"Am I in danger?"

"We all are."


When Agent Prentiss steps outside of the restaurant, a rush of icy wind slaps her across the face. Shivering, she squares her shoulders and pulls her coat tighter around herself. She's not quite sure whether it's just the chill of the night that creeps into her bones.

"Emily."

The weight of the large hand on her shoulder feels grounding. She looks up and meets Sean's gaze. The hard look in his eyes is even more settling than the touch.

"We'll get him," he says in an uncompromising voice. "Like we did the first time."

"Of course," Emily agrees, nodding briskly. Of course they'll get him. She has to believe that, just like she had believed it the first time. She tries not to remember how many lives had been lost in the pursuit.

"Let me take you home."

She nods again, without a thought of disagreement, and falls into step with her old friend. The harsh words of her former boss, reaching through her from many years ago, rings in her ears: as long as that man is on the loose, nobody goes anywhere alone.

Right, boss, she thinks as she gets into Sean's rental jeep. Constant company had not prevented six of her colleagues' demise at the hands of Ian Doyle. But at the moment, it's still the most solid piece of advice that she's got.

It takes a ridiculously short time to reach her apartment across Capitol Hill. She can't even remember giving Sean the directions. The jeep gently comes to a halt, right in front of the steps to her apartment, and she breathes deeply. Turning aside, she grips Sean's calloused hand and squeezes it like a lifeline.

"Keep in touch."

It sounds very much like a plea.

"I will." Sean pauses, his eyes boring into hers. "Emily, you should reconsider leaving the country."

She shakes her head. "I can't. You know it doesn't matter to him where we are," she presses when Sean tries to argue. "I will be safer with my team," she adds. It's not clear whether she's reassuring Sean or herself.

Sean breaks eye contact and turns his unsettled gaze to the bright lights surrounding the Capitol Hill. "I'll be on the move; so will Parks and Monroe," he supplies in a low, rusty voice. Emily has always liked that about him; Sean's voice is a token of his mood. When he's in a good mood, his booms like thunder, exploding with a contagious energy. When he's sober, it's as hard as rock. But when he addresses her again, that rock is eroded with worry.

"You shouldn't stay put, Emily. You're too easy to locate here in DC-"

"-spending my every minute with the best agents the Bureau's got," she cuts him across. It's like the words are leaving her mouth out of her own accord; why she's trying to argue with him, she isn't sure.

"It didn't do us any good the last time," Sean says forcefully. He throws suspicious glances outside through the apartment, checking the street from the rear mirror. Emily leans in closer to him.

"I work with the best team in the Bureau," she says, emphasizing every single word. "If there's any chance of me being safe from Doyle, it is with them."

"So you will tell them about him," Sean states.

"I don't know," Emily admits slowly, leaning back in her seat. "If the Interpol has reopened the case –"

"Tell them."

Emily frowns.

"If you trust them to keep you safe, they need to know what you need protection from. Screw Interpol; this is your life we're talking about."

Swallowing, Emily nods her agreement.

"Are you leaving tonight?" she asks.

"Yeah. I'm headed to the airport now."

She doesn't ask where he's going, or under what name. She just nods. "Be careful, Sean."

"You too," Sean replies. For the first time, there's a touch of softness in his voice.

With a final squeeze of his hand, Emily lets go and climbs out of the car. The first thing she notices is that the nearest street light is out of function. A foggy darkness floats about the pavement until it dissolves into the faint light at the top of the stairs. Her own creeping shadow on the asphalt looks like a gothic décor; she quickly averts her gaze and looks back to Sean's worried face. Walking around the car, she climbs the steps and turns around to look at her friend for one last time.

Sean raises his hand in salutation, and Emily responds in kind. Then, the engine grumbles in the muffled silence of the street, and far quicker than she would have liked, Sean is gone.

She walks quickly into the building and closes the door.

She knows that until Doyle is caught again, her life will never be the same.