AN: IMPORTANT-just fyi, there is a lot of Spanish in this story. When Spanish phrases are used, I've used Google Translate to ensure the right meaning. My Spanish is limited, so I'm going with the translation from Google. If something's off, let me know, but I generally try and explain what's being said. Also, most of the time I'll cheat and just have it in English, but say they said it in Spanish. Sometimes, I'll forget though, but you'll catch on.
Hotch nodded at Emily as she boarded the plane, his phone pressed closely to his ear. "Yeah, Will, it's me. I was wondering if you could pick Jack up from school until Jessica gets off work." He paused for a minute as the other man spoke. "It's just a case at the last minute, shouldn't take longer than today." Pausing again, he smiled softly. "Thanks Will."
Ending the call, he felt the pit in his stomach deepen as he thought of the other little boy that was motherless due to his mistake. Henry was in Kindergarten now, any memories of his mother long forgotten—all because he hadn't done enough.
"Did you call Garcia?" Emily asked as soon as she could tell he was off the call.
"I talked to Kevin, asked him to keep her away from electronics for the next 24 hours. If it's a false alarm—" He trailed off, not needing to explain the ramifications of what another false alarm would mean.
Emily nodded quickly. "That was hard on all of us." She murmured agreeing with him entirely. Both she and Hotch were consumed with guilt from the memory their mistake caused Penelope so much pain. After JJ's disappearance, Garcia's life had quickly become obsessed with finding JJ—and the false identification Hotch and Emily made several years ago had almost crippled the eclectic tech.
Hotch grimaced, lost in his own memory. Holding the file out to her, she simply waved him off. "I think I have it memorized by now." She smiled apologetically.
Hotch nodded, he too having long ago memorized every fact contained in the file.
"How many more of these are we going to do?" Emily spoke to herself softly as she looked out her own window. "It's been three years."
"I could take someone along with me if you'd like." Hotch said coldly, his tolerance snapping almost immediately. "I'd hate for this to be too much for you Agent Prentiss."
"I've been to just as many of these as you have." She retorted curtly, slightly chagrined she had voiced her thoughts aloud. She bit her tongue forcefully as she tried to control her emotions, remembering a promise she had made to Derek to try and not goad Hotch into an argument. Sighing, she explained, "I just don't know how many more of these I can take."
Hotch's eyes hardened quickly, "I'll remember that next time you're handed over to a major drug lord."
Emily whipped around quickly, her lips tightening quickly as her resolve flew out the window. "Don't you dare suggest that I don't feel guilty." She snapped, pointing her finger with emphasis. "I still dream about it. You weren't there." She accused.
Hotch shot back quickly, "No, I wasn't there. Maybe if I had been, things would have turned out differently."
Instantly remorseful as he saw her face drain of all color, he cringed when he realized he had pushed a little too far. "Prentiss, I'm sorry." He shook his head as he realized that maybe Dave had been right in telling him that he needed to give Emily the benefit of the doubt.
She held up her hand angrily. "Don't. Just—Don't." She sat back horrified as the memories, usually reserved for her nightmares, flooded back into her mind.
The gun pointed at JJ gleamed in the moonlight. In another situation, Emily may have even stopped to notice the way the stars lit up the sky here in an open field in the middle of Nebraska.
"You talk. I shoot you." The man with the gun poked the gun into the soft flesh of JJ's cheek. "¿Comprende?"
JJ nodded, obviously fighting to control her emotions. Emily stood frozen, but one look from the men that ambushed them deep in the cornfield made her nod to show her understanding. She glanced down at the phone she had been forced to drop mid-sentence, hoping that Derek realized something was wrong.
"¡Este no era el plan!" The man standing in front of JJ shouted, pulling at the gun in the larger man's hands. Emily felt a surge of gratitude that they were speaking a language she understood.
"We'll take one of the women to pay our debt." The second man suggested in Spanish, both men blissfully unaware that one of their captives understood them perfectly. Emily cringed. Ransom? If they were looking for ransom for either of them, Emily was willing and ready to pay it.
Forcing herself not to look at the men who were speaking, she felt a pang of terror for her friend that obviously had no idea what was happening. JJ's eyes studied the gun burried in the soft flesh of her cheeks. If she wasn't stuck up against a wall with her hands above her head while these thugs pointed a gun in her friend's face, she might be able to do something. Right now, she was stuck.
"But he told us to bring him money or drugs. Will he take a woman as payment?" The second man asked.
"Of course, idiot. Either woman is beautiful, one should satisfy the debt." The man with the gun nodded, turning to his younger, shorter companion, he added, "But we only need one."
"What do we do with the other one?" The shorter man asked.
"Leave her to the coyotes." The first man sneered. "Now, which one do we take?"
"I saw her on TV." The second man pointed at JJ. "She's probably worth more."
"We'll take the blonde" The first spoke decisively. In one swift motion, he moved the gun from JJ's face and swung it around, smacking JJ alongside her left temple with a resounding thud.
Emily didn't even have time to move before the first man clubbed the gun against the side of her head, immediately covering Emily's world in darkness.
"Prentiss, I'm sorry." Hotch insisted again. Seeing that she refused to answer, he added. "This is the last one, I promise."
"I want to find her too, Hotch." She insisted softly, the coldness in her voice easily detectable. "I just don't think I can do this anymore."
"I know." He sighed as he looked out the window. How had it all come to this?
Author's Note/Translation: ¡Este no era el plan!-This was not the plan