For Graveygraves. Hope you like it and it's what you were expecting.

Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word

Em hesitated for a long moment. She could run - try to make a break for it - honestly, what were the odds of him catching her? And though her body was propelling forward, her feet were stuck to the floor. She had to stay and face the moment of truth. After all they had been through, she owed him that much. Didn't she?

"Sit!" Dave's tone was a bit more forceful that usual. Though a part of her wanted to disobey, the logical part warned her that it might be best to heed his words. Trudging slowly to the couch, Em sat down.

"Now, was that so hard?" Dave asked sarcastically. He handed her the glass of scotch. "Drink," he ordered.

As the fight left her body, Em raised the glass to her lips and sipped the potent liquid. Strong and fiery, it burned a path down her throat. But she dared not cough - that would be a sign of weakness. Swallowing hard, she placed the glass on the table.

For a long moment, neither person spoke as the fire crackled loudly. The air was heavy with anticipation as Em waited for the other shoe to drop. Dave Rossi had ordered her to stay, so he wanted something. Twice she opened her mouth to start speaking, but the words never came. She wanted to tell him everything, but how? There was nothing she could say that could erase the past year. There was no excuse to wipe away the pain and hurt she had caused everyone. She had - in all essence - fucked up.

Dave puffed on his cigar as he watched Em's reaction by the soft glow of the fire. He saw the conflict dance across her delicate features as she willed her body to stay and accept his judgment. Her face was not as delicate as he remembered. There were the little lines in the corner of her eyes, and the black circles under her eyes caused by fatigue, regret, and loss. The smile he remembered so well was still there but it no longer reached her eyes. The dancing light that used to make her eyes snap was gone. What the hell had she gone thru in the year she was gone? He was dying to know.

"Why did you come back?" he asked matter of fact.

Em hesitated. It was a double meaning question. She had come back to the BAU and she had come back to his place. She had had a reason for both. Which one did she dare give when chances were he wouldn't believe either one.

"I had to."

"You had to or you wanted to?" Dave puffed on his cigar.

"Does it matter?" She shrugged.

"Yes."

"I had an obligation to help out," Em replied carefully.

"And this….what you did tonight by coming back? Was that an obligation?"

"It was the least I could do since…." Em reached for her glass and took a big gulp. She wasn't going to be able to drive but it was obvious that Rossi had had that in mind when he handed her the drink. "You went out of your way to accommodate us and invite us into your home, and I thought I could pay you back."

"Cleaning my kitchen was due to a guilty conscience?" Dave raised his eyebrow mockingly.

"No." Em bit her lip. "Maybe."

"I thought so. So, why didn't you just leave? Why not get in your car and go home?"

"I couldn't."

Dave watched her for a long moment.

"What happened while you were gone?"

Em blinked back the sudden rush of tears. "Nothing," she responded in a tight voice. She wouldn't cry in front of him. Not now. Not ever.

"You were on the run for nearly a year with no contact other than JJ and Hotch. You were by yourself...alone," Dave observed. His tone held an edge but it was softer.

"It is what it is." Em shrugged again, but this time she didn't meet Dave's eyes.

"Maybe to you. But it was hell for us."

Em tried to find an answer that wouldn't come.

"Do you know what it was like for us thinking you were dead?" Dave continued in a low tone. He was accusing and he was angry. But he was trying to hold on to his temper. "Your 'death' nearly destroyed the team. This scotch you're drinking….I went thru three bottles trying to find solace. Who knew that the answer I needed to my questions was in the office next to mine?"

"Don't blame Hotch," Em replied defensively.

"Should I blame you?"

"Why not? I brought Doyle into your lives."

"Yes you did," he agreed.

"And I put you all in danger," Em's voice quavered ever so noticeably.

"I can't argue with that."

"I wasn't honest with you….with the team," she amended quickly. "I wasn't as forthcoming as I could have been."

Dave cocked his head. "No shit, Emily. Which part of everything that happened do you think that applies to?"

"If I could go back and change one thing…"

"You wouldn't change anything. You'd do it over the same way," Dave corrected. "Maybe you might have left sooner and hidden."

"But that wouldn't have taken the target off your backs."

"It's been my experience that wishing to change everything is fruitless. Or could this be an easing of your conscience as I mentioned earlier?"

"I…." Em started. She wanted to run as fast and as far as she could. Nothing was going as she had dreamt. In fact, the opposite - everything she had feared - was coming true.

"I know what you told the team, but I want to hear the truth. What happened while you were gone?"

Em extended her glass toward Dave. "Could I have some more? Please?" If she was going to confront her future by coming clean about her past, she was doing it totally drunk off her ass.

Leaning forward, Dave raised the bottle and poured it carefully into Em's glass. Topping off his own, he set the bottle down with a thud. Raising his glass to his lips, he waited for Emily Prentiss's story of why she ran, and why she came back.