Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, Criminal Minds.
Who We Are
Part 4
By N. J. Borba
The BAU jet left eastern Washington in complete darkness, but rendezvoused with the sun half-way over Montana, which was currently causing streaks of golden light to permeate the cabin. Derek sat in the back of the plane, headphones on and wide awake as the others did their best to catch a bit more sleep. He closed his eyes for a moment, hoping the sunlight could ease his mind a little. Derek couldn't help worrying that he'd really messed things up with Emily. She hadn't said a word to him since her outburst at the river. Hotch had sent her to the hospital with Amy Ralls to get checked out while the rest of the team had stayed to wrap up all of the loose ends. And she'd been asleep at the hotel by the time he'd gone to talk to her, which had caused him to endure a night of fitful sleep.
Even through his eyelids, Derek knew that someone had stepped into the path of his sunlight. He opened his eyes and looked up to see Emily standing beside him in the aisle. The headphones were immediately shed, falling to his lap. "Can I sit?" she asked.
Leary of saying anything to spook her, he simply nodded a reply. She settled down into the seat opposite him and turned her head toward the sunshine. Derek watched her lips slowly curl into a soft smile. It warmed his heart a great deal. Seeing her look more content than she had in weeks set his mind at ease a little and helped him find a few words. "I owe you an apology," he started.
Her eyes slid his way. "I was about to say the same thing," Emily finally replied. "I mean, that I owe you an apology."
"No, you don't," he shook his head. "You were right last night," Derek glanced around the jet for a moment, hoping their conversation didn't carry too much. "I'm sorry if you felt like I was profiling you. That honestly wasn't my intention, but I guess it came out that way." He took a quick breath before proceeding. "I do understand that this job makes us want to be miracle workers, to save everyone. I did the same thing not too long ago."
"Morgan, you really don't have to explain," Emily stopped him. "I know you meant well, and I shouldn't have snapped at you like that."
Derek took a deep breath, not wanting her to make it easy for him. "When my dad died I was too young to do anything about it," he bravely forged ahead, feeling compelled to explain himself despite her insistence to the contrary. "But I could do something to help Ellie after her dad was killed. The overwhelming desire to help her and keep my promise to Spicer was what sent me into that house after Flynn. But I crossed a line that night, because I allowed myself to get too caught up in it," he confessed. "I've been trying to bounce back from that ever since, and I've only been successful in large part because of you; your patience and even just your presence. I realize now I haven't been very patient with you; pushing you like I did last night. But if you'll give me another chance I'd like to return the favor."
"You don't need another chance," she promptly assured him. "The way I see it, you're still on the clock. And friends don't always agree, right? Seems to me someone told me that recently," Emily flashed a grateful smile his way. "You were completely honest with me, Morgan, and I value that more than you could possibly know. It was just hard to hear the truth," she admitted.
He relaxed a little more with that air cleared, but Derek knew the hardest part of their conversation was yet to come. It needed to finally be addressed, though. "About that other thing we keep avoiding…" he began. Without using too many words that the others might misconstrue, Morgan tried to bow out gracefully. "We can forget about it if that's what you'd like, because if it means losing you as my friend then it wasn't worth it."
Emily's reaction to his words was two-fold. She didn't want to forget the kiss, because she wasn't sorry it had happened. But it was also a matter of bad timing, because she felt there was only so much she could give of herself at the moment. She didn't think she had enough to give him, and she knew it wouldn't be fair to string him along. "I don't have any plans on ditching this friendship," she finally expressed. "But for right now, I think that's all it can be."
His head bobbed. "If that's the way you want it," he agreed, holding on tightly to the words: right now.
"So…" Emily breathed out, testing the waters of their new situation. "I talked to Anna this morning before we left for the airport. I told her I was going to be back in town later today," she relayed.
His brows arched. "Then she's still at your place?"
"Yep," she replied with mixed emotion. "Apparently a thousand dollars in cash wasn't enough for her to pull up stakes?" Emily shrugged. She took a calming breath and looked him in the eye. "Can I run a few things by you?"
"Go for it," Morgan insisted.
