Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, Criminal Minds.
Angel
Part 6
By
N. J. Borba
"I'm an alcoholic," Emily bravely informed the group.
The words sounded strange to her, but truthful. She watched their faces, wondering what they were thinking. Saying those words had been difficult, but not as upsetting as imagining the group having to learn of her death. It was Friday morning, just a few days after one of her worst drinking binges, and Emily had a feeling that if Derek hadn't shown up when he did, the week could have ended a lot worse.
"Are you okay?" JJ was the first to respond.
Emily shook her head. "Not for a while now," she replied. Every eye was still aimed her way. "I know we work a very stressful job, and I also know you all have families and private lives away from this place. I don't want to put any more stress on any of you, so you can feel free to tell me if I'm over stepping here." Emily paused, nervous about their reactions. "I just feel safer telling you guys this than I would a room full of strangers."
The room was quiet as they digested her words. "We put our lives on the line for complete strangers every day," Rossi finally spoke. "I think I speak for the whole group here when I say we'd just as willingly support you in any way possible."
"An ear to bend," JJ immediately offered.
"Retail therapy shopping pal," Garcia added.
"Advice from someone who…" Reid hesitated a second, "Can relate."
Spencer's offer touched her deepest, because Emily knew he'd dealt with his own issues of addiction a few years back. "I plan to take you up on all of those offers," she nodded, catching Derek's eye specifically. He'd already provided the greatest support imaginable.
"Do you need some time off?" Hotch asked.
Worry coursed through her body as she feared he might demand she take time away from the job. "I know I've demonstrated some erratic behavior recently, but I think this job is one of the few things keeping me from completely unspooling. I don't want to lose it," she let the team leader know.
Hotch would've preferred a more private setting for the conversation, but he nodded. "We'll take it a day at a time," he offered.
"You know…" JJ piped in again. "I've heard that spending time with kids and pets can often reduce stress," she said, hoping to ease some of the room's tension. "So, anytime you'd like to babysit, Will and I would be eternally grateful for a night off."
The room filled with soft laughter. Emily found it a nice contrast to the morning she'd spend worrying about how to tell them. It seemed the plain, simple true had been best. It was a concept she was slowly learning to embrace. They trickled out of the conference room, not wanting to overwhelm her. Reid stayed behind, worry etched across his youthful forehead. "I meant what I said," he reiterated.
"And you have no idea how much that means to me," Emily smiled for him.
He grinned as well. "I believe your cousin would also be willing to support you. She asks me stuff about you all the time. I think she'd really like to know you better."
Curiosity got the better of her. "I gather that means the two of you are still seeing each other?"
His cheeks flushed a little. "I like her. She doesn't think it's odd when I talk about random facts. She's smart and funny. Actually reminds me a lot of you," Reid instantly felt embarrassed for saying that. "I don't mean that I ever… you've always been like a sister to me," he stammered. "Angie is definitely not like a sister."
"Enough said, Reid," Emily stopped him. "I'm glad you two have become… friends," she did her best to sound diplomatic about the situation. "And I'll definitely give your advice some thought." She took a cleansing breath, already thinking it over. "I really would like to know Angie better, too."
Reid smiled again. "Then talk to her."
As Emily watched him exit the conference room she wished it could be that easy. "He's right," Derek said, appearing at the open door. He moved into the room and sat beside her, even placed his hand on her thigh. Morgan didn't want to sneak around their relationship any longer. "I think you know that Angie walking into your life has been the catalyst for most of this," he stated. "And talking to her will help."
"Everyone seems to think talking helps," Emily sighed, still unsettled by her mother's dismissal.
"Didn't it help just now?" Morgan challenged.
She nodded. "Yes, but…" Emily stalled. "I don't want to disappoint Angie," she finally confessed her greatest fear. He was right about talking being a help, but in this case that concept was easier understood than acted upon. "How about a smaller first step?"
"Like what?" he was game, as long as it meant he never had to find her at death's door again.
"Scott Hayden sent me another letter," she revealed. "He wants to meet for dinner tonight. I've been debating it the last few days, especially after everything that's happened this week. But now I think it might be another positive step."
