AN: Final chapter. Tylenol 3 or T-3 is a combination of acetaminophen and codeine.

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or Tylenol. Catherine Jareau is mine.

Buffy: I'm beyond tired. I'm beyond scared.

I'm standing on the mouth of Hell and it is going to swallow me whole.

Season 7, Bring on the Night, BTVS

Saturday December 18th, 2010

I wake up in excruciating pain. The whip marks on my back are screaming. At some point last night, while I was asleep, I must have rolled over onto my back. I sit up, gasping for air, and make a concerted effort to regulate my breathing so that I can control some of the pain. Pursed-lip breathing works occasionally, but more often than that, I just have to let the agony wash over me until I can find the pain meds that I always seem to forget to take before bed. I should have learned by now, but nights are always so bad that I'm concentrating on surviving the flashbacks and nightmares, taking the pills never seems important enough until the following morning.

I frown when I notice that Emily isn't lying in bed next to me. I'm not exactly worried though, because I can hear noise coming from the kitchen through the closed kitchen door. No, not just noise, voices too. Damn it, Ashley's up. I sigh in frustration; I'm going to have to apologize soon. Apologizing is embarrassing but I could have handled myself better last night. Learning that Ashley speaks French, or at least understand some of it threw me for a loop. I'm so used to Emily and I being the only ones to hold conversations in French. I know that Spencer reads it, though I have never heard him try to speak, and Jen knows a couple of phrases, but not enough to carry out an actual conversation.

I climb out of bed slowly so as not to aggravate my back further. Now, where did I leave my Tylenol 3's? I don't think I brought them into Emily's en-suite last night. I shudder lightly when I notice my previously bloodstained pajamas hanging on the shower curtain rod. Doing my best not to look at the shower, I double-check the bathroom for my pain pills just to be sure. No, they're not here. Hmm, maybe they're back in my room. I know I packed them. I can't have possibly left them in the living room last night could I? I wince internally, that would be really embarrassing. I should check my room before I check the living room. Now if only I could get to my room without the two women in the kitchen hearing me in the hallway.

I open Emily's bedroom door, grateful that the only noise is my breathing.

Sergio, who is sitting at my feet, meows at me.

I ignore the pain in my back as much as possible and pick up Emily's kitten and cuddle him to my chest. I know that Sergio's meowing only gets louder when he doesn't receive attention soon after asking for it, and that would be counter-productive. I whisper, "Hey buddy, why aren't you in the kitchen begging scraps from Emmy?"

I walk down the hall slowly; Sergio purring in my arms brings a smile to my face. I open my bedroom door and step over the single board right in front of my door, which always creaks. I swear Emily made this my room just so that she would hear when I get up in the middle of the night.

I put Sergio down on my bed and take a quick look around my room. No T-3's. Where the hell did I put them? I kick my bedframe in frustration. Ouch! Fuck that hurt. I groan. Now I'm going to have to check the living room.I really don't want to get that close to Emily and Ashley before I've found them. I might be thinking clearly right now, but that won't last and at least the codeine in the T-3's make me dopy but I can still function. All right, living room it is. I don't bother to change out of Emily's pajamas. I want them to make a statement, but I'm not quite sure what that statement will be.

On one hand the living room is another dead end in my quest for medication, but on the other hand, I am in a decent position to listen to Emily and Ashley's conversation because they're sitting in the kitchen. I sigh in relief when I don't smell coffee. That means one of two things, either Emily said no or Ashley Seaver doesn't drink coffee, and in her line of work that seems unlikely. The team practically lives off coffee when I'm not around. In the beginning I felt bad. I don't anymore. Everyone was tired of me gagging and throwing up whenever I smelt it. Coffee was always one of those things that produces flashbacks. I have spent the past thirteen and a half years trying to avoid thinking of the monster and what happened as much as possible. I certainly don't need any additional reminders.

Emily sighs, "Do I have your permission to tell Catherine or do you want to do it?"

"I don't know Emily. Should she know? You only know because it was necessary to that case. What if she hates me for it?" Ashley's voice is low and laced with worry.

"I know that you don't know Catherine, but she doesn't exactly hate people," Emily sounds tired. Did I wake her up last night? I don't remember any nightmares, but I don't always remember them in the morning.

"I'm pretty sure she hated me last night." I frown, Ashley sounds upset.

Emily sighs again, "That was my fault. I didn't talk to either of you beforehand. I'm sorry Ashley."

Ashley ignores Emily's apology, "She acts like a little kid in one moment and in the next I look into her eyes and I feel like I'm the child Emily. How can she do that? Why does she do that?"