"The search Garcia did on the doll revealed that my grandmother was making items for a company that is barely fifty years old. Meaning, my mother would have been twelve at the earliest time my grandmother could have made a doll with the Petits Jouets tag," she established. "Well… I wasn't exactly a typical twelve-year-old. I pretty much had my nose stuck in a book from the age of seven. I don't know if twelve year old girls still play with dolls, or even want them?"
Derek chuckled. "In case it's not obvious I've never been a twelve year old girl, so I doubt I can shed much light on that for you."
She grinned. "I was thinking more along the lines of you having sisters."
"Ah," Morgan nodded. "Well, when Sarah was twelve I was nine and my father had just died. Sarah sort of took on my mother's roll in the family, cooking and cleaning after school because mama had to go back to work," he explained. "And when Desi was twelve I was fifteen. At that time in my life I ate and breathed football. I wasn't exactly paying much attention to what she played with."
Emily changed gears. "Okay, how about this. I have no recollection of ever being overly attached to that doll the way my mother seems to think I was at age four."
"Do you remember a lot from when you were four years old?" he countered.
"I guess not. It's just… something still feels off about all of this," she sighed. "Do you trust my instincts?" Emily asked.
"Completely," he let her know.
She bit down softly on her lower lip. "Anna's story about being taken as a child, the things I read in Eric's journal, their upbringing, and her dream… it all still feels very sincere to me. So, I'm going to let Anna and Michelle stay for a while longer; give it some time to play out."
He swallowed. "I trust that you'll be cautious," Derek looked to her for reassurance and she nodded. "For the record, I have been wrong about hunches before and I really hope I'm way off base this time," he let her know. "But don't be surprised if I show up at your door every morning to make sure you're still alive." Derek was only half joking about the last part, but accompanied his words with a grin to help ease her mind.
Emily grinned too. "I wouldn't expect anything less."
xxx
The bullpen was noisy and bustling, typical of most weekday afternoons. Emily sat at her desk pouring over the details of the Grayson case as she wrote up her report for Hotch. She occasionally looked up from her task, usually just in time to see Reid quickly overt his gaze from aiming her direction. The third or fourth time it happened she made a soft tisking sound and shook her head. "Best keep your eyes on your own paper, Dr. Reid, or Hotch might have to dock you twenty points for cheating. Although, I think he gave us different essay questions, because my recollection of events yesterday is probably very different than yours," she pointed out.
Spencer gave up on his covert operation, which was not his expertise. "You seem to be in better spirits," he observed.
Emily shrugged. "I got five whole hours of sleep last night," she replied. "Plus nearly an hour on the flight back."
He smiled. "I thought I heard someone snoring on the jet."
A throaty chuckle escaped her lips. "That was very witty of you, Reid. You might just earn that real-boy degree after all," she teased.
Reid took her ribbing as a further sign of her better mood. "Didn't Hotch tell you to go home?" he asked.
"He did," she replied. "But I wanted to get this report finished first."
The young man nodded and turned his attention back to the report he was working on. He knew Emily hated to be treated with kid gloves. She was usually the one looking out for him and the others on the team like a big sister, but he couldn't help worrying. "You sure you're okay?"
"Yes," she insisted. "I'm fine, just a little sore," Emily admitted. "I jumped feet-first and tried to make myself go into the water as straight as possible, but apparently there are certain items on a woman's body that aren't meant to be aerodynamic."
"What…" Spencer's momentary curiosity slipped into realization and his cheeks flushed scarlet.
Emily was amused by his reaction, even though her impromptu dive had actually bruised the underside of those delicate features on her chest. She was about to smooth things over with the excitable genius when she spotted JJ striding toward them. The friendly hello on Emily's tongue never made it out when she noticed who was trailing behind the liaison. Emily suddenly felt a bit like a military cadet as she jumped to her feet to greet the man.
"Daddy," her voice couldn't hide the surprise she was feeling as her father clasped her hands and kissed her forehead.
Joseph Prentiss took a step back, still holding his daughter's hands. He stood a good few inches taller than her and wore a dark-gray suit that was tailored to him. "It's good to see you, pumpkin," he greeted, glancing around the space. "All they told me in the lobby was that you'd be on the sixth floor, but this place is huge. Thankfully Ms. Jareau here found me wandering in the corridor," he motioned a hand toward the blonde woman.
