Looks like another Tuesday has come so I guess you all are eager for the next chapter. Probably. I would be. So here it is. Enjoy. It is my longest one so far. Again a big shout out to all those who have reviewed. I sure do appreciate it. Now get reading.

Emily was exhausted. Both physically and mentally from the long hours spent in the air and passing through customs. She had surprisingly managed to sleep through the remainder of the flight from Paris with Josette only waking her once when she had noticed the beginning of a nightmare. The decent amount of sleep she had gotten on the plane did not even make a dent in the amount she had lost over the passing months. She fought off the urge to curl up on the nearest bench to take a quick nap and kept moving. She would sleep after she found Jack.

She stood outside the Richmond terminal in the predawn light waiting for the new arrivals to disperse before hailing a taxi to take her to the nearest train station. Once there she snatched up a copy of the train schedules and studied it carefully before settling on Arlington, Virginia as her final destination. Stepping up to the counter, Emily made her purchase and with ticket in hand she settled down in the furthest corner to wait.

As she watched people going about their lives, her mind kept revisiting the major flaw in her plan. She had no idea where Doyle could be hiding. To her knowledge Doyle had never mentioned visiting Washington D.C. but then she was also quite sure that there was a lot he hadn't told her and vice versa. What a couple they had made. Two people shrouded in secrets.

The restlessness in her mind infected the rest of her body. Unable to sit still any longer she hopped to her feet and decided to take a walk around the block, thinking that the fresh air would do her some good. Halfway around Emily stumbled upon a 24-hour drug store and popped in to pick up a few essentials that she had left in Paris like a toothbrush and an ace bandage for her bad hand. Back at the station, she browsed the small newsstand before purchasing a bottle of water and the morning edition newspapers for Richmond and Washington. Then she resettled in her corner to read until it was time to board the train for home.

Jack rolled over and bumped into the wall. Miffed, he rolled back over and sat up rubbing his eyes. Yawning, he sleepily look around the room expecting to see his Spiderman posters, his shelves filled with toys and books, and the photograph of his Mother on the nightstand beside his bed. Instead he was still in the same dingy room with the same old battered mattress but now with a pillow and blanket the scary man had brought after he had managed to choke down the peanut butter sandwich.

The mere thought of food sent his stomach growling. Setting the red panda carefully on the pillow, he stood up and made his way to the door, secretly hoping it was now unlocked. Much to his dismay it was still bolted from the outside. To vent his frustration Jack gave the door several hard kicks before stomping back to the mattress and flopping down. He sat with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face that would have made his father proud.

Not long after his minor tantrum the door swung open and the scary man strolled in. He stopped in front of Jack and cocked his head to one side.

"Looks like someone got out of the wrong side of the bed this morning."

Jack glowered.

Doyle chuckled. "I'll take that as a 'yes'." He studied the little boy. "Hungry?"

Jack's scowl deepened when his stomach betrayed him by rumbling louder than the first time.

"A second 'yes'. Do you like cereal?"

Jack nodded slowly.

"What kind?" Doyle asked him patiently.

"Apple Jacks," he grudgingly admitted.

"Apple Jacks for Jack," Doyle said with amusement. "Anything else you want?"

"I want to go home!"

Doyle shook his head. "Not today. Would you like some toys or books perhaps?" He continued when he didn't get an answer. "No? Well then do you like to draw?"

Reluctantly Jack nodded.

"Good." Doyle gave him a smile. "I'll get those for you but before I go, do you need to use the loo?"

Jack looked at him baffled. "The loo?"

Doyle chuckled to himself. "Pardon me. I meant the bathroom."

"Yes."

Doyle silently held out his hand. Jack got to his feet and for the second time in less than twenty-four hours he took the proffered hand and off they went. Once he was back in his room and sitting on the floor, Jack wondered why the scary man was being so nice. He wasn't sure if he was more afraid of him this way or when he was mad.

Two hours later Emily found herself in Arlington, gazing across the Potomac at the city she had city she had called home for the last five years. She wondered if she would be able to come back after this fiasco with Doyle was over especially after the way she had burned several bridges behind her from her abrupt exit from the BAU. She rubbed her forehead in an attempt to stave off the headache that was slowly building behind her eyes. Mentally she scolded herself for thinking about the future when she should be completely focused on the here and now.

Straightening her back with resolve, Emily turned away from the beautiful view. Hitching the strap of the travel bag further up her shoulder, she made her way to the curb to hail a taxi. Snagging one on the first try Emily hopped in telling the cabbie to drive around. He eyed her for a moment then shrugged and pulled out into traffic. She sat back to watch the buildings roll by.

