Chapter 15: Suicide by cop

Aaron Hotchner made two steps into the living room. He had a clear sight on the kitchen and the strange couple half lying on the ground. Seeing that Emily had the control over the situation and was pointing her gun at Joseph Schrader's head, the dark-haired man slightly lowered his own weapon. He paused a moment, taking in her disheveled appearance: a bloody scar was reaching from the corner of her eye to the middle of her cheek; another nasty cut which seemed partially healed could be seen at the base of her scalp, and what worried him most was the look in her eyes, where exhaustion mixed with determination and pure rage. And yet, when Hotch's eyes locked with hers, he knew deep inside that she was not going to shoot. At least, she would not have, if Joseph Schrader hadn't plunged forward in a vain attempt to grab the brunette's gun. Hotch was getting ready to shoot him but, before he could react, an explosion echoed as the bullet went right through Schrader's chest.

The seconds that followed seemed like hours. No one moved, until Hotch was brought back to reality by a terrifying thought.

"The Richards."

Emily raised questioning eyes in his direction, her mouth gaping, but she was too much in shock to say anything.

"He abducted his accomplice's family."

As the realization of what she had just done hit Emily, shock was replaced by anger. Her fingers were so numb that the gun fell to the ground, and the brunette pressed both hands on Schrader's chest, willing to take the bullet away. The tears welling up in her eyes had made her sight so blurry that she could not decide whether the man was still breathing or not. All she could discern was the pool of blood seeping through Schrader's shirt, as she pressed harder on the fabric to stop it from flowing.

"Where are they?" she shouted, her voice taking a shriek tone she had never heard before. "Where are they?"

In a matter of seconds, Aaron Hotchner had put his gun into the holster and had walked to the brunette. She barely felt as the man took her by the shoulders to turn her away from the obviously dead body. A shiver ran from Emily's body through Hotch's arms as he squeezed her shoulders more firmly, pulling the woman into a hug so that she would stop staring at Schrader. When Derek tumbled through the door, ready to defend his colleagues and put down the unsub, Hotch greeted him with a concerned look and shook his head to make him understand that it was over. Derek's eyes lingered over the two dead bodies. Of Emily, he could only see her brown hair, as she had buried her face into the crook of Hotch's neck.

"Did you find them?" the man finally asked. He couldn't believe that three persons would die because they arrived a few seconds too late.

When Derek nodded, his mouth still half-opened as he considered the bloodshed and poor state of his colleagues, Hotch pulled Emily away from him, cupping her face with both hands.

"They're alive. Morgan found them. Emily, do you hear me? It's okay, they are alive."

Since he could not help any more with his female colleague, Morgan decided that it would probably best to let her some privacy. So he left the room and jogged back to the garage, where the Richards family was still waiting for him to come to the rescue.

Hotch tried to steal a look of Emily's face and was surprised to see that she wasn't even crying. This was worse than he had thought.

"He made me do it." She shrugged as she realized that Schrader had used the same words not fifteen minutes ago. "He pressed my hand over the gun. He pulled the trigger."

Emily raised a concerned glance, which took Hotch aback. Was she really justifying right now? Was she truly thinking that he would only be interested in the circumstances of Schrader's death? As he did not answer, Emily pulled free from his hands and stood up to leave the crime scene. Her hands were smeared with blood and she wiped them off on her trousers before walking out into the fresh air. She stood there for a while, listening to the quietness of the place, which was soon disturbed by the sobs of children somewhere in the back of the house, and the sirens of the back-up arriving.

Hotch had to wait for a moment before his legs allowed him to stand up. He felt gutted, a state he had last experienced when he was looking down at George Foyet's dead body. As on autopilot, Hotch ignored his male colleague who was walking along the house, guiding Evelyn Richards with one hand and holding onto one of the little boys, and slowly approached Emily from behind. He knew all too well the feeling of having the world crumble around you, and despite the apparent tranquility of the brunette, Hotch also knew he could not let her deal with it alone. So he just stood at her side and enjoyed the fresh air and star-filled sky with her. After four minutes that seemed like four hours to the unit chief, Emily turned towards him.

"How did you know?" By that, she meant of course how they knew she was here, in this remote place.