"Ashley…" I can just imagine Emily's face; she's probably frowning just like I am.

Ashley sighs, "I mean she was rude to me last night, and it was admittedly at least partially deserved, but she looked so scared when you touched her. I felt horrible for giving her flashbacks and then when she-"

"Ashley!" I am glad when Emily interrupts her.

"Yes Emily?" I can picture Ashley blinking at Emily, the way everyone does when Emily shouts his or her name.

Emily sighs. I really should be making life easier for her so that she doesn't always sigh so much when she has to discuss something that she doesn't want too. "Catherine is a special case. She-"

I'm not quite sure how to feel about wheat I overhear, so I decide to interrupt before it goes any further into uncharted territory. "Emmy?" I whisper from the entrance to the kitchen.

Emily turns around and smiles at me, "Yes Creirwy (kree-ree)?"

Ignoring Ashley completely, I bite my lip and say, "I can't find my T-3's."

Emily frowns, "Where did you last have them?"

I shrug and then wince as the motion pulls on my back.

Emily motions me into the kitchen.

I only make it halfway across the room before I have to stop, because I'm getting too close to where Ashley is leaning against the counter, tea mug in hand.

Emily crosses the rest of the room and places herself between Ashley and myself. She puts her hand on my forehead.

I finch slightly and curse internally.

Emily raises my chin and forces me to look at her, "You don't have a fever Creirwy (kree-ree), but your eyes are a bit glassy." She frowns, "Wie viel tut Ihrem Rücken weh?" How much does your back hurt?

I wonder if Emily is being nice or if she just doesn't want Ashley to know what she is asking me, because last night she was admonishing me for speaking in French and German. I glare at Emily, "Wie viel glauben Sie, dass es weh tut?" How much do you think it hurts?

Emily snickers.

I give her a dirty look.

Emily winces, "Ist es so schlimm?" Is it that bad?

I sigh and look away, "Ja." Yes.

Emily reaches up and tugs on a handful of my hair, "Es tut mir leid Creirwy (kree-ree)." I am sorry Creirwy. "Do you want me to look for the bottle for you?"

I nod, "Please?"

Emily sighs, "Okay, you stay here. I bought some more of your spicy orange tea. It's in with the rest your funny teas." She frowns, "The water should still be hot."

I smile faintly, "Thanks Emmy."

"I'll be back in a few minutes," she announces to the room and then ruffles my hair on her way past me, "Macht nichts." Don't worry.

I glare at her retreating form while trying to straighten my hair by shaking my head, raising my arms would hurt too much right now.

I walk over to the pantry and pull open the door before beginning the search for my tea. Emily likes to hide my bamboo box of teas on a different spot in her pantry every time I come over. She usually laughs while I try to find it; I miss that laughter right now. Aha! I've found it, bottom shelf at the back. Then I take a step towards Ashley who is standing in front of the teakettle. Ashley moves away from said kettle, I nod at her but refuse to say anything while I fill my mug. I add sugar and then exposing my back to Ashley, I walk across the room to the table.

Right before I sit down I hear Ashley take a step towards me.

I spin around and take a single step backwards, mug clenched in my hands. Please don't come any closer. I can't get my tongue to work. Where is Emily?

Ashley opens her mouth and takes another step forwards.

I take two steps towards the dining room on my right; there is a sound like rushing water filling my ears. Why isn't she stopping? She's supposed to be a profiler; can't she see that I don't want her near me?

Ashley tilts her head and regards me for a minute before taking another step forwards.

Her mouth is moving but I can't hear her, I can't breathe.

Ashley narrows her eyes and takes another step forwards.

My back hits the wall and a quiet whimper escapes my throat. The smash as I drop my teacup is the first thing I have heard in the last few minutes, it makes me jump.

Ashley's mouth is moving, she must be saying something to me.

I can't understand her, she sounds like she's under water. Another sound escapes my throat; it takes me a few seconds to identify it as a sob.

I am so far beyond grateful when Emily positions herself between Ashley and myself.

I rest my forehead on her back, grab a handful of the side of Emily's shirt and don't let go.

Emily reaches behind her and doesn't try to remove my hand, just squeezes it lightly.

"Emily?" asks Ashley, sounding puzzled.

I raise my head to get a look at Ashley when she speaks.

Emily frowns, "Ashley can you leave us alone for a few minutes please?"

Ashley looks like she's going to cry, "I didn't mean anything by it Emily. I wasn't trying to frighten her. I just wanted to ask Catherine a question. J'te jure!" I swear!

Emily sighs, "Alright, you stay here then." Emily attempts to pry my hand lose from her shirt, "Creirwy (kree-ree) go to your room."