"What are you looking for?" the cabbie asked after driving around for fifteen minutes.

"A place to stay."

"I know of several nice hotels I can take you to," he offered, looking at her through the rear view mirror.

Emily met his look with one of her own, eyes dark and unwelcoming. "I'll know it when I see it," she said in a cold voice.

The man's eyes snapped back to the street and a couple more miles passed in silence except for the constant hum of the tires on the pavement.

"Pull over," Emily said suddenly.

"Here?" the cabbie questioned, glancing around nervously at the shabby neighborhood.

"Do you have a hearing problem? I said pull over. NOW!" Emily's eyes snapped in anger.

"Okay, okay," he grumbled as he brought the taxi to a stop. "It's your funeral, Lady."

Emily jumped out tossing to the man the fare and a generous tip. "Thanks but I already had mine. Heard it was quite moving." She slammed the door and watched the cab peel away with a squeal of rubber.

Turning around, she studied the nondescript motel. It wasn't the best she had ever seen nor was it the worst. It had just what she wanted, a place somewhat respectable but also one that didn't ask questions. Definitely not the kind of establishment her mother would be caught dead in. Emily smiled at the thought.

Entering the office, Emily paid for a room for three days with cash and under a fake name. Taking the key from the indifferent manager who waved vaguely in the general direction of her room, she headed off. Finding the room she unlocked the door, gave it a hard shove when it stuck and stepped back into the seventies.

"Lovely," she muttered as she dropped her bag on the gaudy bedspread and took in the yellow and orange textured walls, the brown shag-pile carpet and an honest to god red lava lamp. She peered closer and was surprised that it actually worked.

She shook her head in amusement. "Compared to this my apartment in Paris was a palatial palace."

Unpacking a set of fresh clothes, she headed for the bathroom. Twelve solid hour of travel had left her feeling itchy and disheveled and she couldn't wait to peel off her travel clothes and step in a nice hot bath. Stepping in, Emily turned on the shower and was rewarded with a steady stream of hot water though the pipes rattled ominously.

After washing herself from top to bottom, she leaned her forehead against the shower wall and let the water pound the tension from her shoulders and back. Even the headache receded, allowing her to let her mind drift. When the water started to grow tepid Emily reluctantly turned it off and stepped out.

Quickly she towel dried her raven hair and pulled it back into a neat ponytail. Then she pulled on a clean pair of jeans and a crisp though slightly wrinkled T-shirt. It still amazed her at times how the simple act of showering could refresh the mind and body. Before slipping her feet into a pair of comfortable tennis shoes, she dug around in the bag for the ace bandage she had purchased earlier. Carefully she wrapped her hand and felt the constant dull pain fade to a minor nuisance. She bent her fingers several times to make sure that she enough flexibility to hold a gun.

The thought of the gun brought her back to why she was here. Time to begin in earnest the hunt for Doyle. She knew that couldn't do it completely on her own. She needed help and the only people she could go to was her old team especially Morgan. Knowing him like she did, she had no doubt that he was on Doyle's trail the moment he had learned of her 'death'. Her gut told her that there was a tiny fragment of a clue in Morgan's file that would lead her to Doyle. It was time to call JJ who was probably beside herself with worry once she had realized Emily had pulled a runner.

Calling from the motel was out the question because it would reveal where she was holing up. Her safest bet was outside in a spot with a lot of people where she could blend in. She smiled to herself when it came to her. Pulling on her jacket and verifying she had plenty of money and her fake passport, she headed out. Along the way she stopped long enough to pick up two burner phones, sunglasses and a Washington Nationals ball cap. Pausing to look at her reflection in a storefront window, she was pleased with what she saw. Looking back at her was the face of a tourist. Perfect for where she was going. Arlington National Cemetery where you could talk freely without the concern that someone might ease drop. The only ones there who could listen in were the dead who weren't going to talk. They simply didn't care.

Doyle sat cross-legged watching Jack dig into his second helping of cereal. Next to the boy sat the red panda and a pad of drawing paper with a jumbo box of crayons on it.

"What's its name?" he asked, gesturing with his head at the stuffed animal.

"Doesn't have one yet," Jack answered around a mouthful of cereal.

"Why not?"

"He's not mine. He's a gift."

"Oh," Doyle raised an eyebrow. "Who is it for?"

"My friend Em'ly." Jack lifted the bowl to his mouth and slurped the leftover milk.

