A/N: Sorry this chapter took me so long to post! I really could not get it to write. It's a bit shorter than the others but hopefully it'll be good. I'm not incredibly happy with this chapter, but please still read and review!
There will come a soldier
Who carries a mighty sword
He will tear your city down, oh lei-oh lai-oh Lord
Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh Lord
He will tear your city down, oh lei-oh lai-oh Lord
The Oh Hellos, Soldier, Poet, King
"Ugh, this is really going to suck," Elle groaned as she hopped out of the driver's seat of her car. Emily followed suit as she hopped out of the passenger's side. They had decided to carpool since they lived pretty close to each other.
"Tell me about it. I hate the morning shift. Why is it always the two of us stuck with these assholes?" They had both taken the morning shift together about a week ago, the day after the team had decorated the shop for Halloween, and it was absolutely miserable. The people on the morning shift were all old and grumpy, and having to spend time with two college students brought out the worst in them.
"Maybe we'll get lucky and Gideon will come in and distract us from them."
"That would only be good for you. He loves you, he can't stand me," Emily pointed out.
"That's not true. Well… maybe it's a little true. But he doesn't hate you."
"Whatever. At least we don't have to work the whole morning shift. 8-2, then we can do whatever we want for two hours, and then we'll come back and actually get to be with people we like. Plus, I think Leonard's working today, so they're not all bad."
"God, I hope he is. 8-2. That's doable. 6 hours and then we can ditch."
"At least we're getting paid," Emily added just before the two walked into the store. Emily made a beeline for the back to get her constantly-filled cart of books, while Elle walked over to the coffee shop counter.
"Hey there Elle! I didn't know you were on today," a voice said from behind her as she tied her apron. She turned around and gave him a hug.
"Hey Leonard! Emily and I got switched last-minute, we'll only be here till 2. How are you?"
"I'm alright Peaches, I'm alright. Knowing that I won't have to deal with these old jerks all day alone makes everything pretty good."
"I feel that. Fucking Strauss is on today isn't she?"
"I'm afraid so, my dear. That's not all, the old crone Barnes is on today too."
"Ugh, really? Dammit. I better warn Emily, Barnes has it out for her. Did I tell you how last time we were working, Barnes spilled her coffee down Emily's shirt, and then proceeded to blame her for ruining a book? Fucking bitch."
"Oh yes, well that does make sense for her. Oh, she's coming over. Back to work, I'm afraid."
"Greenwood!" Linda Barnes said as she walked over to the counter.
"Not my name," Elle said with a roll of her eyes.
"Whatever. Black, no cream or sugar, with two shots of espresso." For the second time in less than 10 seconds, Elle rolled her eyes. Barnes wasn't paying attention to her though, too busy typing something on her phone. Leonard offered her a sympathetic smile.
"Where's Prentiss?" She demanded.
"Fuck if I know, it's not my job to keep track of all of your employees." Linda glared at her. Elle stared right back, a look of determination in her eyes.
"Kids these days. They have no respect for their elders," she mumbled before turning back to look for Emily. Elle's expression was a mixture of pissed and incredulous.
"I don't have a problem with respecting my elders! I have a problem with respecting jackasses!" She stage-whispered to Leonard.
"I know my dear. You and Emily both, I'm afraid. I wish we could warn her that the Wicked Witch of the West was headed her way."
Luckily, Barnes was already out of earshot when they started talking. She waded through the shelves of books to the back room, where Emily was feeding Sergio and petting him.
"Ugh, that damn cat is still here? It gets fur everywhere," Barnes complained.
"I have a lint roller," she replied dryly. Her day wasn't going great already and she didn't have time or energy to humor Barnes.
"You and Greenwood-"
"Greenaway,"
"Whatever, the two of you really have problems with respect, don't you?"
"No, not really," Emily said while looking her dead in the eye. She wasn't going to let this bitch throw her around like some rag doll.
Barnes scoffed. "Anyways," she said, walking closer to wear Emily was seated on the ground. She had been filling up Sergio's food and water when she came in. Barnes stepped on her hand with her high heeled boot, causing Emily to cry out in pain. "I think it's time you learned that I'm not like your little lovestruck linguist, Alex Miller. I'm not here to make friends, and you are not to talk back so rudely ever again." Waves of searing pain were shooting up Emily's arm, but she didn't dare give her the satisfaction of seeing her in pain again.
"I've always known you weren't like Alex. Unlike you, Alex is a kind, warm-hearted person. You can only dream of being like her." Barnes dug her foot harder into Emily's hand, causing the tears in her eyes to spill over. She was biting her lip to the point that she tasted blood.
"You need to learn some respect, Ms. Prentiss." Finally, she moved her foot away, and Emily instantly held it close to her chest, away from harm. It still felt like it was on fire. Did she break something? She wondered. Barnes shot her one last glare before leaving the room. Emily didn't move. Did that really happen? Once the shock wore off, she gently moved her hand away from her chest to look at it. Even such a simple movement made her wince.
Hey, you- woah. What happened?!" Elle had come into the back room and saw her hand. "That bitch stepped on it," she replied.