"We are damn good at our job." Hotch allowed himself to smile. It was imperceptible, but still the first smile in the last two days. Emily did however not answer same wise; she was already wrapped up in other thoughts.

"I just wish it would have ended differently." Hotch raised an eyebrow at her comment, and turned so that he could fully face her, speaking only when she had locked with his gaze. "Trust me, no ending would have suited you." Emily just stared into his eyes. She knew he was right. From the moment Lizzie had slumped onto the floor of Emily's apartment, the situation had been doomed to end tragically.

Hotch watched as three police cars stopped abruptly at the beginning of the alleyway. Officers in uniform came running uphill towards the house, taking in the sight of Emily in her work suit, all bloody and shivering, and the man signaled as FBI at her side. They split up as half of them penetrated in the house to canvass the crime scene, while the rest of the officers continued to meet a strange group composed of the three hostages and another FBI agent. To Hotch's relief, the blue cars were soon joined by an ambulance. The sheriff, aware that hostages were involved, had taken the precaution of bringing paramedics with him. Emily had still not moved from her spot.

"Are you okay?" Hotch couldn't remember how many times he had asked this question to all of his agents. But tonight, the words sounded differently. Soft. Protective.

"I will be." She simply said, although she did not dare at the moment raising a hand to assess the extent of her injuries. The scar on her cheekbone had already been completed by a dark bluish bruise, and another one could be seen in her neck, just where the shirt ended. Hotch had a clear sight on the injury, as Emily had pulled her hair into a ponytail.

"Come on, we have to check you out." With a hand on the small of her back, the unit chief guided his agent to the paramedics, who were already jogging in their direction. Leaving her in good hands, Aaron took the opportunity to gather his thoughts and care for the rest. After all, even if it hadn't felt like it for 24 hours, he still was the one in charge.

He watched as Derek was handing the little boy he had been carrying over to another team of paramedics, saying a few more words to the middle-aged woman, whose state was much worse than Emily. The younger agent left the group and brushed a tired hand over his face. Both men gathered in the middle of the alleyway, which had been so quiet a few minutes ago and was now swarming with people. They did not speak for a minute, still registering everything that had happened in the past hour.

"How is she?" Derek asked and Hotch saw that his eyes were set on the brunette, currently arguing with the paramedic disinfecting her numerous scars.

"I don't know."

"I can't believe it's finally over. This has surely been the longest day in my life…" Derek ended his statement with a deep sigh, to prove his point. "Did she…?"

"No." Hotch cut in rather sharply. "He forced her to kill him."

"Oh." The younger agent didn't know whether to be relieved that his colleague would not face a thorough interrogation, or concerned at the potential psychological impact it could have on her.

"Where did you find the family?" Hotch snapped back to reality when his eyes wandered over the frail silhouette of Evelyn Richards.

"In a closed room behind the garage. Can you imagine that they have been kept here for a whole month?" Derek asked rhetorically with an angry voice.

"They will never be the same again. Do they know about Jeffrey?"

"I didn't tell them yet. Let them settle down first." Hotch nodded, observing the tears falling down the children's faces, that reminded him so much of Jack. As though sensing that his boss was going down this path, Derek tried to change his mind.

"It's good to have you back." A single look from Hotch told the younger agent that he had gotten the message implied. He was endlessly grateful to his team for having dealt with his bad character.

Another silence followed, that was easier to bear now that some things had been cleared behind the two men. Derek couldn't repress a chuckle when Emily's angry voice resounded. She was shooting fiery looks at the young paramedic, who was apparently not showing enough softness.

"I am going to intervene before she lets out her anger at him…" Derek said before jogging down the alleyway. Even though he knew that Emily had been in good hands with Hotch, he had wanted to hug his female colleague since he had first seen her near Schrader's body. For him too, this had been a long and stressful day, and he couldn't even find the words to describe the relief that had washed over him as he saw that she was alright.

"Hey, Prentiss…" he approached the ambulance, granting an understanding glance to the young EMT and squeezing a hand on Emily's shoulder. She barely looked up but Derek was relieved to see that she had snapped back to reality.

"Thank you for coming." She said, trying to keep control over her voice. From the corner of her eye, she could see Hotch watching them, oblivious to the two policemen trying to get a statement off him.

"Well, you could have made things easier for us." He tried as hard as he could not to make it sound like a reproach, and the hand soothing circles on Emily's back managed to prove his point.

