the way.

Following her wasn't easy. In fact, they lost her right after she left hospital grounds. It was a good thing they had people to find her. Pieces of the puzzle were coming together, and it brought them right to her door.

"She just got in, Sir," Tommy told Joe as he and the goons slammed their car doors shut, pounding towards the place.

"Anybody hurts the kid, and they're dead," he clarified as they approached the house. "Break it down."

The goons handled the initial dirty work. Sal knocking Emily down to the ground before she even had a chance to react, and it made him thrilled to see her weak like that. He motioned to two of the men to search for Nathaniel as he moved a little closer to Emily.

"Emily Prentiss, as I live and breathe," he said. "Looks like we finally get to meet." He smiled a wicked smile as the goon held Emily down. "You've made a lot of work for me and my men. Cost me my son, but you won't keep me from my grandchild." He made a hand motion. "Get her off the ground. Search for weapons and secure her."

Roughly, Emily was pulled from the floor, her eyes narrowed and glued to Bardolino as she was patted down and zip tied.

"This should be fun. Let's have a chat," Bardolino said, ordering his men to put her in a chair. He followed a hobbling, dragged Emily.

She said nothing as she listened carefully to the men rummaging through her temporary home searching for Nate. She was praying he stayed hidden and safe no matter what came of her.

"Are you listening to me?" Bardolino's voice boomed as he gripped her shoulder, finally getting her attention.

"You're not going to find him," Emily stated.

"Just you wait. We have our ways. Just like we found you here."

"How did you find me?"

"Kids make everything a little harder, don't they? It may have taken me some time, but as soon as I heard James was in a hospital nearby, I put my guys on every hospital within 50 miles waiting to see if you'd show. My guys here tried to follow you, but even distracted, you're good. I'll give you that. My team is better, though. We dug and dug and found a connection between your mother and this place."

He leaned in closer, wanting her to feel a raw, emotional pain.

"Know whatever happens now is on you. You brought us here, and I'm not leaving without what I came for."

Emily felt the hit of the words. They followed her. She knew better. She gave in to Nate's needs above her gut and it led them here. They had a plan, and she was sure it could have worked… If things went accordingly. Naturally, they did not. They wanted to set up the ruse in a different hospital, but none fit the bill. Then the men came with no real warning. Nate begged and begged to see his father, and despite her worries, she couldn't say no to him.

Everything had gone wrong.

Bardolino was right. It was on her. She didn't want guards at the cabin. It drew too much attention and would have put Nate on edge. They took a chance going to see her mother a few times, but she was sure the house was being watched, as were all of her major connections. She couldn't risk bringing more of them to her or her to them.

Maybe she should have. Or maybe this was always going to be the ending… Bardolino versus Prentiss, the Nate prize fight… She would fight to the death.

Bardolino left Emily with the supervision and went to talk to his other men. Emily could just vaguely make out their murmuring. They couldn't find him. She smiled. Good. Whatever happened, happened as long as Nate was safe. She kept repeating that in her head. It gave her comfort and allowed her to accept what might come. Her fate was out of her hands, but if Nate was unscathed, she would accept whatever came her way.

The other men disappeared leaving Emily with just the one guard. She could hear Bardolino calling his grandson's name. Nate wouldn't answer. She believed that. If they were lucky, then Nate fell asleep hiding and would be unaware of the commotion. It was cozy up there. She convinced herself that was a possibility. Maybe he wouldn't be scarred for life.

"What are you smiling at bitch?" the Boston accented voice hissed in her ear. "You think it's funny? Maybe now it seems that way, but if they don't find him, you won't be laughing then." For dramatic effect, in what Emily considered a cliché move, the goon made a fist and cracked his knuckles.

She had to hold back from rolling her eyes. Don't go asking for trouble, she said to herself.

"Got nothing to say now, huh? That'll change," he said, pushing her like a child would.

Emily took a deep breath before attempting to play the guard. "You don't want to do this," she said.

"Do what?"

"Keep me tied up… Interrogate me… Hurt me."

"Like hell we don't."

"I'm a federal agent on loan to Interpol. Just being in this room is asking for it."

"Maybe I am, baby. You know, my boss says you're a real mouthpiece, but, I don't know. You got them lips on you. I bet they do a whole different kind of talking if ya know what I mean," he licked his lips, his meaning clear to her as he brushed his finger along her mouth.

She bit it.

"Fuck." He pulled his hand away, quickly inspecting it before going on the attack. "You asked for it."

He lunged at her, knocking the chair and her down as his hands wrapped around her neck.

"Yeah, that's better," he teased as Emily fought against her bindings.

Thankfully, he never got the chance to do any permanent damage. As he held her down, hands squeezing, the booming, commanding voice returning. "What the fuck do you think you're doing, Nicky?"

