Heal Me

Sometimes, to fix the broken, you have to break the rules.

. . .

Chapter 3

Six Months Later . . .

Rossi stared blindly at his computer screen, resting his chin on one hand and scrolling down with his mouse. He wasn't even sure what website he was even looking at now. The day had dragged on for what had seemed like an eternity and now finally it was heading towards five o'clock. This meant that Rossi could go home; reheat some leftover lasagne, pour himself a shot of whiskey and flick on the TV to watch the game. He wasn't really in the mood to do anything else.

It had been six long, agonising months. And the way it was looking there didn't seem to be any light at the end of the tunnel. Rossi sighed deeply and rubbed at his eyes. His fingers travelled to his neck and pulled out a long chain. He examined the key on the end with semi-interest. It belonged to his Emily. Every time he looked at it he was reminded of her, and he often wondered what on earth had possessed her to buy the key.

You'll never know, his mind taunted.

Not true! He was going to find Doyle – he had promised himself and Emily that. Letting the key drop back beneath his clothes Rossi opened his desk drawer and removed his file on Ian Doyle. He was certain that everyone had a file on him. He was the most wanted man in the BAU, even by some of the younger agents who had not known Emily well. Slowly, he opened the yellow manila and stared blankly at the contents. Every time he opened it he prayed for some new idea to spring into his mind.

It never happened. Rossi closed the file with shame and got up, stretching out. He strolled over to the window and peered through the blinds. Seaver, Reid and Morgan were at their desks, working away steadily on consults. He knew that Hotch would be in his office and that Garcia would be in hers, probably working on a case for Cooper's team.

"Emily" Rossi whispered softly. He said her name at least once every two hours. It was his way of making sure that she wasn't forgotten to him.

Her departure, or "death" to everyone else, had shaken the team from the very core.

Ashleigh Seaver refused point blank to speak of Emily, who had been instrumental in attaining Seaver's place in the BAU. Rossi knew that she felt extremely guilty for being there. It was as if Emily had left but Seaver was right there to replace her. To Seaver's mind anyway. Rossi shook his head. He had tried to get the blonde to open up about how she was feeling to him, even tried getting Hotch to talk to her, but nothing would make the blonde shift. She just worked away quietly, ignoring the pain that came from the subject of Emily.

Anger was the first word that came to mind at Derek Morgan's reaction to this debacle. Not anger to Emily, for Rossi would have thumped him if it had, but to Doyle. Morgan now trained harder, faster and hunting down Unsubs had become a race against time. It appeared that he would not allow himself to make the same "mistake" as he had with Emily. It made Rossi worry, to see Morgan pushing himself to the extreme. There was only so much the human body could take, and when would Morgan reach his breaking point?

Spencer Reid, though the most brilliant of them all, was still searching for answers as to how he felt about everything. The kid was too easy to profile, but then again his shields had been shattered when Emily "died". Every time Reid walked past Emily's photo in the foyer the genius seemed to crumple into himself and allow a few tears to escape before turning back into Dr. Reid. Rossi had a hard time trying to keep himself from breaking down every time he saw that photo too.

A photo was nothing compared to the real, warm version of Emily. Sleeping beside her had been the most amazing, natural thing he had ever experienced in his entire life, including all three of his failed marriages.

Movement of bright colours caught Rossi's eye and he saw Penelope Garcia meandering towards Morgan's desk. She put a file down on its surface and turned to leave. Before she could however, Morgan had snatched her hand and brought it to his face, closing his eyes. Garcia's expression was mute, unreadable.

She blamed herself, this Rossi knew. He had overheard her talking to herself in her office a few weeks back and what she had said had taken his breath away.

"I'm pathetic! I was hired by the FBI because I'm one of the top hackers in America yet I can't even find one son-of-a-bitch and make him pay for what he did to Emily! God I just –"

At that point the techie broke off into tears and, as much as it pained him to do so, Rossi had left her there. There was a time in the grieving process where grieving alone is better than doing so with another person.

Aaron Hotchner, stubborn bastard that he was, had not revealed any of how he was feeling about Emily. He just bottled it all up, until the bubbles became too much that cork burst out of the bottle, shattering the glass. There was no way Hotch would talk willingly and Rossi barely had the time to push him on it, he barely had time to assess how he felt.

Knock. Knock.

"Come in" Rossi rumbled and walked back to seat himself behind his desk.

Ashleigh poked her head around the door, a bright smile, yet fake, plastered to her face. Rossi gave her a gentle smile and gestured to the seat across the cherry oak desk. She settled into the chair and tucked her feet underneath her.

"What can I do for you dear?" he asked.

"Have you seen Hotch? I have a report I need his signature on" Ashleigh said, gesturing to the file in her hands.

Rossi shook his head. "He must have left early to be with Jack" he said.

"Damn" she cursed.

"I'll take it for you" he offered. She smiled gratefully and passed over the folder.

As she got up to leave Rossi cleared his throat. "Ashleigh" he said "When are you going to talk about Emily?"

Ashleigh froze with her hand on the handle. Though she faced away from him Rossi could see she was nearly shaking with unshed tears. Emily's face flooded his memory and he flinched inwardly. Cold waves passed over his skin, and he almost regretted even breaching the subject with the now shaking Ashleigh.

"There's nothing to talk about" she whispered hoarsely and wrenched the door open, rushing from the office without another word.

As the door slammed shut Rossi winced. That didn't go well. If Emily had been here she would've known exactly what to say to make Ashleigh feel better. Hell, if Emily was here Ashleigh wouldn't feel like this at all. It was terrible to be keeping a secret from the team that could potentially alleviate all the pain that had infected since that fateful night. Guilt had been plaguing him for six months and he knew that the feeling would not go way until Emily was safely back in his arms. And Doyle was dead.

Rossi checked his watch and sighed. He got up and began packing away his stuff. Fuck Strauss and the board, he could knock off early if he wanted. He needed more than just a shot of whiskey.