A/n once again, thanks to all my faithful readers.
Warning: See the first chapter.
Disclaimer: See my profile
Emily pulled on the red tank top that hung closest to the door of the hotel closet. She pulled on a pair of dark blue slacks and her matching flat heeled shoes. Her gun was on the small table in the corner with her holster. It was going to be too hot for a jacket and so she left it hanging in the closet. She hung up her pajamas in the small closet and shut the door.
The room she was staying in was small, but well cared for and the air conditioner worked. She was on her own for this trip as Jordan had been able to get them all their own rooms. The case was going badly and she expected to be in this room for at least another day.
"It doesn't matter, as long as you get back for your appointment with Dr. Kelly in two days."
Her hands started to shake at the thought of going to the fertility specialist. Dr. St. John said that Dr. Steven Kelly was the best fertility specialist in the country and he was right there in DC.
Pretty convenient, don't you think?
The nagging little voice that had been trying to get her to reconsider her determination was becoming very annoyingon this case. She headed into the bathroom to brush her teeth.
Is it annoying or is it being realistic?
"Stop it!" She said to her reflection in the mirror after spitting out her toothpaste.
She picked up her hairbrush and brushed out her hair. Her bangs were getting a little long. She needed to get them trimmed when they got back to DC.
She'd just picked up her gun and put in her the holster when her cell phone began to dance across the bathroom counter top.
"Prentiss," She answered the phone and picked up her badge from the faux marble counter top.
"Emily," Morgan said. "We've got a hot lead on the girl. Hotch wants us to meet outside now."
"Okay."
She shut the phone, pulled a rubber band out of her pocket and pulled her hair up in a ponytail. There was no time to worry about her problems, not when a two year old girl was out there somewhere with a child serial killer.
---
The house they were looking for had once been painted an unfortunate purple color. Emily looked at it from the back seat of the SUV the Phoenix police had given to them to use while they were in Arizona. Now the paint had faded to lilac and looked like it belonged in a child's animated cartoon.
The SUV pulled up the long gravel drive, passing cacti and large grey rocks scattered along the sides of the road, and in front of the patio. The grass that one might see in front of a home in DC wasn't there. There was only dirt the color of ash.
They piled out of the truck and Hotch indicated silently for her and Reid to go around to the back of the house. The driveway had been empty, so they didn't know if Rodney Atwood was home. They had been assured by Garcia that this was his home.
"Go in ten!" Hotch whispered.
They separated into two groups so smoothly it was like watching the bow of a boat cut through deep blue waters of the ocean.
The house was in disrepair, with the paint peeling and the windows so dirty that no one would see them if they happened to look out of one of them. That also meant that they couldn't see inside. The wind blew over her hair and would have put it in her eyes if not for her ponytail. It was hot, even though it was November. The dust pushed around by the wind got into everything and was as gritty as sand from the beach. The wind picked up and swirled it around in front of her, momentarily blinding her. Then it cleared just as they reached the northeast corner of the house.
Reid was in front of her with his gun held in two hands in front of him. She followed him with hers held low. They rounded the corner of the house to the back door that was situated almost at the far corner of the house.
They hit the door at the same time Hotch, Rossi, and Morgan hit the front door. The kitchen was the first room they entered. The floor was filthy and the smell was nearly overpowering. Dirty dishes littered the countertop that should have been white tile, but who could tell under the stains of coffee and unnamable foods.
Reid jumped when a rat ran past him squeaking like a toy with a broken spring. Emily nearly yelped in revulsion, only her strict training kept her quiet. Reid preceded her to the hallway that passed a table piled with dirty dishes and two magazines that looked like hard core pornography to her.
The musty smell of the kitchen followed them into the hallway where they met Hotch and the others. He led them down the narrow hallway. The hardwood floors squeaked under their feet as they moved and separated to take the rooms that led off the hallway.