"Then you should go," Morgan encouraged.
xxx
She entered the busy Italian restaurant and headed toward the hostess. "I'm meeting Scott Hayden."
The young blonde woman nodded. "Right this way," she ushered Emily along, passing through the throng of Friday night diners. At a small table by the window, Emily spotted the man she'd briefly spoken to over a month ago.
"Ms. Prentiss?" Scott stood, neatly attired in dark slacks and a navy sweater. He waited as the hostess retreated before saying anything more. "This is a surprise."
Emily easily noticed that the expression on his face was indeed one of curiosity. "May I sit?" she asked. He nodded and they each settled into high-backed chairs. "You weren't expecting me here, were you?" she finally inquired.
His head shook. "Angie invited me for dinner," the man informed her. "But I think it's good that she asked you as well," he added.
Confusion reigned as Emily further tried to figure out the mystery. "So, the letter you sent…"
"What letter?" Scott instantly questioned.
"The most recent one," Emily fished it out of her bag. "You haven't sent me any letters, have you?"
Scott's salt and pepper hair waved a little as his head shook. He took the letter she'd produced, unfolded it and sighed. "I'm sorry for the confusion." He smoothed the pages and laid them out on the table between the two of them. "But this is my daughter's handwriting," he revealed.
"Well, this is awkward," Emily sighed.
He chuckled. "This actually isn't the first time Angie's done something like this. In fourth grade she set me up with her piano teacher, Miss Davis. In high school it was the single mother of a school friend, and in college she even arranged for me to casually meet her English Lit professor," he explained. "She's been trying to find me a wife for many years now. I guess I shouldn't be surprised she'd try with you."
Emily couldn't help sympathizing with the girl. "I guess I'm flattered that Angie would want us to… but I'm not…"
"Interested?" he nodded understandingly. "Don't worry, Ms. Prentiss. I'm not interested in you either. At least not romantically."
Relief flooded her. "Please, call me Emily."
"If you'll call me Scott," the man offered.
With a nod she carefully folded the letter back up. "I'm sorry about all this. I should probably go."
"No, stay," Scott insisted. "We're both here and need to eat," he pointed out. "And Angie's not the only one with stories. I can tell you some, if you'd like. My guess is you're interested, otherwise you wouldn't have come here tonight."
He was right. "I appreciate the offer, if you're sure?" Emily asked.
"I am," Scott maintained.
xxx
On Saturday afternoon Emily stood outside an apartment door starring at the brass number three emblem affixed there. Her courage meter was hovering somewhere between 'freaked' and 'just get it over with'. Finally she knocked, and waited. There was no answer. Emily knocked again, a little louder than the first time. Several more seconds passed. Her heart slowed, disappointment settling in. She was about to leave when the door swung open.
"Hi," Angie's voice held a note of disbelief as she greeted Emily. "I thought I heard a knock, but I had my headphones in," she indicated the items in question, which were dangling over her shoulders. "I'm really glad I decided to check," Angie smiled.
The girl was wearing yoga pants, a t-shirt and an iPod was attached to her left bicep via an armband. Emily also noticed the silver locket Angie was wearing. It was the same necklace she'd seen on her each time they'd briefly met before. Now, upon closer inspection, Emily could see that the worn etching was a pair of feathery wings. "I should apologize for just showing up like this, clearly I interrupted a workout."
"Only thing getting a workout today has been my brain," Angie replied, pointing to the headphones again. "The audio lecture helps reinforce my written notes. I have two exams next week before Thanksgiving break."
"That's harsh," Emily grimaced in sympathy.
Angie shrugged. "That's law school."
"I should let you get back to it, then," Emily took a small step away from the door.
"No, please don't go," Angie stopped her. "I could really use a break. I've been going all morning and afternoon. Come in," she waved her inside.
With trepidation Emily entered the apartment. It was a very small studio with a bed in one corner, a tiny kitchenette and two doors along the opposite wall. Emily guessed one led to a closet and the other to a bathroom. There was no other furniture in the main living area. But a sea of notebooks, text books and a silver laptop covered the floor. They all seemed to be arranged around a small area of carpet, which Emily guessed was where Angie had been sitting.