The hands quickly released her, and Emily swore he was even more worried than she was about their safety.

"I'm sorry. She… She bit me."

"And how did she get close enough to bite you?" Bardolino asked.

He had enough mind to look away guiltily.

"Get out of here," Bardolino hissed, backhanding the younger man.

It was the first time Emily realized that he was just a boy, only in his twenties. Stupid kid. She felt a little sorry for him, but that wouldn't prevent her from killing him if it came to that.

"Amateurs," Bardolino muttered as he sauntered over to Emily, making a show out of it before lifting her and the chair she was attached to back up. "Never send a boy to do a man's job," he complained, pulling up a seat to sit in front of Emily. "What do you say we get this party started?"

Emily thought he looked way too excited for the "party."

"How about we don't."

"Don't think you have a choice, lady. You're only still alive because we can't find Nathaniel yet. But don't worry. I'll beat it out of you and once he's mine, I'll take care of you myself."

"You won't find him," Emily said.

"That's what you'd like to think. Bet you also thought we wouldn't find you. Here we are, in this nice little cabin in the woods. You got careless and now he'll be mine."

Bardolino rolled up his shirt sleeves and leaned forward in the chair, inches away from Emily's face.

"Either you tell me, and I go easy on you, or we continue to look, find him eventually, and you die, slowly, painfully, and with the kid watching."

Emily said nothing, just stared at him.

"I see how this is going to go. You're a fighter. Those make it the most fun. You're not going to make this easy on yourself at all, are you?"

"What do you think?" she asked.

He positioned himself awkwardly above her, one hand on her shoulder as the other swung low to punch her gut. Her whole body lurched forward in the chair. It took the wind right out of her. He was satisfied for the moment and took a step back, calling for one of his goons to come and bring the tools.

Emily ignored that and just listened to the men. She could still hear them going through the house. It must've been the second or third round by now and they hadn't found him. It was frustrating Bardolino, especially when he did a round, pleading with Nate to come out to no avail, but it made her proud. Unfortunately, it also set her up for a long time alone with sadistic animals. If what they did to James and Vince was any indication of what was to come, she had to truly brace herself.

And when they returned, that was exactly what she tried to do.

They started out with mental interrogation techniques, threats and such far beyond what would ever be legal to use. They told her in great detail what they could and would do to her if she didn't cooperate. Then they elevated the game.

The slap to the face was child's play. The second punch to her stomach, still didn't make her scream. Not even the rib hit was enough to make her answer a single question. She was silent, stoic, and they weren't used to that from a woman.

But when they unbound her legs, she was confused. Sure, the binding wasn't incredibly tight, especially since one was still in the brace and wouldn't bend, but she was secure. What was the point?

"This from the accident?" Bardolino asked as the brace was removed.

"It wasn't an accident," Emily barked.

"No, it wasn't." He smiled. "I'm going to ask you one more time before we take this to the next level. Where is my grandson?"

"Go to hell," she spat, literally.

"Do it," he yelled the order.

Before Emily had time to process, the other man stepped forward, rose his steel toed boot up, and slammed it down onto her already injured knee.

That was the first time she cried out, a long, howl-like whimper; the cry of a wounded dog. There was no stopping it.

"I can take it. I can take it. I can take it," she repeated to herself.

"Keep telling yourself that sweetie."

She hadn't even realized she said it out loud, but she didn't care. They wouldn't get her to tell them anything. James and Vince suffered, so would she if he remained untouched.

Eyes teary, teeth biting so hard into her lip that it bled, Emily taunted them. "What else you got?"

"Oh! A tough one. Get ready boys. She wants more," Bardolino jollily sang.

Rebound, Emily wearily watched them set up, wondering if they were going to do to her exactly what they did to her friends. Break her fingers? Pull off her nails? Knife play? She didn't put it passed them.

Her leg was on fire. Her bruised ribs were hurting all over again. Now, she was biding her time. She needed a way out of there for both her and Nate, but she knew she was no match for a bunch of mobsters with guns and other weapons. She didn't think she could fight them, or she could try, but was probably more likely to get killed than if she just rode out the torture they had planned, though she definitely didn't like the looks of that.

Now, all four men were gathered, talking quietly amongst themselves. Emily could just barely make out some of what was said and pieced it together.

"Still no sign of him?"

"No."

"We checked everywhere. Closets, basement, each room. There's nowhere left to look."

"He didn't disappear. Keep fucking looking."

Two left, and, this time, a bigger, more violent looking man stayed behind with Bardolino… He must be the one in charge of getting information, Emily thought. Great.

"So," Bardolino said as they walked over. "Where did we leave off?"

"I think you were going to let me go."

"Nice try."