Doyle stiffened at the name but kept a warm smile on his face for the boy. "Ah. Is she in your class?"

"No," Jack answered, giving him the 'don't you know anything' look. "She works with my Daddy. She's a superhero like him too. She takes down bad guys and she's got a gun. I'm gonna give it to her when she gets back."

The warmth in his eyes faded as they narrowed in suspicion. "And where is this Emily now?"

Jack shrugged. "Don't know. Daddy just said she was on some special assignment somewhere. Em'ly been gone a long time." He picked up the red panda and ran his fingers through its fur.

"How long is long?"

Jack shrugged again. "A really long time." He buried his face in the fur. "I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye. She just left."

"You miss her?"

"Yeah."

"Why?" Doyle asked, curious to know what this kid could possibly find so interesting in Emily Prentiss.

"Em'ly is really nice to me and she's always giving me books cause she knows I like to read. Oh," Jack's face lit up. "She tells me these funny stories with these silly voices she does."

"Makes you laugh?"

"Uh huh." Jack suddenly blushed. "She's pretty," he said shyly.

Doyle couldn't help but laugh at the boy. He had once thought that about her himself. That one fond memory brought to light her betrayal of their love and how she had tortured him with the 'death' of his son. He had a sudden urge to punish her but since she was dead he would have to settle for the boy.

"Your father lied to you."

"What?" Jack looked at him, confusion written all over his face.

"She's never coming back."

Jack's confusion turned to indignity. "Yes she is. Daddy told me so."

"He lied." Doyle smirked. 'Want to know how I know that?"

Jack nodded his head mutely.

Doyle leaned forward, eyes glittering with malice. "Because I killed her."

Jack jerked back as if had been slapped. "No," he whispered.

"Yes. I drove a wooden stake through her." Doyle made a stabbing motion at his stomach.

"You're lying."

Doyle shook his head. "No, I'm not. I made her pay dearly for taking my son away." He stood up and casually walked to the door. "You've been waiting five months for a dead woman."

Jack surged to his feet yelling, "You're lying! Em'ly's not dead! My Daddy never lies to me!"

Doyle tipped his head to one side smiling. "He did," he said and slipped through the door.

Jack stared at the door, hands clenched at his side, his entire body shaking in anger. "You're the one who's lying!" he shouted.

He stooped, picked up the cereal bowl and hurled it as hard as he could against the wall where it shattered.

"She can't be. When she comes back, we're gonna go to the zoo. You'll see." Tears came unbidden and slowly rolled down his cheeks.

"Em'ly's not dead!" he sobbed.

"It's time to tell the team about Emily."

"Are you sure?"

Hotch stood up and slipped on his suit jacket. "Positive. We need her help. Emily is the only person who has an intimate knowledge of Doyle."

JJ also rose to her feet. "If she'll share it with us. Both of us know that she is blaming herself for this. What's going to stop her from going after Doyle on her own?"

"Jack." Hotch said decisively. "The last time it was just between her and Doyle. She didn't have to look out for anyone but herself. Now she does. Emily is going to do everything within her power to keep Jack safe. We have to be there for her and help her with whatever she needs."

JJ nodded. "We're her backup whether she likes it or not." She jabbed a thumb at the door. "Derek and Penelope are in the conference room. I'll round up Dave and Spence and meet you there."

Morgan and Garcia looked up when a few minutes later Hotch walked through the doorway followed shortly by JJ, Rossi and Reid.

"We've made some progress in locating Declan," Morgan offered while the rest of the team, except for Hotch, settled into their chairs.

"We'll get to that later," Hotch said.

Morgan frowned. "But you said…"

"I said later," Hotch cut him off. "A situation has come up that we need to discuss."

"Something more important than Jack?" Morgan shot back slightly irritated.

"Morgan, hear him out," JJ said softly.

Garcia squinted through her glasses at JJ. "Does this have something to do with that name you gave me?"

"It does."

Hotch crossed his arms and took a deep breath before plunging in, "Five months ago, I made a decision that affected this entire team," he glanced around the room and saw that he had everyone's undivided attention, "As you all know, Agent Prentiss was pronounced dead from injuries received during her fight with Ian Doyle."

Hotch's eyes wandered over his team as they shifted uncomfortably at the change in topic. Emily's death was still a sensitive subject to talk about.