"Sorry about all this," Angie apologized. "Usually I keep the place tidy, but I tend to get messy when I study." She removed her iPod and headphones, placed them on the kitchen counter and then closed some of the books. "I made brownies this morning, favorite study food," Angie revealed as she made her way back to the kitchenette. "Do you like brownies?"
Emily's brows arched. "Are they made with chocolate?"
"Of course."
"Then what's not to like," Emily grinned.
The girl's smile reflected Emily's in nearly perfect detail. "How about some tea to go with them?" she offered. "I just got some Tahitian mint tea, very good. Mint and chocolate has always been one of my favorite combinations."
"Sounds great," Emily agreed. Reading letters about the girl had helped her gain some background knowledge, but actually talking to Angie was far better. She watched as the young woman cut several brownies and placed them on paper towels. She glanced around the room nervously as Angie brewed the tea in her microwave. When Angie brought her a steaming mug and a stack of brownies, Emily couldn't help notice the girl looked rather uncomfortable.
"I'm really embarrassed right now," Angie admitted. "I don't actually have anywhere to sit. I always use the floor. My scholarship covers tuition and boarding, not much extra. And my dad doesn't want me to work, not even part-time. He says I should only focus on studying," she explained.
"The floor is fine," Emily let her know. "Really," she reinforced her words by settling down on a spot of carpet near the kitchen, leaning her back against the wall. "I was a college student once." She blew on her tea. "I worked, but my mother still snuck money into my account."
"Is your mother still alive?"
A slow nod came from Emily. "She is."
Angie got the feeling that wasn't a topic she wished to expand upon. "So, I guess you're here because of last night. My dad called me this morning," she revealed. "I'm sorry I lied to you about the letters, and that I contacted you even after you said not to."
"I'm not sorry," Emily easily absolved her. "But you should know nothing is ever going to happen between your father and me."
"It was worth a try," the girl flashed a sheepish grin before biting in to a brownie. The two of them ate and sipped for a while in silence. "After my mom died, I'd have these really elaborate daydreams about finding you," Angie spoke again. "You'd fall in love with my dad and get married, and I'd have a baby brother or sometimes a sister. And you and I would bake cookies after school," she concluded. "Silly, huh?"
Emily's head shook. "Nothing wrong with daydreams," she assured the girl. "I actually had similar ones when I was little. I only ever had nannies to make cookies for me."
"Not your mom?" Another negative head shake was Emily's only reply. Angie realized again that she wasn't going to get her to open up about her mother. "What about your dad?" she asked instead. "Did he ever bake cookies with you?"
Laughter actually escaped Emily's lips. "Uh, no… my step-dad is an ultra-serious business man. He travels a lot. He's always been really nice to me, but we've never been close." Emily swallowed a small sip of tea. "My real dad died when I was seven."
"Whoa," Angie hadn't been expecting that news, "Same age as me when my mom died."
Fiddling with her tea mug, Emily finally found her opening. "He's actually one of the main reasons I came here to talk to you today," she took a deep breath before continuing. "My father was an alcoholic and so am I," she confessed. Emily watched Angie's eyes grow wider, but she seemed genuinely interested in hearing more. "My father battled with depression and so do I," she further revealed. "Eventually those two things led him to kill himself."
The girl swallowed nervously. "Have you ever…" she paused. "Tried to do that?" she bravely asked.
Setting her ceramic mug down on the carpet, Emily sighed. "Sort of," she nodded. "This week, after John's death, I… I drank so much I nearly could've…"
Angie took Emily's left hand in hers, squeezing it gently but reassuringly. It was the first real physical contact they'd shared. "I'm really glad you didn't die," Angie whispered.
"You can thank Derek for that," Emily smiled to think of the man, which helped keep tears from falling.
"Derek Morgan?" the girl inquired. "Spencer talks about him, and you… all of his team." She tried to direct the conversation somewhere a little less gloomy. "You all seem like family to him. I know he doesn't get to spend much time with his mom since she's at that hospital in Vegas. It's good he has you guys."
"He's told you a lot about himself," Emily was surprised he'd mentioned his mother.