"I'm sorry for shutting you all out."

The words sounded hollow, Emily realized as she spoke them out. She could understand her colleagues' frustration but didn't feel like dealing with it at the moment. She had to push too many thoughts to the back of her mind.

"The others will be all over you when you come back."

"Don't scare me, Morgan." Emily groaned. If she was honest with herself, she was already dreading to face her team and the hierarchy. She would definitely have a lot of explaining to do. For a split second, Emily even considered not going back at all, but she quickly pushed that thought away as she looked into Derek's concerned eyes and saw Hotch in the background, his eyes still set on her. Her superior was on the phone, probably handing over the good news to the rest of the team.

"I'm glad you're okay. Be nice to the kid." At the comment, Emily shot a falsely angry look at her colleague. The terror in the EMT's eyes was clear – and awfully funny.

JJ jogged up the stairs to Rossi's office as she saw the elderly agent raise a hand from behind the blinds, motioning for his colleagues to join him. After having called out to Reid, who was wrapped up in some reading of his – his personal way to get his mind off the situation – JJ took two steps at a time. No one was there to watch her sudden hurry. It was well past midnight, and the last agents had left approximately thirty minutes ago after a long evening of doing paperwork. The blonde swung the door open and looked with expectation at her colleague.

"Yes. Yes, I'm relieved. No. Okay, see you then. Thanks for letting us know." Forgetting her usual softness and patience, JJ was suddenly very frustrated at the one-word answers of Rossi. She turned around as she felt Reid's torso press against her back, and moved slightly to let him some space in the door frame.

"They found her." Rossi did not try to hide the relief in his voice.

"Is she okay?" Reid asked uncertainly.

"A few cuts and bruises, but nothing too serious." Rossi paused before going onto more serious matters. "Schrader's dead."

JJ had been holding her breath and was slowly taking in her colleague's words. Even though one question was burning everyone's lips, no one actually dared to say the words. They would know soon enough whether Emily was in any trouble.

"And the Richards' family?" JJ's soft tone disrupted the silence.

"Alive. Apparently Schrader's brother protected them from Joseph's craziness."

"Good."

All three fell silent, their eyes searching the others' faces for a reaction which did not come. Finally, JJ snapped back to reality when she realized that one more team member was still in the dark.

"I have to call Penelope." With that, she had left the tiny office and walked down the flight of stairs, followed by two pairs of eyes. Reid couldn't help noticing that her whole body attitude had relaxed since Rossi's phone call. When the doctor shifted his attention back to the man sitting at his desk, he saw that Rossi was staring at him.

"When will they be back?" he asked.

"The jet is picking them up in a few hours. They'll be here by morning."

"They are not staying the night there?"

"I think Emily can't wait to be back."

Reid nodded, grimacing as he prepared for his next interrogation:

"How is she doing? Really?"

Rossi cleared his throat, considering for a second whether he truly believed Hotch's vision of the situation.

"Aaron says she says she is fine." The younger agent rolled his eyes, obviously not trusting this statement either.

"Okay." He purposely stressed the word, to show his skepticism.

"I don't believe it either. When she comes back, she will have an awful lot to deal with."

"She's in safe hands with Derek and Hotch."

"I know." Rossi raised his eyes, relieved to see that anger had left Reid's eyes since their last conversation. The silence lasted for a few seconds, before Reid's hands began fidgeting again.

"Coffee?" he offered, already reaching for Rossi's mug on the desk.

"Bedtime." His answer stopped the doctor in his tracks, and he looked somewhat disappointed. Reid probably needed some more team time before facing his solitude.

"JJ will be glad to spend some time with you and Garcia. Go out and have a drink." The elderly agent said gently. "Dealing with Strauss all day has worn me out."

Reid chuckled at the answer and finally left Rossi to his quietness, after a final nod. Rossi stayed seated for a long moment, enjoying the relative silence of the premises. He joined both his hands in front of his face, as he always did when he was in deep thoughts. He had not lied to Reid: he was exhausted to play brave face all day, to reassure his colleagues, to help his friend Hotch not to crumble while dealing simultaneously with Strauss' attacks. He had deserved a good night's rest before he went to pick up his colleagues at the airport and offer them a supportive shoulder.