I shake my head and hold on tighter.

Emily turns around slightly to face me, "Catherine sind Sie in Ordnung. Sie können jetzt loslassen. Ich wird Sie schützen Creirwy (kree-ree)." Catherine, you're fine. You can let go now. I will protect you Creirwy.

I shake my head again.

Emily sighs, "What if you were to hold onto my hand instead?"

I nod once.

Emily wraps her hand around my free one.

I unclench my fist, pull my hand free from Emily's and take off for my room.

Emily's question of 'What did you want to ask her?' follows me down the hall.

"I just wanted to know how she slept," answers Ashley, loud enough for her voice to carry.

My entire face is red I'm so embarrassed. I shut my bedroom door behind me, but I don't lock it. I curl up on my bed with my back to the door, and hold my pillow to my chest as tightly as I can without causing myself additional pain.

Emily knocks on my door, "May I come in liebling?"

I still can't make my tongue work so I don't answer.

Emily turns the handle and opens the door to my bedroom.

I know that Emily can't see my face but I smile when she steps on the creaky board.

Emily walks across my room and all to quickly she is kneeling on the floor in front of me.

I close my eyes so that I don't have to see her. I have to instantly wrench them open again when I see Emily kneeling in front of my last night when she found my scars. I start gagging.

Emily runs her fingers through my short hair, "Hey now. What's wrong Creirwy (kree-ree)?"

I flinch at the physical contact.

Emily continues running her fingers through my hair. She also continues talking, as if I hadn't flinched and had answered her question, "I brought your water bottle and I found your T-3's. You'll never guess where they were. I have no idea where you left them but Sergio stole them." She chuckles, "He was batting at something under the table in the hall. I bent down to take a look, I wanted to see what he had caught, and wonder of wonders, it was your missing pain killers."

I reach out one hand towards Emily.

Instead of giving me her hand, which is what I had been silently asking for, Emily places two white pills in the palm of my hand. "Shove over or sit up Creirwy (kree-ree)," whispers Emily, holding up my water bottle.

With a little bit of help I manage to sit up enough to swallow the T-3's.

Emily sits down next to me.

I shiver.

Emily covers me with the spare blanket from the end of my bed.

I curl into her side.

Emily runs her fingers through my hair and makes soothing noises.

When I finally manage to get my tongue working again I ask, "I don't have to trust her right?"

Emily sighs, "No you don't, but you trusted me right away. Why is this different?"

I wrap one arm around myself and throw the other over Emily's stomach, "No I didn't. The situation with Ashley is different because you were told the rules before you were allowed into Jen's apartment." I narrow my eyes, "I also didn't have a choice but to depend on you when Jenny left me home alone with you and I had a migraine."

"Catherine," sighs Emily in exasperation.

I frown, "Don't you Catherine me. I know that she will be family if she lasts Emily. Can't I wait and see, like I did with Dave?"

"Catherine, Ashley isn't Dave," Emily tugs gently on my hair to make her point.

I roll my eyes, "I know that Emily. Besides the obvious physical and gender differences, I liked Dave more in the first few hours. He made me uncomfortable but I had everyone else there to act as a buffer. You left me alone with her!"

Emily frowns, "Look I'm sorry for that okay? I didn't think she would approach you or that you would panic. You gave me one reason for not liking Ashley, what is the other?"

I glare at her, "I don't like that she's going to be working with you and Jen isn't."

Emily sighs, "You need to get over your dislike of Ashley Catherine."

"It's been all of nineteen days since Strauss suspended my sister and only twelve since she started working at the State Department. When exactly was I supposed to 'get over it' as you so aptly put it?" I snarl.

Emily roughly pulls my face up to meet hers, "You're twisting my words."

"I am not," I growl back. "You said that I have to get over my dislike of Ashley."

"I meant eventually," says Emily angrily.

"You never said eventually," I spit back.

Emily releases my chin, "Okay, we both need to breathe."

I open my mouth.

Emily interrupts me, "Two minutes of silence Catherine."

We sit in silence for two whole minutes, each of us trying to calm our tempers. When the two minutes are finally up Emily chuckles, "You do realize that even when we were fighting you still didn't let go of me right?"

I huff. Yes I had noticed.

Emily kisses the top of my head, "Are you going to let go of me now?"

I shake my head.

Emily laughs quietly and whispers, "You know I'm right don't you?"

"Yes," I mumble, "But don't ask me to like it."

"Catherine," Emily says hesitantly, "This is your home too so if you need me to, I won't have Ashley over to the condo again."