She nodded. "We haven't known each other very long, but I really like Spencer. He's not like any guy I've ever known. He's very smart, but shy. And he does these silly magic tricks to flirt with me. It's really sweet. Tonight he's taking me to some candle light chess tournament in the park. It sounds pretty nerdy, but kind of romantic."
Emily found she was happy to know there was mutual affection between the two. "And here I thought maybe you'd only been seeing him to get closer to me."
"No," Angie replied. "If you recall, I actually met him a few minutes before I met you," she noted.
"True," Emily smiled, feeling more at ease around the girl. Except there was more to her history that she wanted to impart upon the child. "What I just told you about my father and me," she continued. "My mother never talked to me about those things, but I really wanted you to know because alcoholism and depression can both be genetic."
"I've never been very fond of drinking," the girl quickly supplied. "Not even as an undergrad. Now I know I should really avoid it," she was grateful of the information. Her dark eyes focused on the wall across from her. "I've certainly experienced my fair share of feeling depressed, though," Angie admitted. "I was painfully shy and quiet in high school. I had no real friends and just one date that stood me up."
"I'm sorry," Emily whispered.
Angie shrugged. "I had books, piano and karate. Karate was always a good way to vent my frustrations," she revealed. "My first years away at college yielded a few more friends, but the boys I dated were still pretty immature. I never even had sex until I was twenty-one, and there was just that one guy until I met Spencer."
Emily tried her best to pretend she hadn't heard that last bit. "For someone so shy you certainly just gave me an earful."
"You're easy to talk to, at least now that you want to listen," Angie said. "As close as my dad and I are, he's still a guy. And Father Quinn is pretty hip, but he's a priest," she laughed.
"Very true," Emily chuckled along with her for a moment. Her mug was empty, brownies eaten. She glanced at her watch. "I can't believe I've taken up so much of your time."
"It's okay," Angie replied as they both stood. "I'm really glad you came here today," she smiled brightly. "I should probably get changed, though, before Spencer arrives."
"I'll get out of your way, then," Emily happily obliged. She rinsed her mug and left it in the sink. Angie walked her to the door. "I almost forgot to tell you about John's estate," Emily realized. She stood in the open doorway facing Angie. "He left everything to you. After all the medical bills are paid you'll get about five hundred thousand."
"Right," Angie chuckled. She watched as Emily didn't even blink. "You were being serious? That's half a million dollars."
Emily nodded. "He was cremated per his wishes. John left it up to me whether or not to spread the ashes or place them in a memorial vault." That second option seemed dismal to her as she recalled some of the happier times she'd spent with her childhood friends. "John always really liked the water and sailing, so I thought about spreading his ashes in the ocean. Virginia Beach is kind of chilly this time of year, but I'd rather not put it off," Emily danced around the issue a bit. "Do you have any plans for next weekend?" she finally asked.
Still reeling a bit from the amount of money she stood to inherit, Angie thought it over. "I always spend Thanksgiving with my dad, but I'm free the rest of the weekend."
"We could drive down Friday evening, return Sunday afternoon… a quick trip," Emily suggested.
"That'd be nice," Angie agreed.
xxx
Mixed emotions plagued Emily as the elevator doors slid shut and the car began its accent. In an attempt to distract herself she reached for the cell phone in her purse. There were missed calls from Derek and one text from an unknown source. The message was generic enough that she figured someone had dialed the wrong number. On the top floor Emily keyed her lock and pushed the door open to find lights on in her apartment; lights she was sure she'd turned off before leaving several hours ago.
As quietly as possible she closed the front door and crept down the hallway. A soft creak on the stairs caused her to stop. "Shit," she swore, exhaling with relief as Derek walked around the corner. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" Emily swatted his shoulder and dropped her purse on the table beside her hall closet. "What are you doing here?" she asked, kicking her shoes off.
"You gave me a key," Morgan smiled, but felt a little bad. "I didn't mean to startle you."
Her jacket was removed and hung. "I gave you that key because it cost me two hundred dollars to have my door replaced," she continued to give him the cold shoulder even though she was glad to see him. Emily grabbed the phone out of her purse and brought the text message up. She held it so he could see. "Was this you?"
"See you soon," Derek read the message aloud. "Nope, kind of ruins the element of surprise."