Emily took the last door, pushing it open with her free hand. The first thing her eyes fell on when she entered the room was a very fat and unkempt man, knelt over the small girl they'd been looking for.
"FBI," She said firmly, leveling her gun on the man who spun around.
"You're too late cop bitch," He spat out at her.
He was holding a small handgun at his side. She tried to risk a glance to the girl, but the man blocked her view with his body.
His brown pants were stained and the white tee shirt he wore in the warm room was grey and stained with food and sweat. The heat of the house was making sweat roll down her face to her neck. It tickled down the side of her jaw, but her hands didn't waver.
"Put the gun down and put your hands on your head."
"I don't think so."
He brought up the gun and she shot him straight through the heart. He fell with a thud that shook the house to its foundations. Dust rose up off the floor when he impacted with it, narrowly missing falling on top of the child that lay on a stained mattress.
Emily entered the room and kicked away the man's gun. She was loath to touch him, but she had to know if he was alive. There was no pulse at his neck. She stepped over him as the rest of the team entered the hot little room.
"Katie…" The little girl lay on her side and didn't move when Emily knelt down next to her. "I'm the police honey. Its okay - we're going to take you to your mama."
She touched the child and the little girl fell over onto her back. He lips were blue and the nylon stocking the man had used to strangle her was still tied around her little neck. The whites of her open and staring eyes were red with petechial hemorrhaging.
"No!"
The face of the girl changed in front of her and became another little face. It was a perfect face with sculpted cheek bones, a perfectly formed mouth and curly dark brown hair. The eyes staring up at here weren't blue, they were brown… Oh god, no... not him! Not now, don't think about him now. She blinked against the tears and the sweat that was rolling down her face. The smell of urine, and blood, and other terrible things were trying to get her stomach to rebel.
"No!" She didn't realize that she was screaming.
"Emily…"
Hotch had knelt down next to her, and his face was expressionless as he looked down at the child lying in a broken heap on the blood stained mattress.
"Prentiss," He put a hand on her shoulder.
"Leave me alone!" She shook him off and got up. The rest of the team was standing there staring at the terrible scene with varying expressions of disgust and anger on all of their faces. The small child had been beaten and she was nude, denied the final dignities of her short life.
Emily pushed past Rossi, who tried to say something. "Not now," Her voice trembled and tears began to fall. She had to get out of there as fast as she could. The heat got worse as she slammed out of the back door. It was like a living thing that was trying to reach into her throat and strangle her like the little girl she'd just left.
She should go back and be with the tiny child in this terrible moment, but her stomach was rebelling against her. She stumbled down the steps from the back door into the hot sunny day. The golden light that was beating down on the sun baked earth felt like it could fry everything out of her head.
It's your fault!
No…it's not my fault!
She ran to the edge of the property and threw up the remains of the dinner that was so long ago. She didn't hear the person that came up behind her until a hesitant hand fell on her shoulder.
"Leave me alone," She croaked out the words over acid burned vocal cords.
"No!" His quiet and normally subdued voice surprised her in its intensity.
"Please just go away."
"I can't," He said while she swiped a hand over her mouth and lips.
"I don't want to talk to you."
"I know…"
"I can't… I don't want… Why couldn't we get here in time to save that little girl?"
"I don't know."
She turned and hit him in the chest. The flack jacket hurt her hand and that was what made her cry. "How do you not know? You know everything… You always have all the answers when it comes to some stupid statistics. Why can't you tell me the answer to this? You're supposed to have the answers!"
He just stood there looking at her like she might lose it completely and hit him again. His short, wavy brown hair blew over his face, and his large puppy dog eyes were glued to her face like it was the most important thing for him to be doing in that moment.
The silence under the whine of the wind dragged out till she broke the stare between then and left him standing there. She walked away from him and went back around the house to the SUV sitting there in the harsh light of day.
She walked away from the urge to jump into his arms and take comfort in the loss of this little girl. Her pride in being able to compartmentalize all of the horror she faced day in and day out seemed foolish.