JJ caught Reid's eye as they both heard the man refer to Emily as, pumpkin. The term of endearment caused them to grin. It seemed a much more sincere interaction than the one they'd witnessed between Emily and her mother a few years back. "I was happy to help," JJ let him know.
Reid was introduced and the two men shook hands before Emily turned her attention back to her father. "What are you doing here, daddy?"
He squeezed the one hand he still had a hold of. "Can we talk somewhere private?"
"The conference room is free," JJ offered.
"Thanks," Emily replied before moving toward the stairs alongside her father.
xxx
Penelope sensed his presence in her office without even turning around to greet him. "Well, well… look what the kitty drug in. It's nice of you to finally let me know that you are, indeed, alive. You've been back for nearly three hours, what gives?"
Derek placed his hands on the back of her chair and turned her around to face him. He smiled apologetically. "It's called work, baby girl. And I think its Emily you should be worried about. She's the one who jumped off a cliff."
"Oh, yes, I'll be having some words with her too, don't you worry." Garcia easily caught the note of worry in his voice over Emily's well being and had to clamp down her desire to slap him upside the head for not telling Emily how much he carried about her. "But from what I hear, you were not exactly out of harm's way either, left to chase down a bad guy who was packing a Saturday night special."
He grinned at her choice of words. "I know how to take care of myself," Morgan assured her. "And right now I could really use your help on something," he quickly changed the subject. "I'm worried about Anna Wallace trying to extort money from Emily, or stealing her identity," he got straight to the point of his visit.
"You mean Laura Ingalls Wilder?" Penelope scoffed. "The woman doesn't even know how to dress for this century and you think she's after Emily's money?
"It's one theory we… I'm working on," he corrected himself mid-sentence, knowing that Emily was still leery of the accusations.
"Interesting," Garcia swiveled her chair so she was facing her computer screen again. She checked a few things before saying anything more. "All of Emily's accounts look perfectly perfect to me. And trust me when I tell you that no one is going to hack our dear Emily or try to steal anything from her, at least not in the cyber world. Her credit cards, savings account and trust fund won't be touched," Penelope declared.
Derek frowned. "And how do you know that?" He wasn't sure he wanted to know, but Emily's safety was of upmost importance to him at the moment.
"Because I have several safe guards set up for such things," Garcia let him know, catching the way his brow rose and fell in a questioning manner. "Don't look at me like that, secret agent man. It's nothing illegal, just some heavy-duty security I set in place for my besties. You all go out into the field where you have each other's backs. Well, this is me having all your backs."
The answer she gave didn't surprise him in the least, but his mind wandered for a second. "Emily has a trust fund?"
"I never see numbers," she was quick to reply. "But, yes."
Morgan dropped the topic as quickly as he'd picked it up. "And you're positive Anna wouldn't be able to gain access to Emily's money."
"I highly doubt it, unless she's a better hacker than me," Penelope replied. "So, what is all this about Anna? I haven't even met the woman but she seems to be a hot topic around the BAU, and not just because of her antiquated wardrobe. Then there's Ms. Emily who was in here yesterday with this cute stuffed cat, but she was asking some odd questions about its origin." Garcia looked up at him. "You know I hate being left out of the loop, which reminds me I need to ask you about a kiss later," she crooked a finger at him. "But first off, Anna Wallace; what gives?"
He bristled at her mention of the kiss, wondering how she'd managed to weasel that information out of Emily. But Derek was even more surprised by another fact. "I find it hard to imagine you haven't run a background check on her already," he noted.
"I thought she had no background."
"Everyone has a background."
That was Penelope's cue to be snoopy. She typed in the name and was confronted by multiple hits in the US; even narrowing it down to the state of Kansas left several results, but none that he could positively identify as Anna. "Have you got a picture?" she asked.
Derek shook his head. "No, sorry."