Emily watched in agony as they sharpened a set of knives. All she could think about, while trying to avoid thinking about what they were planning to do with those knives, was why or rather who just carries around knife sets like that.

"You won't kill me," she taunted, letting them know she wasn't afraid.

"No? I had my own son killed, but you think I won't kill you?"

"I have no doubt that you would kill me, but you won't."

"Why not?" he played along.

"Because you can't find him, and you won't without me."

As she talked, she came up with an idea. It was risky, and just thinking about Nate made her question it, but she thought it could have been their only hope. She could take the pain and she could allow them to beat her until there was nothing left but her corpse, but where would that leave Nate? He'd eventually be found, and anything could happen. So, she thought, the risk would have to be worth it.

"That's why we're going to work you over until you're feeling the right kind of talkative."

"That won't work," she told them.

"It's a tried and true method."

"Not with me. I'm not afraid to die. I won't tell you what you want." She swallowed, still tasting the blood from her lip. "Unless you answer something for me first."

"Ask. Maybe I'll answer," he said, feeling generous.

"What do you want with a nine-year-old boy that you don't even know."

"He's my grandson. I'm his grandfather."

"So?"

"So what?"

"So, what does that mean? You still don't know him. You don't know anything about him."

"He's my legacy. That's all I need to know."

"You would have a bigger legacy if you didn't kill all your sons."

Emily didn't get to continue her thought before Bardolino hit her again, the cut on her lip growing.

"My son betrayed me. He abandoned his family and his name. I only did what I had to."

"Are you going to do that to Nate? If he's gay, are you going to shun him?"

"I didn't shun my son."

"That's not what he said."

"Then he should have listened to me. If he had, he'd be alive and a very powerful man."

"Sure," she said. She'd let him believe his fantasy. "But none of that answers what you want with Nate."

"He's my blood and blood is everything. I want Nathaniel to be all his father wasn't. To grow into the man I know he will be and take over once I'm gone."

Just like Doyle, she said to herself. All men want are warriors to carry on the family business. Narcissistic assholes.

"He's a child."

"And he will continue to be one, a well-cared for and educated child."

They continued to go around in circles. Emily knew they weren't going to get anywhere. He would only hear what he wanted to hear and there was no reasoning with him, but once he said something remotely human, she used that as her lead into the next step. With each word, Emily tried to play him, slowly ease into "acceptance."

Not only had she bought violence free time, but she was going to get them out of there… hopefully.

"You'd protect him? Always?" she asked, playing off his "love" for Nate and his family. It was a twisted love, but love nonetheless.

"From people like you and everyone else in the world that could hurt him. He'll have a good life."

"Then let me go. I'll take you to him."

"What?"

"You convinced me. You'll take care of him." It was all lies, but she was trying to sell it. "All I want is for him to be safe and happy. I know you can do that. You're going to find him eventually. He shouldn't live a life on the run. It's not the life I thought he'd have, but I don't want him to watch me die. So that's my condition. You can't kill me or anyone in front of him."

"You're not in a place to ask for special treatment."

"I think I am. Promise me that, untie me and help me up the stairs to my room to get something. Then I'll show you where to find him."

He wasn't stupid and he hesitated, but truly believed that torturing her wouldn't work. Whatever game she was playing, he felt compelled to just see what happened. He gave a signal for his goon to do what she said, and as he began untying, Emily didn't even think of trying anything. He was watching her carefully, knowing she was working some angle.

"Make sure she doesn't try anything. She's a wily one."

"I need help walking," she told them. Though she could probably handle the pain, she wanted to appear like a wounded bird, weak and vulnerable.

"Christ, help her, would ya?" Bardolino spoke to his guy.

He nodded and took one of her arms, allowing her to distribute more of her weight onto him as they awkwardly and slowly made it up the stairs.

Bardolino and his goon were glued to her. She could feel the others' guns trained on her… just in case. That would make her next move tricky, but she would time it right.

When they reached the landing, there was someone on each side of her, holding her arms both to help her and keep her from doing anything stupid. They asked which room was hers and she pointed them in the right direction. As they walked, she could see the disarray of the place. Everything was tossed and thrown about. It was a real mess.

"I need you to let me go," she told them. "I need to get a key and I can't do that with you manhandling me."

"Try anything and they shoot."

"Yeah, I got that." She rolled her eyes and looked around the room. "Think you could have left things in some kind of order? He's not hiding in my dresser," she snarked.

"Do what you need to do and shut up."

Emily hesitated. Her gun was in a lock box under her bed. It was in the same lock box with all of her Nate paraphernalia. She didn't really want them to see that. It was one thing for them to just think she was a friend of the family, helping to protect a little boy, or even just an agent helping out, but it was another thing altogether for them to know her direct relation to Nate. They would see biology and either immediately kill her to eliminate the threat or find some other practical use for her. She didn't really want to find out either way.

