PRENTISS

She had just curled up with a good book and a glass of wine when the sharp trill of her cell pierced the silence. Sergio purred in her lap, but his hum turned to a pitiful meow as she stretched to reach the phone.

"Hello?"

"Agent Prentiss, it's Agent Hotchner."

She stifled a small huff of laughter at his all-business tone even now. The man was seriously unflappable. "Is everything alright?"

"Not really," he said honestly. "How soon can you come in?"

"I thought Chief Strauss ordered us all to take a week. Are you still at the office?" She knew he took a lot onto his own shoulders, but everyone had their limits. She wondered if he was nearing his yet.

"Something's come up," he answered. "How soon?"

"Thirty minutes?" she guessed looking down at her sweatpants and faded t-shirt. She'd spent the day cleaning her flat in an attempt to keep her thoughts off of her lost friend. She'd just finished with a shower and a quick dinner when he'd called. Still, as an agent she was ready at a moment's notice to drop everything and go out on a case. Thirty minutes was pushing it, but anything more was unacceptable in her eyes.

"Good. See you then." He hung up without another word and she shook her head. Aaron Hotchner took the word workaholic to a whole new level, and she suspected that Morgan's death had only pushed him further into his work. She made a mental note to talk to Rossi about it; the older agent had a solid friendship with their leader and would be the best candidate to get him to take a break and deal with all of this.

Ten minutes later she was locking her front door and taking the stairs down to the lobby. She normally took the Metro, but she didn't have the luxury of waiting for the train. She dug her car keys from her purse and crossed the street to the small parking garage reserved for residents.

The drive from her apartment to Quantico normally took twenty minutes, but it was late in the evening and there was relatively little traffic on the roads. By the time she was pinning her badge to her jacket, she had five minutes to spare.

"Thank you for coming in on short notice," Hotch beckoned her into the conference room where Rossi and JJ were waiting.

"What's going on?" She took her usual seat on the right side of the room and tried to ignore the pang of sadness that hit her when she glanced at Morgan's empty chair.

"I'd rather go over it just once," he said. "Reid is on his way in."

"Garcia?"

He hesitated a moment, and Prentiss sat up a little straighter. "I didn't want to involve her just yet," he admitted. "It will only add to her stress, and right now she doesn't need that."

"She's gonna be pissed when she finds out you excluded her," Prentiss replied.

"It's better for her this way," he said firmly. "There's nothing she can do right now. As soon as that changes, I will call her." He turned as Reid walked in, and the conversation was over. Prentiss looked at JJ for help, but the blonde seemed just as confused as she was. Reid settled down in his chair and Hotch began.

"Thank you all for coming in. I know it's a difficult time right now, and I wouldn't have called you if it wasn't important." He looked at all of them in turn, then took another breath. "I've been in contact with Dan Heffield with the National Transportation and Safety Board."

"Are they investigating the crash?" Reid asked.

"Yes," Hotch affirmed. "I asked him to keep me apprised of any changes in the investigation. Some of you might know, but they found a few survivors." At the hopeful glances of his colleagues, he shook his head sadly. "None of them were Morgan," he told them solemnly. "This afternoon he called me with more findings."

"Something tells me we're not going to like this." Rossi tried to lighten the dark mood that had settled over the team, but no one so much as cracked a smile.

"He says the plane was crashed on purpose." A hush fell over them as they absorbed the information, and Prentiss' thoughts immediately flashed back to a cool New York morning. She hadn't been in the city during the attack, but there wasn't an American who'd been alive that day who hadn't been affected by it. Once her thoughts caught back up with her, she dug in her pocket for her phone.

"Who are you calling?" Hotch asked as she stood.

"Garcia," she returned sharply. "She should have been here for this, Hotch."

"We don't know all the facts," he held up a hand to stall her. "They've asked for our help identifying the person responsible." He glanced over his shoulder at Rossi and JJ, and Prentiss didn't miss the look that passed between them. She shoved her phone back into her pocket and focused on it.

"What was that?"

"There's something else," Hotch said slowly. "Yesterday I received a phone call from a woman who claimed the plane crash hadn't been an accident."

"And you dismissed her?" Prentiss knew she shouldn't be raising her voice, especially at her boss, but her emotions were all over the map right now. If he took offense, Hotch didn't show it.

"I can't open an official line of inquiry without evidence, you know that. Now we have some, and I intend to pursue the lead."

"Strauss okayed this?" Rossi sounded surprised, and Prentiss couldn't blame him. The Department Chief lived by the book, and being involved in the investigation of a teammate's death was a definite no-no.

"Yes," Hotch nodded, "but we couldn't authorize the jet. We'll have to drive to West Virginia first thing in the morning." It was a dismissal, and Reid jumped up from his seat and made for the door. Rossi and JJ followed eagerly, but Prentiss held back. When they were alone, she turned to their team leader.

"You have to tell her," she said. "We can't go without her."

"I'm not sure how much help she can be." She could see how deeply he was affected by this, but his first thoughts were always of his team. "And it might make things worse for her."

"When you got the news, you didn't hesitate. You knew you had to be there doing everything possible to help find this guy. I'd even lay money that you had to fight Strauss on this one." His expression said it all. "You can't think she wouldn't want to be right there with us."

"We'll have to visit the scene," he argued, though she could hear in his tone that he was slowly giving in.

"She doesn't," Prentiss countered, "but she needs us right now. Sitting here all alone will be worse."

He stared at her for a moment, then nodded sharply. "Alright," he acquiesced. "I'll call her. Go get your stuff ready."

"Thank you," Prentiss reached out and squeezed his arm gratefully before leaving him alone in the conference room. The last thing she heard before the door shut behind her was the soft tone of his keypad as he dialed Garcia's number.