"Not to worry. I love a challenge," Garcia set right to it, searching through the BAU's surveillance archive. She had something pulled up in a matter of minutes. "Okay, here's Anna and her daughter in the main lobby when they first arrived. Mr. Security is doing his best to tell her that she needs photo ID to pass go and collect her two-hundred dollars, else she'll be sent straight to jail." Penelope zoomed in on the woman's face and then paused the video. "And, voila… one still photo of Anna Wallace," she declared. "Now, I just save this and…" several move keys were struck as she deftly manipulated information through cyberspace. "Simple as that she's in my facial recognition software program, where I will find a match if it is to be found."
"You're the best," he told her.
"You speak the truth," she grinned.
He shook his head at her boastful nature, knowing he often helped feed it. "How about something a little more challenging?"
"Bring it on."
He recalled the names Emily had dropped the day before. "Anna claims that the people who kidnapped her were Eli and Maggie Wallace. They could be completely bogus names, either created by Anna or by them. Either way, I need you to find whatever you can."
"Your wish is my command," Garcia chirped.
xxx
Emily closely watched her father as they walked into the conference room. His rigid posture deflated a great deal as they passed over the threshold between public and private. She'd just been upset with Morgan for profiling her actions, yet she found herself doing it with her father. It seemed a hard habit to break, but Emily couldn't help notice that he looked rather shaken. Not the steadfast man she'd always known him to be. "Can I get you some coffee, daddy?"
"No," his deep voice rumbled softly as they both took seats at the table. "I know that you went to see your mother yesterday," he stated.
She felt as if she was about to be scolded for doing something wrong. "Yes, I sort of made a fool out of myself. But I guess that's why you're here."
"I'm not here because I'm upset with you, Emily," he was quick to dispel that notion. "I don't exactly know how to tell you what I came here to discuss…" Joseph Prentiss wore his hair closely cropped. It was still very dark with small patches of silver interweaved. His tie was crisp, his cuffs perfectly folded and pressed. He looked the picture of a distinguished businessman, yet he tripped over his words. "The truth has been buried so long that…" he gave up on speaking for a moment, pulled something from his pocket and slid it across the table to her. "I need to tell you the truth about Charlotte."
"Nana?" Emily's brows knit together. "Is this about the doll?" she reached for the item he'd shoved toward her and discovered it was a photograph.
"Not your grandmother," he shook his head. "Your sister, Charlotte. She was named after your grandmother."
The room around her seemed to sway a bit as his words sank in. "My sister?" Emily did her best to maintain composure. A great deal of shock coursed through her veins, but also a hint of vindication that she'd apparently been right, at least about the part where she had a sister. More than anything, though, she felt utterly confused as she tried to make sense of it all. "Daddy, I asked mother if I had a sister and she…"
"Lied to you," he finished. "I got a call from her last night at the hotel in Denver. She was sobbing as she told me what happened."
"She lied?" Emily forcefully bit off the words. Her confusion took a drastic turn into anger, despite knowing her mother had cried over the obvious deception. She didn't think she'd seen her mother sob for any reason. "Why did she lie, daddy? Was it to cover for you? Did you cheat on her?"
He didn't take offense to her question. "No, Charlotte was our child. Your mother gave birth to her when we were just eighteen. We were married because of it, because that's what was done back then. And she had to take special night classes after being kicked out of our school," he explained. "I cared for your mother a great deal, but I wasn't prepared for marriage and a baby at that age. We struggled through it somehow, though." He noticed she was staring at him. "Look at the photo, pumpkin," he implored. "There were some hard times, but we were never happier than on that day. I took that shot of my three girls shortly after you were born."
Emily had glanced briefly at the photo, but now she lowered her gaze to have a better look. She'd thought the older child was her at first glance, and the baby some sort of a doll. Now she could see that wasn't the case. The three or four year old girl in the picture looked the spitting image of her father, and Emily knew that she'd always favored her mother. "Where is Charlotte now?" Emily finally asked, even though he'd spoken about her in the past tense earlier.
"You were only six months old at the time…" he took a deep breath to steady his voice, but there were no tears. Those had all been shed long ago. "Your mother took an internship with the Council of American Ambassadors right out of college and there was a reception for the president that night that she had to attend," he got lost in the telling. "I'd planned to go with her, but our sitter got ill and your grandparents were traveling in Europe at the time. So, I stayed home with you girls."