"We're watching," she was reminded. "Get a move on."

"Sorry," she sarcastically said. "Maybe if I could feel my knee, I could walk a little faster."

"This one really has a mouth on her. I can't tell if I like it or hate it," Bardolino joked with his cronies. "You could just tell us where it is, and we can find it for you."

"Not happening," she told them.

"I can shoot you to make you."

"Yeah, because that would make me faster."

"Seriously, stop talking. Find the key and bring me to my grandson, or I cut my loses and just take you out now."

"Threats don't make me want to comply."

"Help her out before I lose my temper," he told one of his guys.

Child goon Nicky came up beside her and held her arm for support. Emily pushed him away.

"Hands off. I can do it myself."

Quietly, he said to her, "Just let me help. He's not nice when he gets impatient."

"Who is?" she grumbled.

She needed more time to figure out the plan. Four guys and four weapons against her and maybe one gun didn't seem like a fair fight to her. On her best day, she could take them, but now she could barely stand and wasn't sure how she could take them if they caught on to what she was doing.

"He's not in the house," Emily confessed. "There's a fallout shelter on the property."

"I don't believe you. We would have seen him run."

"Would you?" she taunted. "It's buried in the woods behind the house. You have to know where to look. I have the key, but you also need a password to get in."

She was buying time and clearing the way. Willing to challenge her bluff slightly, Bardolino sent one guy to get searching outside. One down. More to go.

"Just do it," she told herself. What was she buying time for? Everyone was at the hospital waiting for the guys who were holding her hostage to show up. No one was coming. "Now or never."

Slowly, she walked over to the bed, hands leaning on it heavily as she lowered herself down to the floor. The only positions her body could get into with her damaged knee didn't allow for much cover, so she needed to be fast and stealthy if she wanted to minimize the chance of death, for her and even for them. She wasn't going out of her way to kill them, just to end this.

She silently took a deep breath and reached for the gun. Her hand hovered over it for a moment, eyes clamping shut as if debating herself. As inconspicuously as possible, Emily slipped the gun into the hem of her pants, thanking herself for choosing a loose-fitting shirt that morning.

"Got it," she said, forcing herself up with a key in her hand.

"Good, now show me to my grandson. No more stalling. What's the password to this bunker?"

"If I told you, you wouldn't need me. So, I think I'll keep that to myself."

Bardolino smiled. "I've decided I actually like you. I might even be a little sad when the time comes to kill you." He gave it another thought. "Or maybe I'll enjoy it. Yeah, I think I will." He pushed her. "Lead the way."

Her escorts were by her side again but before they could take her arms, she took a wobbly step away and turned to face them.

"I'm not taking you to Nate," she boldly said.

"It's funny that you think you have a choice."

"A person always has a choice."

"Well, not you and not this time."

He pulled out his gun and pointed it at her. "Show me or I shoot you."

"Do it," she taunted. "Shoot me."

"Tell me where he is."

One of the men came up behind her. He was slow in attempt to be sneaky, but she could feel him coming. "Now or never," she told herself again and threw herself backward toward him, knocking them both to the ground.

His gun scattered, and she pulled out her own.

"She has a gun," someone yelled. The voices all seemed to merge into one in the chaos. They were all yelling, screaming orders and threats, but all Emily knew was that she was going to fight. Nate was secure. She had spent time prepping that room for war. He was safe.

Another guy lunged at her, knocking the gun from her hand and landing her back on the floor.

"Damn it," she hissed, crawling for the gun.

The lunger was still on her, holding her legs as she reached for the gun. And then the first shot was fired. It was a warning shot.

"Enough," Bardolino yelled. "The next shot will hit someone."

But then a flurry of sound made all of them freeze. Emily panicked. Was it Nate? No, the sound was from downstairs. More men? Maybe. She didn't have time to waste.

Emily reached for the gun that was now beside her just as Bardolino took aim. He fired, but it missed her. She kicked out toward the man on the floor with her. They rumbled a bit, blocking any safe shot for the others. And they continued like that for as long as Emily could as she tried to prevent actual bloodshed, mostly hers.

"FBI! Drop the guns," the team unexpectedly yelled.

Their timing couldn't have been better. Emily sighed in relief as she saw Derek, Hotch, and Dave, her body going slightly limp and the guy she was fighting reacted more tensely. She wondered where the others were, but didn't have time to think about it.

It wasn't over. The mob didn't just give in, especially not when they outnumbered the good guys. Their targets changed, but they still had the same evil glint in their eyes. They were out for blood. It was hard to pinpoint who moved first, but the cabin quickly became a refuge for mayhem. A parade of gunfire sounded, several bodies falling to the ground.