The next night, Mick had come to my room. Once we finished our activities, I told him that I needed to make it clear that I wasn't looking for anything serious at all; just some fun. He left in a huff, angry. The rest of the week he avoided me, and he certainly didn't sleep with me again. I contemplated talking to him about it and apologising for the way I said it, but I decided that it was best to leave it. Besides, I wasn't going to continue this after the week, so it was probably best to forget about it now.

When we arrived home on Sunday afternoon and I finally got to my apartment, I went straight upstairs and stripped, throwing on a pair of sweatpants and a tank top. I looked at myself in the mirror. I was sunburnt, but it wasn't too bad. Unfortunately, I knew it wouldn't become a tan. My skin always went straight back to pale.

I was looking forward to an evening alone before returning to work tomorrow, where I just knew we would be called out to a case.

I poured a glass of wine and unpacked my bag from the week. I repacked my go-bag, ready for our next case, and then I decided to do some laundry before I sat down and relaxed for the night.

By the time I retired to bed, I stared at the text on my phone from JJ.

"Are you going to call him?"

I decided against replying and plugged my phone into the charger. I set it down and picked up my book, snuggling down into the blankets and opening it to the bookmarked page. It was a romance book, certainly for adults. Reading through one of the particularly racy scenes, I found my mind replaying my time with Mick. I cursed myself quietly and shook my head. I couldn't do that. He was an agent and I had too much pride to be interested in someone like him. He was just another version of Morgan, really. I didn't believe Gina when she had told me that he wasn't a player; he definitely fucked like one.
Regardless of how much I enjoyed the nights I had spent with him and regardless of how good we were together in bed, I needed to let it go and move on. Neither of us had the time to explore a relationship. We probably wouldn't even be home at the same time enough just to have a friends-with-benefits kind of relationship.

We returned home from a case on Friday afternoon. We were all tired, however I craved company rather than sleep. I finished off the urgent paperwork, handed it over to Hotch, and then headed home at five. I showered, shaved, got dressed into a short, tight, black dress and curled my hair. I didn't stray from my daily makeup routine, and then I headed out to a bar a few blocks up from my apartment.

I was only on my second drink when I was approached by a tall blond with tattoos and muscle. He was very attractive and he was smooth. I laughed at a few jokes and he offered to buy my next drink, sitting down with me. He wasn't someone that I would be interested in long term, mostly because he had little intellect and he seemed like he'd be dull, but he would do for one night.

We danced together for a while before having one last drink, and then he asked to leave. I walked out with him just a step behind me and I told him that I only lived a few blocks away. As we rounded the first corner towards home into a darker, deserted street, he pushed me up against the brick of the building on the corner. I felt my shoulder blades scrape and I kissed him back as his lips took mine. His hands began with one on my hip and the other on the small of my back. Before long, they began to roam, both moving to lift my dress up. I took his hands quickly and pulled them away from the hem of my dress. He pulled back and looked at me, "What?"

"I'm not fucking you here in the middle of the street, My apartment is a ten minute walk."

"I don't want to wait ten minutes." He pinned me against the brick again, harder this time. I turned my head away from his lips and tried to push him away from me, but he was stronger. He held my hands above my head and parted my legs with his knee.

I shook my head, "Jay, stop. Jay!"

He let out a frustrated huff before he pulled me forward, and then pushed me back into the brick hard. I hit my head and my vision blurred slightly. He knocked me out then.

I woke up in a hospital bed, Hotch across the room by the door, talking to a doctor. I had a throbbing headache, and I put my hand up to the back of my head where the pain was most evident. Both Hotch and the doctor noticed my movement and looked at me. "Agent Prentiss, welcome back. No need to panic, you're okay. I'll leave Agent Hotchner with you." She smiled before leaving the room quickly, probably with other patients to attend to.

I moved my eyes to Hotch, "What happened?"

"You went out, you were drinking, you met a guy. You obviously didn't consent." He tried to tell me what happened without actually saying it.