She was more than a little surprised to know that her father had ever taken care of her. Emily only remembered there being nannies and babysitters. "Daddy, what happened that night?" she spurned him onward.
"I'd actually been rather proud of myself because I managed to get you both to sleep with very little trouble," he relayed. "Later I was downstairs eating, watching an Orioles game that I would have missed if I'd been at your mother's gathering. Then you woke up crying. You were always such a quiet little thing, but that night you were inconsolable. I tried everything I could think of, I fed you, changed your diaper… rocked you. I finally asked if you wanted to see Charlotte," his voice quaked.
Emily was pretty certain she'd never heard her father sound so heartbroken. "Did we go see her?"
"Yes," he replied after a long beat. "It was strange how close the two of you were even though you were just a baby. You calmed down right away when I mentioned Charlotte, so I walked you to her room," Joseph sucked in a breath. "The second I opened the door I knew something was wrong. It was so cold in there, freezing. First I noticed the open window, and then the empty bed."
A lump caught in her throat, but she whispered around it. "Charlotte was gone."
"We never found her," he skipped over all the details of that harrowing time in their lives. "After several months your mother decided she wanted to burry Charlotte. She wanted a funeral, even though Charlotte wasn't..." after forty years he still had troubling say the words aloud. "We held one, and then it was over."
"That was it?" Emily's voice filled with disgust. "You just… stopped looking?"
"We had to move on with our lives, Emily."
She tried to deal with one emotion at the time, though it wasn't easy. And more than she was upset about them giving up on her sister, she was pissed off that they'd lied to her about all it for so many years. "Daddy, why didn't you ever tell me what happened? How could you not tell me I had a sister?"
"We thought it was best. We didn't see the sense in telling you since Charlotte was never coming home," Joseph explained. "Your mother got her first assignment a year later. We moved to Amsterdam where she was an aid to the ambassador there. I traveled back and forth to the US to conduct business. We had to move on with our lives," he repeated.
And Emily felt like she'd been lost in the shuffle of it all. But, as much as she hated the thought of them moving on, it was a sentiment she'd heard from parents of kidnapped children many times before. She stared at the picture again, studying it harder. Her mother looked so young and she was smiling, holding baby Emily in one arm as Charlotte was pressed against her other side. When she finally noticed the item tucked under her sister's arm, Emily was hard pressed to keep tears at bay. "The doll was Charlotte's," Emily knew it had never really been hers.
Her father nodded. "Charlotte adored that cat. She carted it everywhere," he recalled. "When your mother and I were both trying to get through college it was difficult having a toddler underfoot, so Charlotte spent a great deal of time with your grandparents. They looked after her for days, sometimes weeks at a time. Your grandmother made that cat for Charlotte and gave it to her for her first Christmas. I remember…" his voice hitched again. "I saw it on the floor by the window the night she was taken, and all I could think was that she'd be so upset without her doll."
"Daddy," Emily reached for his hand, despite how upset she still was with him.
"It was the only thing your mother couldn't part with when we sorted through her things," he spoke up again, voice steady. "She wanted you to have it. In some way she did want you to have a part of your sister; it just hurt too much to talk about it."
Emily wanted to cry and scream all at the same time. "You never should have given up on her," she shook her head, thinking about Anna. But as she looked at the little girl in the picture, she didn't so much see Anna as she did Michelle. "You never should have stopped looking, daddy. Because I think she's still alive."
xxx
Derek paced a section of floor just outside the glass doors that led into the bullpen. He'd heard from JJ that Emily was talking to her father, and although he still had a report to finish, he was hoping to catch her when she was done and maybe get a bite to eat for lunch. He wanted to talk about the fact that Garcia hadn't been able to get any hits on Anna's picture; no aliases, no birth certificate, no school records, not a single shred of evidence to prove that anyone with her face existed. And he was also curious to hear about her father's visit. But his lunch plan began to unravel when the elevator doors to his right opened and Michelle and Anna stepped out.
"Hi, Derek!" the girl bounded toward him, long braid swishing across her back.