I sigh, "No, don't do that Emily." I roll my eyes, "This was your home first Emmy and

Ashley is your trainee agent; she's supposed to spend extra time with you. I will be fine if you're around and if I'm not, just give me a heads up next time you invite her over okay?"

Emily hugs me gently, "Thank you Creirwy (kree-ree). I can do that." She sighs, "Ashley wanted to talk to you before."

I hide my face in Emily's shoulder, "I know. I could see her mouth moving, but I couldn't hear what she was saying."

Emily runs her fingers through my hair, "We might need to explain a few things to Ashley if you agree to talk to her."

I frown, "I'll agree to talk to Ashley if you think it's a good idea, but I want to know what you think I need to tell her."

Emily sighs, "You need to give Ashley a reason as to why you don't trust her Creirwy (kree-ree)." Then Emily untangles herself from me before getting up and crossing my room to open the door. She steps out into the hallway, "Ashley, would you mind coming in here for a few minutes? Catherine has agreed to talk with you."

I glare at Emily's back but I don't protest.

Ashley enters my room. She looks nervous as she pulls my desk chair over to the end of my bed. Ashley sits down and turns slightly so that she is facing me.

Emily sits down on my bed and pulls me into her lap.

I stiffen at the contact. I place a pillow between my back and Emily's chest.

Emily laughs quietly and Ashley smiles.

I shiver slightly, Ashley's blue eyes are following my every minute move and she is starting to look worried. I guess she might make decent profiler after all.

Emily wraps one arm around me and splays her fingers against my stomach.

I make a small sound of protest in the back of my throat.

Emily humms soothingly and offers me her other wrist.

My fingers immediately seek out her pulse point. I hate looking weak in front of Ashley but I need the reassurance more.

"Creirwy (kree-ree)," Emily says quietly, "Seaver isn't Ashley's original last name. It was Beauchamp. Ashley's Father is Charles Beauchamp."

I shudder at the first name before frowning in confusion, "Is that name supposed to mean something to me?"

"The Redmond Ripper," whispers Ashley.

I roll my eyes, "Nope, still nothing."

Ashley tries again, "We lived in North Dakota…"

I frown, "I'm having this strange idea that you're both trying to tell me that Ashley's father was a serial killer."

Silence.

Huh. I raise an eyebrow, "You are, aren't you?"

"Yes," says Emily quietly.

Ashley won't look at me.

I purse my lips, "You know what? I don't really care. It's the whole nature versus nurture thing right? So your dad was a serial killer, your mom obviously wasn't. So what? Even if being a serial killer were a genetically inherited trait of the dominant type, you would still have a fifty-fifty chance of not being one. Besides, you joined the FBI and then the BAU, you had to pass the psychological evaluations right?"

Ashley frowns, "Yes I have had to do various psych-eval's over the course of several months."

"Ashley," I say calmly.

She turns her head to look at me.

I frown, "What exactly is the problem? You didn't kill those people, your father did."

Ashley interrupts me, "But-"

I cut her off, "That isn't the reason I don't trust you Ashley." I sigh, "I don't trust you because I don't know you. I don't know your motivation or exactly what you desire." I shrug, "I'll figure it out eventually. I always do. It would be easier if you just told me, but you aren't likely to do that now are you?"

"No…" she trails off.

I frown, "I suppose you deserve some clarity for your truthfulness." I steele myself internally, "I took a rather nasty beating recently. I-"

"You were tortured Catherine. If you're actually going to talk about what happened at least get it right," Emily snorts, both in disbelief and in obvious displeasure at the way I phrased my previous sentance.

I turn my head to glare at her for a moment before turning back to face Ashley, "It has kind of destroyed my ability to trust anyone new. Give me time okay? I can't say that we'll be friends or like sisters, just don't push me and we'll be fine."

"Creirwy (kree-ree)," says Emily warily.

I pat her hand with my free one, "Hush Emmy. This is between Ashley and me. We're making nice, you don't want to destroy that right?"

Emily smiles against the back of my head.

I turn back to Ashley, "Promise me that you will stay away from me unless Emily is around or unless I personally seek you out and we will have a decent chance."

"I can do that," says Ashley confidently.

I raise an eyebrow, that wasn't a promise.

Ashley smiles happily at me, "I promise you Catherine. J'te jure."

I smile back at her.

Life isn't as magical here,

and you're not the only one who feels like you don't belong,

or that it's better somewhere else.

But there ARE things worth living for.

And the best part is you never know what's going to happen next.

- O.R. Melling, The Summer King

AN2: So what did you think of the story?

AN3: First chapter of my newest story 147 Days has also been posted today. It takes place in my Black Cat AU right after Emily Prentiss dies at Ian Doyle's hand.