Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, Criminal Minds.

Full Circle
Part 5

By N. J. Borba

Derek swallowed two ibuprofen with a chug of lukewarm coffee and then headed down the hall toward the conference room. He had a horrible headache; undoubtedly a combination of no sleep and guilt. But mostly guilt. He'd been hoping to sleep on his overnight flight back to Virginia, but after the way things had ended with Emily he'd spent the whole flight wide awake. Derek had gone over everything in his head a dozen times and still hadn't been able to figure out how his mouth had let those terrible words escape. He'd landed at 7am eastern time and decided not to bother going home. After a shower and change in the BAU locker room, Morgan gulped down a whole pot of coffee and hid in his office until their daily meeting started.

He walked into the BAU room, trying to hold his head up high in an attempt to fool his colleagues. But the first comment out of Rossi's mouth told him he'd failed at that too. "You look like hell," Dave noted.

"Thanks," Derek replied as he slipped into the chair beside Reid. He glanced around and noticed that everyone was there except for Hotch.

JJ sat forward in her seat. "So..."

Morgan could tell that her word was directed at him. "So, what?"

"Garcia told me this morning that you took Friday off because of another Emily phantom chase, this time in Seattle." JJ tried to make light of the situation, because after three years they'd all pretty much become resigned to the fact that Emily didn't want to be found, and therefore never would be. It was mostly a matter of not getting their hopes up, just to have them dashed again.

"I saw her in Seattle, even talked to her," Derek replied, somewhat cryptically, not wanting to go into detail. He could see the surprise on everyone's faces, much the same as his face when Emily had opened her door to him four days ago.

"Really?" Reid was instantly curious about his missing friend. He'd gone through a period of feeling betrayed by her leaving, because it had felt a lot like Gideon's abrupt departure. Although Emily hadn't even left him, or anyone on the team, a note. But he'd worked past that hurt feeling and for most of the last three years he'd been more concerned than anything. Even now, as a bunch of different questions plagued his mind about Emily, one outweighed them all. "Is she okay?"

"She's... fine," Morgan replied.

Hotch joined them a second after that. He too noticed Derek's tired, but mostly forlorn, appearance. "Long weekend didn't exactly go well, I take it?"

"He found Emily," Rossi replied in Morgan's stead.

"In Seattle," Reid added.

The team leader barely blinked. "And she's..."

Morgan sighed. "She's fine." He turned his head toward JJ. "Don't we have a briefing to get to?"

JJ nodded, grabbed the remote in front of her and stood. Everyone diligently focused on work as they proceeded with the meeting, but they all had a pretty good feeling that Derek's standard answer of, she's fine, was only telling a very small portion of the story.

xxx

"Daddy ducky," Beth said as she tried to scoop scrambled eggs up with the spoon in her left hand. After her third attempt she abandoned the spoon and opted for using her fingers, which had so far never let her down. "Daddy swing... daddy play..." she continued to jabber on, even as she stuffed eggs into her mouth.

Emily flipped through the pages in her daily planner, checking what she had scheduled for Monday. She sat beside Beth, but tried hard to tune out what her daughter was talking about. "Please don't speak with your mouth full, baby," she gently reminded the child, the way she'd done so many times before. Sometimes it felt like talking to a brick wall. Which wasn't too far off from what it had felt like talking to Derek recently.

"Daddy feed duckies..." the girl continued her rambling thoughts. "Daddy push... swing..."

Just about every other word out of Beth's mouth that morning, since the moment she'd woken up, had been: daddy. And so far, Emily had been successfully avoiding the topic. But that obviously wasn't going to work very well. She rested her fork on the side of her plate, took a deep breath and turned to the child. "Bethy, daddy's not here today. Daddy went home and we're probably not going to see daddy for... well, maybe not for a while," Emily told her.

"Roll ball?" Beth asked. "Daddy roll."

"Sweetie," Emily sighed, trying to find some way to explain the situation to the two year old.

