Author's Note: This oneshot is heavily based from the episode 7x01, "It Takes a Village." It is Morgan's point of view of when Hotch reveals to the team that Emily is actually alive, and then it goes off into him writing a little entry on his view on things at the end of it. I hope you all enjoy it, and don't forget to review.

WARNING: Contains Spoilers (kind of), and there is some coarse language used.

They were all around the circular table in the conference room when Hotch walked in a few moments after I had done so. Reid was across from me, Garcia standing beside him - who then moved to sit in the closest chair. JJ and Rossi were standing to my right, facing our Unit Chief.

"Welcome back," I commented, an eyebrow raised at Hotch's messy beard. I can see why he had let it grow, considering where he had just come back from.

"Thanks," he nodded slightly, a grim expression on his face. "Everybody take a seat."

Obeying our bosses orders, Reid and Rossi sat down in the closest chairs, glancing at each other. JJ moved to stand beside Hotch, while I chose to remain standing. Something was telling me in my gut - I didn't know what it was yet - that this was... important.

"Why? What's going on? Everything alright?" I asked, confusion coloring my voice.

Our unit chief didn't look up from the floor as he spoke, while everyone eyed him carefully. "Seven months ago I made a decision that affected this team..."

A pause.

"As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle - but the doctors were able to stabilize her," he said in an even tone, glancing at all of us. I was aware of the heads looking towards him in utter shock - but I couldn't even move, but a shocked, confused expression plastered onto my face. He continued on. "She was airlifted from Boston, and would then go through undercover exploitation."

My head snapped down to Rossi, panic visible in my eyes. What? He looked back up at me, a confused frown on his face.

"Her identity was strictly need-to-know. And she stayed there until she was well enough to travel. She was reassigned to Paris where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to, for her security," Hotch continued on.

Tension burned in the small room. Everyone was staring at our Unit Chief with panic, confusion, and disbelief all very evident in our body language and expressions. Breaking the silence, a choked whisper escaped from Garcia's lips. "She's alive?"

Hotch refused to look up from the floor, or make eye contact with any of us.

"But we buried her..." Reid mumbled.

"As I said I take full responsibility for the decision... if anyone has and issues, they should be directed towards me," Hotch replied, finally looking up from the ground.

Are you kidding me? Are you fucking joking? I face the fact for nearly seven months - which was pure hell - that my best friend had died right in front of me. Hotch even went as far to give us grief counseling... I had to endure the pain of not being able to save my partner, my friend; all to find out that she was alive all this time. I prayed, every night, that I would get to be able to see her face again. To be able to give her a hug when she needed it, or to encourage her when things got rough. And for her to be able to do the same things for me, as well. "Any issues? Yeah, I got issues."

Right as I spat that out, the whole room went silent. Hotch motioned with his head towards the door behind us, and I froze. There were footsteps.

Standing at that door, as I finally turned around, was Emily Prentiss.

I very faintly heard the quiet and broken whisper of "Oh my God," that came from Garcia as I stared at the woman that I thought that I would never see again. My head whipped back and forth between her and Hotch, a deeply shocked expression on my face. Emily is standing right in front of me.

There was silence in the room for a very long moment - no one moved, no one did anything, as they stared at the black haired agent for the first time in seven months, the agent that had been a part of our family for years, but suddenly got ripped away from us. All while Hotch and JJ knew. Suddenly, the heavy tension in the room broke and Garcia slowly stood up, followed by Reid and Rossi. Spencer immediately went to give Emily a hug, which she gently returned. Garcia was next; and after that, Prentiss began speaking for the first time since she walked in, gently looking at Garcia and Reid. "I am so sorry, I really am, not a day went by that I didn't wanna-"

And that's when she looked at me for the first time in seven months. The last time I got to make eye contact with her was when she was dying in my arms, a piece of wood stabbed deeply into her stomach by that son of a bitch named Ian Doyle.

Garcia and Reid looked towards me as she began speaking again. "Really, I..." she paused, walking towards me further with a sad expression on her face. "You didn't deserve that," she finished her sentence quietly. I wanted to... well, I didn't know what I really wanted to do. Maybe I wanted to slap myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming - or maybe start telling Hotch about my 'issues' about this whole thing. But, most of all, I wanted to feel what it felt like to hug my best friend again. "And I'm... so sorry," she continued, gently placing a hand on my left upper arm. The first contact that I had with her in months - the contact I never thought I would be able to feel again.

Emily gently wrapped her arms around me, and I couldn't move for a very long moment in time. Losing your best friend in front of you was something that no one wanted to experience, and I knew and had to deal with the fact for the past seven months, that if I got into the building a mere two minutes earlier... she would've been still with us. Now, of course, here she is, right in front of me, her arms wrapped around my body in a gentle hug.

Managing to pull myself out of that frozen position, I returned the hug with the same gentleness. She still seemed so fragile and weak in my mind, since for the past months all I could think about was my last few moments with her. The bloody, broken, and scarred agent that had been one of my closest friends since first few months that she joined the BAU. Tears sprung in my eyes from the present moment and the memory, and I struggled to swallow the lump that had formed in my throat.

She pulled away eventually, and her and the rest of the team in my midst went to talking about Declan and things that they needed to find him safely. Reid immediately went and started asking her questions like nothing had happened - how could he do that? Sure, he didn't have to deal with the fact that it was half of his fault for his friend dying - but as far as I could tell from the past seven months, it has been as much of a hell for him as it was for me.

All the team's voices turned into background noise as I was pushed into memories of the past months. Taking the time every single night, to close my eyes and pray that things would get better over time. Truthfully, they did before this day. Kind of. I was slowly able to bring myself to accept the fact that I was never going to see my best friend ever again, that - just like my father all those years ago - she will just be a memory in my mind. Really, the last few moments I got with my dad was much better than it was with Prentiss. The last thing we did together is hug, and he ruffled my hair, telling me that he loved me and that he would be home soon. Yeah, like that ever happened. My few moments with Prentiss was me telling her that I was proud of her and that I knew that she would make it and that she was the strongest person I knew; right before the paramedics loaded her into the ambulance. I almost took on the role of my father in that moment - telling her that she would be okay. My dad told me often that things would be okay eventually. Maybe this is why that this whole thing was so hard - Hotch lying to us - to me - when he knew how angry I would get. Yes, I was angry. But more than that, I just really didn't want to take my eyes off of the woman in front of me whom I thought I was gone forever. My best friend.

As I write this now, I realize how correct my father was in that statement that everything will be okay eventually. It always will be, even if you believe with all your heart that they won't. With my father, my whole entire world collapsed. My mother went into depression, and so did my sisters. I will be honest and admit that I didn't quite get to that low of a point, and I say this because I'm a strong person. Growing up with the childhood that I was given molded me into that. Trust issues are, and always have bee, one of my weaknesses; but I have a damn good reason to be that way. Maybe this is why I don't trust anyone completely - not Hotch, JJ, Garcia, Rossi, Prentiss, or even Reid. But life goes on, and you have to learn how to accept change. Because, really, that's all you can do.

-Derek Morgan