"…Excuse me?"

"Emily, he raped you," Hotch didn't beat around the bush this time, "The hospital called me, because I'm your emergency contact. They didn't tell me outright what happened, but they asked if you were the kind of person to have sex in the middle of the street. They weren't too subtle about it.
How are you feeling?"

I averted my eyes from his as soon as he said 'rape', and I kept my eyes on my hands as he continued. I didn't reply to him, I didn't look up, I didn't even breathe. This was humiliating.

"…Emily?" His voice was softer now, and he sat down in the chair beside the hospital bed. I turned my head to look the direction opposite him, and he sighed quietly. "I called Dave, but I didn't tell him why you were here. I didn't call anyone else yet. Do you want me to?" I shook my head quickly and tried so hard to keep my tears at bay, at least until he left. Now that I knew what had happened, I noticed the ache between my legs. I caught sight of the clear fingerprints bruised into my wrists, an ugly green, purple colour. "Do you want Dave?" I shook my head again, "…You want me to leave, don't you?" I nodded this time. He sighed again, "I need to go talk to your doctor again anyway, check when you can go home. I'll come back soon." He stood and walked out of the room, and I finally let my tears run down my cheeks.

It astounded me how many men thought that women just belonged to them; that we were just objects to be used for their pleasure.

He seemed so normal. Why couldn't I tell? I tried profiling him, although not extensively. I should have known better than to go with a stranger. I took a deep breath and moved my hand down slowly to between my legs. I felt stitches that stung badly at the contact. I let out another breath and wiped my tears away, dropping my head back.

I startled slightly as the door opened, and Will walked in. My eyes widened, "What are you doing here?"

"Askin' you a few questions and askin' if you'd like to press charges."

I shook my head, "I would like a different cop."

"I can't do that; we're flat out. I'm only here because I heard it was you and I took the case."

I took a deep breath and blinked my tears away. He sat down in the chair that Hotch was in earlier and he waited for me to speak, or even look at him. "Please don't tell JJ." I whispered.

"This is confidential, you know that. I can't tell her anything that you don't want me to."

I thanked him quietly and glanced over at him. He was holding a pen and a notebook, and he looked like he really didn't want to do this. I suppose he thought he was doing me a favour, because he figured I'd be more comfortable with someone I knew rather than a stranger. It was not more comfortable; I would have preferred a cop that I didn't know. Will knew me, therefore he could read me.
If I pressed charges, then the media could very well be informed. I didn't want this all over the news, especially since the team would see it, and they couldn't know. They wouldn't know.
But if I didn't press charges, then Will would be unhappy, and he would tell Hotch, and then Hotch would be unhappy.

I knew that the right thing was to press charges and tell Will everything I could remember, because that would prevent him from doing it to anyone else. But with the risk of my team finding out, I couldn't bring myself to do it.

"I don't want to press charges." I finally spoke.

"We both know that is a mistake." He spoke quietly. I was certain he wasn't allowed to say something like that. "If this is because you don't want your team to find out, we can keep it all under wraps, Emily. If the press finds out, we keep you anonymous. If you don't press charges, then he is still going to be out there and he is going to hurt someone else." He was trying to make me feel just enough guilt to change my mind. The shame was too evident, though. I could deal with the guilt and self-hatred, but I couldn't deal with my teams' pity or overprotectiveness. Besides, even if I were kept anonymous, they'd know. For starters, Hotch is absolutely going to make me take some time off to recover. They will know somethings wrong. Not to mention that they'd profile me.

Tears dripped down again as I bit my lip. I heard the door open again and Hotch entered, obviously not realising Will was in here. He stopped and looked at me, "I didn't call him or JJ." Hotch was quick to defend himself.

I shook my head, "I know."

"I insisted on takin' her case, although it seems there won't be much of one…" Will looked at him knowingly.

Hotch got the message, "Prentiss, you need to press charges. I can keep this away from the team, they won't know."