Even though he suspected her mother of wrongdoing, there was no way Morgan could keep from smiling at the innocent child. "Hey, sweetness," he reached out to skim his hand over the top of her head. "What are you doing here?"
"We made Emily lunch," Michelle pointed to the paper bag her mother was holding.
"Kind of a long trek just to bring her lunch," Derek responded as he carefully eyed Anna. He couldn't help notice the clothes she was wearing; a black knee-length skirt and green silk blouse. It was still fairly modest attire, but certainly more fitting for the decade, and new. He also let his eyes notice something he hadn't before; her hands. They were not the soft, unblemished hands of a woman who'd lived an easy life by stealing money from other people. They were worn and big-knuckled; a sign of hard work. "How did you get here?" he remained cautious but amiable.
"We took a cab," Anna replied. "Emily left some money for us while she was gone, which I was reluctant to use. But after talking to her this morning about what happened on your case… well, I was worried. I thought maybe she could use a friend."
"She has friends here," he was quick to reply. "And she's talking to her father right now."
"I'm sorry; I didn't realize her father was visiting."
Morgan watched the woman for some sign of nervousness at the mention of Emily's father. "I think it was a surprise to her too," he relayed.
"We should go then," Anna reached for her daughter's hand. "Her father is a much more important visitor than us."
Derek finally realized that it was disappointment that he was seeing on Anna's face. She looked genuinely let down, which caused Morgan to finally drop his guard with her. He was about to stop her from leaving, but someone beat him to it. "Anna, wait!" Emily called to the woman.
Michelle twirled around and flung her arms about Emily's waist. Her big green eyes looked up at the woman who'd become her friend in a short period of time. "My mom said you jumped into a river yesterday, are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Emily let her know, seeing the girl through different eyes. She couldn't believe that Michelle might be her niece. But she tried not to let her mind go there, because her theory about Anna being her sister had already been disproved once. "I was helping a little girl."
"I know. Mommy said you saved her life, because you're a hero," Michelle beamed.
Emily kissed the top of the child's head. "I don't know about that, chaton," she replied. "I was just doing my job." She turned to her father who was carefully eyeing the older woman and her daughter. "Daddy, this is Anna," Emily finally introduced them.
"It's very nice to meet you, Anna," Joseph said as he extended his hand to her. "Emily was just telling me a little about you."
Anna easily accepted his hand. "I'm sure that was a rather boring conversation, my life is hardly as exciting as hers. Your daughter is much too modest. Michelle was right; Emily is a hero for doing the things she does. Her whole team is. They took the time to speak with me even though they all know very well that it is unlikely to find a person's family after forty years."
The elevator behind them dinged, causing Anna and Joseph to break apart. Emily, her father and Derek all looked over and recognized the person that had exited the elevator. Elizabeth Prentiss stepped out looking like someone had lit a fire under her. Anna and Michelle edged toward Derek and the three of them shrank back a little as the ambassador's eyes nearly blazed a hole through her husband. "You told her, didn't you?"
"She had a right to know, Liz," the man replied, looking a bit pale in the wake of his angry wife. "Were we going to keep it from her forever?"
"Yes," Elizabeth replied. "We agreed the day we bur…"
"We buried no one, Lizzie," he bravely spoke the word she'd gotten stuck on. "We buried an empty coffin and our emotions. And pretending that it wasn't a lie because we never told her; that was juvenile thinking on our part. Emily had the right to grieve for Charlotte, too."
"This is hardly the place to be discussing any of it," Elizabeth snapped.
"Please, stop…" Anna stepped between them, seeing that Emily looked rather distressed by the conversation between her parents. "I don't know why you are both so upset, but maybe you can talk about it with calmer voices," she suggested.
Ambassador Prentiss, international diplomat with a mile-long reputation for keeping her wits about her under complex circumstances, was rendered silent by the sight of the woman. She looked into Anna's hazel eyes and her whole body tensed. A hand went to her chest as she stumbled backwards. Emily was the first to intercept her mother, and Derek was at the woman's other side a second later as she fell to her knees. "I can't catch my breath…" she gasped.
"Mother," fear laced Emily's voice as she tried to help. "What's wrong?"
Elizabeth didn't get a chance to answer before passing out.
To Be Continued…