After pride cometh the fall!
No, it was necessary to put it away. If she didn't, it would drive her crazy. She would burnout…If she had to leave the team and the people she loved, it would kill her.
Sweat fell into her eyes and mixed with the tears. It stung like a son of a bitch. Salty tears crept into the corners of her mouth. She walked faster and faster, nearly running by the time she climbed into the stifling SUV and rolled down a window.
Tears were still running down her face when the door opened the Reid slipped into the back seat with her.
"I don't want to talk to you."
"I know… I'm just going to wait here till the scene is clear."
"It's too hot in this car."
"It's hot outside too!"
"Fine," She turned her head to the window and watched the state police and the coroner's car arrive.
"Emily, did you know that the average temperature in Arizona this time of year is seventy-five degrees Fahrenheit. It's about eighty-seven right now and the hottest it's ever been in November is ninety-three. Arizona gets an average of -"
"Shut up Reid! I don't want to hear about temperature statistics right now. I can't believe that you're talking about that right now. A little girl is dead in there. We should have saved her."
More tears fell as her anger grew at the world and at a God who would let this happen.
"I know that Emily," He said quietly. "What I don't know is what's bothering you."
"I'm angry because she's dead and we weren't fast enough to save her."
"What else is bothering you?"
"I thought we agreed not to profile each other."
"We did," He said while pulling a coin out of his pocket. He began to make it dance across his hands as though it could move on its own.
"Okay," He flipped the coin caught it and held it in one long fingered hand. He put the other hand over the coin and looked up at Emily.
"Call it…"
"What…"
"Call it…"
"I'm not playing games with you Reid."
"Call it and if I win, you tell me what's bothering you."
"And if I win…"
"I'll leave you alone until you're ready to talk about what's bothering you."
"I don't trust you. You're a magician."
"I won't cheat."
"Flip it again and I'll call it in the air."
"Fine," He flipped it into the air.
"Heads," She called as the coin flew out of his long fingers.
He caught the coin, a quarter that shone silver in the air, in his hands. When he showed her what it was she grinned. "Good, its heads… So what else do you want to talk about?"
"How about we go three out of five?" He asked, his hazel eyes pleaded with her.
"No, you promised you'd let me talk about things when I'm ready."
"So what else is going on?" He asked with so much excitement, it made her laugh. "That's better," He said with a smile. "It's okay to be sad. There's nothing that we can do about the death that we see. Gideon told me after I killed Philip Dowd, that I did what I had to do and that I didn't have to feel a certain way about what I had done. You did what you had to do in there. You killed a man who was a sick and depraved individual. He preyed on children. We couldn't stop him from killing that poor little girl, but at least he won't hurt anyone else. No one can tell you how to feel about it. I know she'll take her place in my nightmares for awhile, but there's nothing I can do about that except work harder to catch the next one."
"You're pretty wise for a young guy."
"When is everyone going to stop calling me kid, or wet behind the ears?" He whined, while playing with the coin again.
"When you get to be older than twenty-seven," she said in a motherly tone.
"There's nothing wrong with being young." He retorted while making the coin disappear.
The coin reappeared in his fingers and he was concentrating very hard on the next trick. The coin continued to flash silver light in the car's interior, so he didn't see the smile that came over her face.
"No, there's nothing wrong with being young." She agreed.
He flipped the coin and as she watched it arc up through the air, the sudden realization that life might be at the mercy of the cruel designs of Fate hit her. Garcia told her once that she believed that everything happened for a reason. Perhaps that meant that the death of a small girl might have a purpose too. It wasn't the answer that she wanted, but it was all she had.
Maybe your child will make a difference.
The coin caught her eye again. Would Reid say yes or no to her plan? Would it come down to the flip of another coin or would it be easy? She didn't know, but another two days, and seeing her new doctor, would tell the tale.
He was grinning at her again. She smiled back and when the door opened letting Morgan into the driver's seat she was steady again.