Beth picked up her spoon again, but not with any intention of using it for eating. She banged it against her plate as loudly as possible. "Swing!" she squealed. "Daddy push... daddy ducky..." Beth tapped the utensil against her plate after each pause. "Daddy feed... daddy ball... daddy swing..."

"Daddy's not going to play with you today!" Emily finally shouted. An instant later she clamped a hand over her mouth. "Oh, God," she moaned, watching Beth as she sat there in her booster seat, hand raised with her tiny fingers wrapped around the spoon. Beth didn't cry, though, she just looked bewildered. And Emily felt like the worst mother in the world. "I'm sorry baby, I am so sorry." She remembered thinking that the one thing she'd never do as a parent was raise her voice at her child the way her parents sometimes had.

"No cry..." Beth reached out to touch Emily's cheek were a tear had fallen. "Mama... no cry."

Emily held Beth's little hand to her lips. She kissed each finger and the palm, apologizing again without words. "You know what? Mama doesn't have a meeting today until this evening," Emily let go of the small hand and wiped away her tear. "Why don't we play on the swing and mama will push you as long as you want. And we can plant the sweet peas in the garden and play with the ball too. Okay?"

"Mama play," Beth smiled as she tried her luck with using the spoon again to scoop up her breakfast.

The eggs on Emily's plate got pushed around some more as she tried to forgive herself for yelling at her daughter.

xxx

After their briefing that morning, which didn't result in them taking on a new case, Derek retreated to his office and sat behind the closed door for several hours catching up on paper work. That afternoon, a few more ibuprofen and several more cups of coffee later, Garcia knocked at his door and stuck her head in. Derek glanced up at her. "You told JJ about me going to Seattle?" he asked.

Penelope took that as her cue to step fully into his office. "Was that supposed to be some big secret?" She pulled out the chair in front of him and sunk in to it, regarding her friend's ragged appearance. "You don't look so good. What happened in Seattle?"

"You mean you haven't talked to JJ since our meeting?"

"Nope, I've been working all morning," Garcia replied, sensing that he was avoiding her questions. "Spill, secret agent-man."

Derek decided the direct approach was best. "Emily Stewart is in fact, Emily Prentiss," he told her.

"Wow," Garcia nodded. She really hadn't been expecting such good news. Although the look on Derek's face told her that maybe it wasn't the happy news they'd been hoping for. "So, why do you look like someone just died? What's she been doing all this time?"

"Keeping secrets," Morgan replied.

Garcia's brows furrowed. "What does that mean? Some sort of witness protection type thing, or..."

"No," he shook his head, reaching for the top desk drawer. He opened it and pulled out the small photo album that Emily had given him the night before. "I told you about what happened between Emily and I before she took off, all of it," Morgan watched as Garcia nodded. She was the only one he'd ever confessed that secret to. "Well, this is what Emily has been keeping from me for three years." He handed the book to her.

"She's been taking pictures?" Penelope asked, seeing the first image but not really focusing on it. A few seconds later, after turning the pages in rapid succession, she looked up at Derek with her mouth hanging open. "Oh my God," she finally said, understanding dawning. "This is... oh my God, Derek. You have a kid?"

He couldn't help smiling as he thought about his little girl. "Her name is Beth."

"Aww," Garcia looked at all the pictures again. "She is the most adorable, cute, darling little thing. I want to squish her and kiss those sweet cheeks," she gushed. Penelope aimed her eyes at Derek again. "You and Emily made one gorgeous baby. I have to say, I'm a bit jealous," she winked, letting him know the last few words were just a joke. "Seriously, this has got to be the best news."

"How is that?"

She stared at him like he was a little bit mad. "Well, obviously Emily has to move back here now so the two of you can raise this sweet baby girl of yours."

Morgan scoffed. "Garcia, what kind of Disneyland fantasy world do you live in?" he questioned her. "Emily lied to me, for three years about this... about my daughter."