Emily frowned. "I thought that's why you used an unknown number," she said while deleting the message.
"No," he maintained. "But I have been trying to call you," Derek finally pulled her close, initiating a proper greeting. Their lips met, eyes closed, arms encircling one another.
"I never took you for the clingy type," Emily smiled as they pulled apart just a little.
He gave her another brief kiss. "Just curious about your dinner last night."
"Ah ha," she grinned. "The jealous type. That I can see."
Derek shook his head and let her go. "I was more interested in," he paused a moment, not sure how to delicately broach the subject. "What you had to eat… and drink," he quickly added the second part.
Her eyes finally softened and her body relaxed. "He had wine, I had water," Emily initiated the next kiss between them. When it ended she rested her forehead against his, wondering how she'd gotten lucky enough to have him in her corner. "Thank you for being the concerned type."
"No problem," Morgan took her hand. "Now, for the real surprise…" he guided her toward the living room.
"My sofa is hardly a surprise," she chuckled.
Morgan grinned. Less than a week ago she'd been pushing him away, so he welcomed the relaxed vibe she was giving off at the moment. They walked around the sofa to where a large box was resting beside the coffee table. "This is your surprise."
"You got me a large cardboard box?" Emily stared at the item, puzzled. "You shouldn't have," she drolly continued. "Christmas isn't even until next month."
"This gift isn't going to stay put in that box until Christmas," he warned.
That finally piqued her curiosity and she sat on the sofa to open the box. Inside was a beige plastic animal carrier that she freed from the box. A small gray cat peered at her from inside and her heart melted a little. "You got me a cat?" Emily asked, very much surprised.
"I was thinking about what JJ said yesterday, the kids and animals therapy method," he explained while helping her free the kitten from its cage. Derek smiled as the little ball of fluff immediately curled up in Emily's arms. "Clooney always helped me unwind after a hard day," Derek recalled. "Still miss the old guy."
She smiled understandingly, remembering the day he'd walked into the BAU and told her about the dog's passing. "I saw Angie today," she revealed. "We talked for over an hour."
"Yeah?" he was impressed. "How'd that go?"
"Not bad. She seemed glad to see me."
"I don't doubt it," Derek replied. "You shouldn't either."
Emily cooed at the cat, "You're a real sweetheart." The animal purred contentedly. "Does she have a name?"
"Thought I'd leave that up to you," he offered.
She didn't take much time to deliberate on the matter. "Resi."
Derek winced a little. "You do remember that she…"
"I know," Emily nodded. "Just thought I'd put an optimistic spin on it," she smiled.
Morgan snuggled beside her, pleased that she liked the gift. He didn't know if the cat, Angie or even his support would keep Emily's addiction at bay, but he had faith. "Do you remember the last moral in Vonnegut's introduction of that book?"
She nodded, laying her head against his chest and inhaling. Wearing his shirt to bed was a mediocre substitute for the real thing. They hadn't been together for weeks, other than literally sleeping together the afternoon she'd passed out. Emily thought it might be time to rectify that. "Make love while you can," she whispered.
"It's good for you," he added the last part before kissing her again.
A ringing cell phone rudely interrupted their union. "Ugh," she sighed.
"Leave it," Derek begged, suckling her lower lip.
Emily nearly did, but she couldn't help think about Angie. She had a child to think about now, and worry about. "It'll just take a second…" she reluctantly untangled herself from Derek's lips and arms. Emily settled the cat on his lap before padding across the room. The caller name caught her off guard. "Hello?" she quickly decided to answer.
"He's escaped, Emily," the man's voice was thickly accented.
"Doyle," the name wasn't even a question. There was no one else who could make fearless Sean McAllister sound so frightened. And she couldn't help remember the mysterious text she'd received earlier. It shattered all the day's pleasantries. A shiver racked her body as her eyes locked on the back of Derek's head. He was still on the sofa petting Resi, oblivious to another sorted chapter in her life that had just come back to haunt her.
"Yes," her old friend confirmed. "I shouldn't be telling you over the phone, it's not secure. But I'm not wasting time. I plan to relocate my family right away. I suggest you take similar precautions," he warned.
"I will," Emily vowed.
To be continued…