I shook my head, and Hotch sighed to himself, resigned to the fact that I had already made up my mind. He and Will exchanged a look before Hotch excused himself and apologised for interrupting. Will turned back to me and he spoke again, "I want you to think about all the victims that you lost to men like this, and then I want you to think about all the victims you saved. Emily, if you don't press charges, he is going to keep hurting people. If you do press charges, I can stop him. We need to help future victims."

I sobbed and dropped my head into my hands. He sat in silence with me for what must have been ten minutes. I cried; he left a comforting hand on me. Finally, I spoke "His name is Jay. About 6 foot 1, Morgan kind of muscular, short and straight blond hair. Said he was a construction worker. He had a sleeve of tattoos on his…left arm. There was a large head of a bear as the main piece in it. I don't know his last name, where he lived, or anything else."

"Okay, thank you. Does he know where you live?" He asked softly. I shook my head. "And you only met him tonight?" I nodded. "What were you doing out alone?" That wasn't a question for the case, that a question for him.

"Our last case left me wanting…company."

"So you went out looking for a one-night-stand." He nodded and closed his notebook. "You can leave soon; do you want me to drive you home?"

I shook my head, "Hotch is here, and I seriously doubt he's leaving."

He nodded, "Okay, well I'll keep you in the loop. Call me if you think of anything else, okay?" I nodded and he stood, kissed my cheek, and then left the room.

Not much time passed before the doctor came back in and dismissed me. I got dressed back into my dress and walked out of the room slowly, trying my hardest not to cause my stitches to ache. Hotch was sitting in the waiting room with Rossi. They stood when they saw me and Hotch slipped his coat off, draping it over my shoulders. I took my things from the front desk with quiet thanks and turned to Hotch and Rossi.

"Dressed like that, I assume that a man is involved." Rossi dared to speak first, his voice soft.

I didn't reply, I didn't look at him. I walked out of the hospital with the two of them behind me. I stopped at Hotch's car. He pressed the button to unlock it and I got in quickly. I watched as the two of them talked outside beside Rossi's car a few spots over. Before long, Hotch got behind the wheel and looked at me. I stayed silent with my eyes down, so he just started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. The drive home was about twenty minutes. I concentrated on the quiet music coming from the radio to keep my mind away from it.

He pulled up at my apartment and looked at me, "Jack is with Jessica. Would you like me to sleep on your couch?" We both knew that I wasn't going to let that happen. I shook my head, opened the door, and thanked him quietly. "Hey!" He stood beside his car and stopped me from walking inside, "Take next week off, and as much time as you need after that. Call me if you need anything." He knew I just wanted to be alone now.

I nodded and went inside.

I lay restless in bed, unable to sleep. I was terrified. I knew that he didn't know where I lived, or even which block I lived on, but I was still terrified that he'd come back. I needed to sleep, because the exhaustion of the past week and of tonight was getting to me. I made a split decision that I shouldn't have, and I called Morgan.

He was at my door in fifteen minutes, and I let him in. "What's wrong."

"Something happened tonight, something that I don't want to discuss, but I need to sleep but I can't. I just need to feel safe." I knew he could probably guess the basics of what happened from that. Someone had hurt me tonight and he understood that.

I'll admit that this wasn't the first time that I have relied on Morgan. After the Cyrus case, I felt unsafe at home too. I called Morgan then. He spent almost three weeks straight here after I came back from the dead following Doyle, and then he stayed over every third or fourth night when I needed him until I didn't anymore.

It wasn't unusual, it just meant that he knew that I was either in danger, or just felt like I was.

"Alright Princess, let's go to bed then." He dropped his bag on the couch and went upstairs to my room. I lay down with him and he kissed my head as I snuggled to his side. It wasn't anything sexual, and it wasn't awkward. If was just comforting, and we both knew that it didn't mean anything more than a friend helping a friend.
We had slept together a few times over the years, but never on these occasions; that was the last thing on our minds. No, it wasn't like that. It was innocent and safe.