"Okay, I get that..." her voice remained calm, like she was dealing with a petulant child. "I know the two of you have issues, like the fact that you are both too stubborn and proud to actually admit that you have feelings for one another." She rolled her eyes at the stunned look on his face. "But this is a child we're talking about here, and you need to raise her together. Maybe not in the same house, but at least in the same general vicinity, because Seattle is way the heck across the country. Granted, that will get you some nice frequent flier miles, but it's gonna be hell on you as far as having any actual daddy time with Her Royal Highness; The Princess of Cute-dom."

He smiled again for a second, but the expression waned. "Yeah, well that's probably all a non-issue at this point, after the way I left things with Emily."

Penelope frowned, fearing she wasn't going to like the answer to her next question. "And how did you leave things with her?"

Derek sighed, knowing his best friend would have plenty to say about his behavior. But he told her anyway, needing to get it off his chest. He launched into a full tale of every little detail about his trip, from the first second he'd seen Emily on her hands and knees cleaning up Cheerios, to the last second when he'd seen the disappointment flash behind her silent brown eyes. Now, as Derek sat waiting for some reaction, he watched a silent Garcia. "And you're not saying anything either."

"Nope, I'm looking for evidence."

"Evidence of what?"

She cocked her head to the left for a moment and then to the right. "Bruises, scratch marks, maybe a bullet hole through your shoulder..." Garcia rattled off the many possible wounds. "But you look relatively unscathed. Emily must be going soft, because I'd have decked you."

He almost laughed, believing with all his heart that Garcia would have done just that. "Trust me, P... I didn't go unscathed." If the feeling in the pit of his stomach was any indication, Derek had born the brunt of his own words worse than Emily.

"So, what possessed you to be such a jerk?"

Morgan couldn't help love her straightforwardness. "I don't know, pick an emotion; anger, hurt, fear. I was scared. I was terrified of never seeing them again."

She shook her head at him. "Grow up."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, I said grow up," Penelope repeated.

"So, I'm not allowed to have feelings?" he asked. "I love you, girl, but don't quit your day job, because you'd make a lousy therapist."

Garcia smiled. "Yeah, well I'm not getting paid for this, am I? And, yes, of course you're allowed to have feelings. I'm sorry. But you have a daughter, Derek. You're a dad. The days of self pity and those knee-jerk reactions you're prone to are over now. You need to be a man and take care of your responsibilities. I know what Emily did to you was horrible. She shouldn't have lied about something like this. But you need to work past those surface feelings of yours, because they're not going to get you anywhere. You need to figure out what it is you really want out of life."

Derek reclined in his chair. "I want to see my daughter again. How do I do that?"

"First and foremost, you do anything and everything it takes to get back into Emily's good graces, because she's pretty much your only ticket to having any relationship with your daughter. You beg, barter, plead... get down on your knees and grovel." Garcia opened the album again and showed Derek a picture of Beth with a huge toothless grin on her face. "She's worth falling on your pride-sword. And if you and Emily hurt this precious little creature with your petty bickering, I'll hurt you," Penelope vowed.

xxx

Derek stayed at work a lot later than usual, catching up on some things he'd missed by being gone on Friday. He finally switched from coffee to water at about 4pm and was feeling a little less shaky. At nine o'clock he stumbled through the door of his apartment, flicked on the light and stared at his boring walls which didn't show any sign of toddler artwork. He found a boxed meal in his freezer and tossed it into the microwave, waiting the requisite amount of time for it to "cook". The lasagna tasted like salty cardboard and his silent apartment practically echoed the sigh of his loneliness. He longed to hear Emily tell Beth not to eat so fast. And to listen as Beth repeated every other word out of her mother's mouth.

After the cardboard-lasagna had gone cold, he threw it in the trash and sat down at his desk. A laptop was open in front of him and he waited for it to boot up as he stared at the phone to his left. Derek picked it up and dialed her number, but he ended the call before it went through. "Shit," he mumbled to himself.

The cordless phone slipped back into the cradle and he rubbed a hand over his head as he stared at the internet search page. Derek typed in the words: stuffed duck. He immediately got a list of recipes for the preparation of duck. A small smile curled his lips. He then typed in toy at the end of those two words and hit enter again. The second search revealed several pictures of stuffed yellow ducks, and cartoon character ducks; Donald, Daisy and Daffy. "No neon colors... something more like the ones at the lake," he recalled Emily's words.

