Title:
Power
Play
Rating:
R
Fandom:
Criminal
Minds
Universe:
Creatures
of the Night (Part 1)
Pairing:
Morgan/Prentiss;
JJ/Hotch
Genre:
Supernatural/Drama
Summary:
Tensions
are running high when a vampire joins the BAU, but all differences
must be put aside as the team investigate a series of suspicious
werewolf murders. AU.
Author's
Notes: Betaed
by Windy City Dreamer. Some guest beta work from Yellow Smurf.
Chapter Thirty-Four
It's nearing sunrise when they reach the FBI outpost at Lamia, one the eastern boundaries of the city. Emily can see the sun shining out from behind the trees at the edge of the horizon through the tinted glass window. She finds herself suddenly aware of the hunger pangs that are rippling through her, a side effect of the recent blood high. It's been so long since she's felt this; she'd almost forgotten.
She sits at the table, head in her hands. Hotch is talking with the outpost SAIC, JJ is calling Garcia, Morgan is getting changed into some clothes that had been scrounged up for him, and Reid and Rossi are sitting at the other end of the table, Reid going to great pains to avoid eye contact. He need time to process the information that he's been given. Needs time to find out who he really is.
Emily knows how hard that can be.
She jumps slightly, as she feels a hand landing on her shoulder. It's Morgan, wearing a t-shirt and jeans combo that's at least two sizes too small. She finds her eyes lingering a little too long in certain areas.
'Hey,' he says warmly, directing his words both to her, and to Rossi and Reid. Rossi grunts, while Reid says nothing at all.
'Hey.' She gives him a half smile, still kind of unsure about what's going on between them. She'd tried to kill him last night, and he'd responded by making out with her. If that's not unusual behavior, then she isn't sure what is.
'You hungry?' he asks, and for a split second, she wonders if he's assimilated JJ's powers, but then he adds, 'I was thinking I could go grab some breakfast for everyone while Hotch and JJ are sorting stuff out. I know I'm starving every time I shift back. Nothing half a dozen steaks don't fix.' He tips her a wink, but she feels her stomach roil slightly at the thought of steak.
She shakes her head. 'No meat. I cannot face meat right now.' She pauses, thinking. 'Pancakes. Pancakes would be good. A lot of pancakes. With peanut butter,' she adds, with the slightest hint of embarrassment. Her post blood cravings aren't exactly conventional. She'd equate it to pregnancy cravings, but she's never been through those, and she's fairly sure she never will.
He returns almost forty-five minutes later, by which time the sun has fully risen, and Hotch and JJ have joined them at the table. Once they've finished breakfast, they'll take the two of the identical black SUVs in the parking garage, and make their way back to headquarters, where they'll sort out the complete mess that last night had turned into.
Emily has no doubt that her mother has already found a way out of being held responsible. The only evidence they have is their own memories, and that isn't nearly enough to take down a woman so powerful.
She sighs as she loads the stack of pancakes onto the plate. There's a jar of peanut butter sitting at the bottom of the plastic bag, and she can't help but laugh. Has life always been this ridiculous, or has she just been too blind to see it?
There's not much talk as they eat. Not much to talk about really, save for the utterly depressing. They're exhausted as hell, and the investigation seems to be hammering away at their psyches from all sides. It's only been two days. These people do this near three hundred and sixty-five days a year. She marvels at their strength. Their dedication. She's spent her whole life running. Whenever things had gotten too tough, she'd dropped it all, and kept on moving. She's not sure if she has the strength to keep doing this, but she's damn well going to try.
After a meal that had made even Reid raise half an eyebrow, Emily finds herself retreating from the table somewhat sheepishly. She wanders off in search of a bathroom, to freshen up after the somewhat sweaty nature of last night's events. She'll take a shower when they get back to HQ; she wonders just how long the bag of clothes in the trunk of her car is going to last if she keeps having to change with such frequency. She's not sure how long it'll be before she gets the chance to put laundry on. For all she knows, she could be dead before she gets the chance.
After washing her face – something, upon consideration, she probably should have done before breakfast – she feels a little bit better, but it's not enough to quash the feeling that she might have royally screwed up last night's interview. If not for her antics, they wouldn't have been captured.
'Your mother's a crazy bitch, Emily,' she reminds herself. 'She probably would have done something, even if you hadn't.'
Talking to yourself now? You'll go crazy before you get a chance to die.
But then, she'd probably gone crazy a long time ago.