Once they had settled, Hotch took another deep breath and continued, "What you don't know is that the doctors were able to stop the bleeding and stabilize her during surgery, and she was eventually air lifted to Bethesda. She remained there with a protection detail until she was strong enough to travel. For he own safety, she was then relocated to Paris, where she's been living for the last three months."

The room fell eerily quiet. Morgan, Garcia and Reid sat stunned trying to grope with the sudden realization that their wish had after all come true. Emily, their friend, their teammate was alive. Rossi, on the other hand, was the only one who didn't seem to be all that surprised. Hotch made a mental note to ask him about that later.

Garcia was the first to break the silence. "She's alive?" she stammered, tears sliding down her cheeks. Hotch nodded.

Reid looked up at his Unit Chief in disbelief. "But we buried her," he said weakly.

Hotch continued. "As I said it was my decision and mine alone. Emily wasn't in any condition to make her opinion known. If you have any issues take them up with me. Do not blame Emily."

Morgan shot to his feet livid. "Issues?" he spat. "Hell I got issues. What is wrong with you, Man? How could you let us suffer like that while you knew she was alive? You should have told us."

Hotch shook his head and said calmly. "I couldn't take the risk. Emily's safety was my utmost priority."

"You still should have told us."

"The less people that knew the truth, the safer she would be," he countered.

"That's bullshit, Hotch, and you know it."

"Morgan, I know you're pissed but think about it this way. Could any of you have stayed away and pretended she was dead, knowing she was hurt and alone? You couldn't. You would have wanted to help and that would have led Doyle straight to her when Emily was at her most vulnerable."

Morgan stared at Hotch. He knew he was right but he couldn't vocally admit it yet. Instead he turned and went to look out the window, jaw clenched in anger.

Reid spoke up. "Hotch, how could you?"

Hotch turned to the young genius. "How could I do what?"

"How could you leave Emily all alone in the hospital like that? To let her wake up surrounded by complete strangers when she was probably scared, in a lot of pain and needed someone familiar to comfort her? I didn't know until now how you could be so heartless. She was your friend and you abandoned her."

Hotch opened his mouth to speak when JJ cut in. "It was like that at all, Spence."

"What do you mean?" he asked in suspicion.

"Emily wasn't alone," she confessed. "I was with her every day during her two month stay at Bethesda."

"You knew?" Reid's voice cracked with betrayal.

"Yes." She reached out to touch his hand but he pulled away. "I was long gone from the BAU when Doyle surfaced. I wasn't on his radar so I was able to freely come and go as needed. That's one of the reasons I distanced myself you guys after her 'death'." JJ didn't mention that the other reason was that she was tired of lying to everyone.

"You went every day?" Garcia asked. Morgan turned from the window to hear her answer.

"Every day. Emily was unconscious and in critical condition for two weeks. There were some days I was afraid she wouldn't make it through the night but she did. I was bound and determined that I would be the first face she saw when she woke up and I was."

Garcia smiled through her tears. "Our Emily is a fighter."

JJ smiled back. "She is. I told her that every day and she heard me."

Dave, who had been quietly observing, raised his hand. "I have a question. Why are you bringing this up now?"

Hotch and JJ looked at each other. "Emily is no longer in Paris," Hotch said. "She returned this morning."

"Ah." Was all Dave said.

Morgan stormed back to the table. "She's here? Where?"

JJ shook her head. "We don't know. Her last known location was in Richmond, Virginia around five this morning. By now she is probably here in D.C."

"That's it?" Morgan asked in disbelief.

"That's it," JJ said. "She hasn't contacted us yet."

"Do you know why she came back?" Dave asked.

"To find Jack," Hotch said. "Apparently she saw the Amber Alert online and called JJ."

"I told her not to worry, that Jack was simply lost which was what we were all thinking at the time," JJ shrugged. "But it looks like she did worry."

Dave raised an eyebrow. "And she immediately thought of Doyle which is understandable. She's probably been obsessing about Doyle constantly for the last five months. I would."

"So what do we do?" Reid asked.

"Nothing," Hotch answered.

"Nothing?" Morgan frowned. "You want us to sit around on our duffs and do nothing?" he asked in amazement.

Hotch spread his hands. "Emily could be anywhere. She's ex-CIA. She knows how to hide. Our hands are tied until she decides to contact us."

JJ's phone chose that very moment to ring and dance it's way across the table. Everyone looked at it.

"Speak of the devil," Dave said drolly. "Someone's ears must be burning."

When I wrote the last line, I knew I just had to end it there. I love tiny cliffhangers. I also adore huge cliffhangers. Heck, I love to end on any size cliffhanger.