In between the words stuffed and duck he typed in: mallard. He didn't really expect anything to turn up, but a second later his page was filled with mallard duck images. And a lot of them were stuffed animals. The first looked almost exactly like a real duck, but it also seemed a little too real. The fourth image caught his eye and he grinned, clicking on the picture to get to the website. Derek was practically ecstatic to see that it was available for purchase online. The mallard looked real enough, but had just enough cute, cuddly character to be a toy he thought his little girl would love.

He quickly filled out the order form, putting in Emily's address for delivery, and even paid extra for next day shipping. When the order was final, Derek realized buying his way back into Beth's life was not the solution. He also heard Garcia's words in his head, telling him to grow up. Derek starred at the phone again but hesitated because it was so late, until he remembered it was four hours earlier there and Emily would still be awake. With no excuses left, he finally picked up the phone and hit redial. Morgan waited through six rings and then heard her voicemail message play.

"...and I'll get back to you."

"Emily, hi... it's me, Derek. I'm kind of glad I got your voicemail because I'm sure you'd probably just hang up on me, and you'd have every right. I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am about last night, for what I said. I didn't mean it, but that still doesn't make it right. And I don't want any stupid paternity test either. I know that Beth is my daughter and all I want right now is to find out if I have any shot of seeing her again. However you want to work this out, I'm willing to meet you half way. Just please, give me a call back when you get this message."

Derek hung up the phone, hoping that was enough apology to at least reopen the lines of communication between them.

xxx

Emily glanced around the small parking lot and held her bag close as she walked to her car. There was still plenty of light in the evening sky, but years worth of law enforcement work had caused her to always be hyper aware of her surroundings. The meeting with her client had gone later than she'd planned. Dinner with Beth was no longer an option since it would take her another half hour or longer, depending on traffic, to get home. But she could at least make it back in time to tuck her daughter in to bed. Emily recalled how the bedtime ritual had been changed the night before by Derek's inclusion. Those thoughts clouded her head as she settled into her car and locked the doors. She was just about to start the vehicle when her cell phone rang.

Glad that she wasn't on the road yet, Emily picked up the device to check who was calling. She figured it was Silvia checking to see when she'd be back, but saw instead that it was Derek. Emily sighed, letting it ring for a moment. "Speak of the devil," she whispered. "Or, rather... think." Emily had spent over two hours in her dark room Sunday night, performing some picture developing therapy and trying to calm down after Derek had left. Her afternoon spent playing with Beth had also helped heal her disappointment, both in Derek and in herself . She knew it would be best for Beth if they worked through their troubles sooner rather than later. With a deep breath, Emily finally decided to answer.

But the sound of shattering glass and the touch of a strangers gloved hand, one at the back of her neck and one over her mouth, caused Emily to drop the phone. It all happened so fast she could barely think, let alone react. Emily gripped the steering wheel, digging her nails in as she tried to turn her head and catch some small glimpse of her attacker. She was in a horribly un-defendable position, though, the way she was seated. If she let go of the wheel she could try to pry his hand off her mouth and scream for help, or she could use the free hand to start her car and maybe put it in gear and hit the gas peddle. Both options were a long shot, but she had to at least try.

The second her right hand let go, the attacker gained enough leverage to bash her head against the steering wheel. Emily didn't have time to lament her decision as her head collided with the wheel a second time, and then a third as well. The man, she assumed it was a man from the strength of his grip, said nothing but removed his hand from her mouth as he pushed her head against the wheel yet again. Emily thought about offering him her cash or the car, but she had a feeling he wasn't the type of assailant interested in such things. Besides that, she couldn't even seem to form words as her skull throbbed and blood trickled down the right side of her face.

As Emily felt her conscious mind rapidly retreat to a darker place, her last thoughts were of how she was going to miss saying goodnight to Beth.

To Be Continued...