"Like, accidentally?"
"Nope. She stepped on my hand and then dug her heel into it."
"Jesus, Em!" Elle exclaimed, immediately dropping to her knees to examine her hand. Poking gently at it with her pen, Elle tried to determine the degree of damage done to her hand. When she hit a particularly painful spot, Emily drew her hand back in pain.
"I don't think anything's broken, but we should wrap it anyways. Where's the first aid kit?" Emily gestured to a drawer with her good hand. Elle made quick work of wrapping her hand.
"There, I think that's good. God, I can't believe that bitch. She's insane."
"Tell me about it."
"I swear to god, she has a personal vengeance against you. For no reason."
"It's because neither of us 'respect our elders.'"
"Well, I definitely don't respect her. Bitch."
"Yeah. Uh, Elle, when we go out there, can you do me a favor? Don't… don't say anything to Barnes."
Elle looked confused, but nodded nonetheless. "Yeah. Yeah… ok."
"Thank you."
"Woah, what happened to your hand?" Hotch asked as Elle and Emily re-entered the ship for their other shift later that day.
"Nothing," Emily brushed him off. Elle rolled her eyes.
"That bitch Barnes purposefully stepped on her hand." A collection of "what?" And "why?!s were heard, as well as three variations of "where is she?" From Hotch, Derek, and Tara.
"Are you ok?" Alex asked, her mom-friend tendencies kicking in.
"I'm fine, don't worry about it," she tried (and failed) to downplay her injury.
"Don't worry about it? Don't worry about it?" Derek yelled in disbelief. He was incredibly protective of his friends, especially after the incident with Foyet a few months ago.
"Derek…"
"No! Emily, you always downplay this kind of stuff! Need I remind you of Doyle?"
"Doyle? Who's Doyle?" Hotch asked out of curiosity. Alex and James looked at each other in an oh boy kind of look. Derek opened his mouth to answer.
"Don't, Derek," she warned. He ignored her."
"Ian Doyle is a psychopath that-"
"Derek!" The bookstore had gone silent, everyone watching the standoff between the two.
"I'm just trying to protect you, Emily."
"I don't need your protection Morgan! I can take care of myself!"
"Why are you so scared to ask for help?"
"Why are you so hellbent on keeping me in a bubble?"
"Because I'm scared for you, Princess. You never let us in until it's too late. You don't trust any of us, not truly." That shut Emily up. She stormed off to the back room. The others looked at each other in worry.
"You just had to bring up Doyle, didn't you Derek?" Alex fumed.
"Well I'm right, aren't I?"
"That's not the point, Morgan. That really wasn't that long ago, it's an open wound."
"Wait, slow down, who is Doyle?" James looked at Alex.
"Do you want to tell him?"
"Not really," she replied dryly, rubbing her palms into her eyes.
"He's been here for a while, he should know."
"Emily obviously doesn't want him to. And I'm not going to be the one to break her trust," Alex said before retreating into the shelves. James shrugged in a "you heard her" gesture.
As James went back to work, Hotch had one thought: who was Emily Prentiss, and what happened to her?
As soon as Hotch got home that night, he sat down at his computer to try and find out more about this. Opening Google, he quickly typed in the name "Ian Doyle." Only a few results popped up. Someone on Instagram that he'd never heard of, a few random articles, and then one that caught his eye. A crime database. Clicking the link, it brought him to a mugshot of someone older than him, maybe about 26. He had been charged for assault, battery, and… kidnapping. There was no additional information, but Hotch thought back to what Morgan had said before Emily cut him off. Ian Doyle is a psychopath.
Did Emily really have a run-in with a psychopath? And why didn't she want him to know? The rest of their friends knew. Why not him? As much as he wished it didn't, it kind of hurt. He had thought that him and Emily had grown closer over the last few weeks. Clearly that wasn't true. Not as much as he thought.
He deleted Doyle's name from the search bar, and instead of closing his computer, he typed in Emily's. His screen was immediately filled with images of a middle-age woman that was identified as Elizabeth Prentiss. Prentiss can't be that common of a name, right? He thought. He clicked on one of the articles.
Ambassador Elizabeth Prentiss stresses issues with new laws, claiming they are working against conservative families and Catholics.
Yikes, he thought to himself. Exiting out of the article, he clicked a list called 25 Most Beautiful Pictures of the Prentisses. Scrolling quickly through the list, he was about to give up when he saw a picture of a familiar face. Emily was in the picture. It had been taken recently, within the last few months or so.
It was clear that she didn't know she was being photographed. Her head was turned over her shoulder slightly, with her hair falling around her neck. She was wearing something slightly different from her usual attire, a black dress that went down to her knees. In the moonlight, her eyes looked as dark as the sky itself. She looked beautiful. The caption read, Elizabeth Prentiss's daughter, Emily Prentiss, August 25th.
Daughter? He thought to himself. Emily is a diplomat's daughter?
Emily Prentiss, the Ambassador's daughter.
A/N: My tumblr is thestrawberrygirl if you want to ask questions or learn more about this story!
