A/N: I don't own Criminal Minds!

Chapter 9

Emily POV

I didn't know what to expect when meeting a member of the Manson Family. Being a profiler, of course, I had been interested in the Manson Family. It was probably the most notorious cult that I had to learn about. I read Helter Skelter, I studied the trial, I learned about the drugs and the sex and how hundreds of people were manipulated by a small man. I didn't know much about Sandra Good other than the fact that her good friend was Lynette "Squeaky" Fromme, one of the only women who still supported Charles Manson.

Sandra Good looked like any normal older woman. She wasn't dressed up. Her hair was down, her clothes were loose on her body, and she looked normal. She could have looked like a grandmother. Not what I would have thought a devoted follower to Manson would look like.

"You're intrigued, aren't you?" Sasha whispered as we watched the woman pick at a sandwich in the adjacent interrogation room. "I can read it all over your face."

I couldn't deny my interest. "I've always wanted to meet members, you know that. It wasn't just you that was interested in them."

She seemed like she was glad that I was so fascinated. "Want to talk to her with me? I'll still take the lead, of course."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "You sure you want me to? If you both already have a bond, I don't want to get in your way. I don't want her to lose her trust in you..."

"She trusts me, Em. You have nothing to worry about. If I had any doubts, you know I wouldn't ask."

I nodded knowing that she was right. Sasha was always diligent.

"Come on," Sasha said with an enticing smile. "Let's do this."

I followed her out of the room and into the interrogation room. Sandra looked up and saw Sasha. She smiled. But then she saw me and frowned.

"Sandra," Sasha said as she sat down. "This is my dear friend Emily Prentiss. Can she sit with us?"

Sandra's face lit up at the sound of my name. "The Emily Prentiss?"

I raised my eyebrows. I had no idea how she knew my name. I turned to Sasha, looking for answers.

She chuckled lightly. "Sorry, Em. I have told Sandra about our… relationship."

"I told her to go find you, you know," Sandra said as if she thought that she was wise. "Come and sit with us, Emily. We have a lot to talk about. After, of course, you have to tell me if you two are back together yet."

I shook my head. "No, Sandra. I came here to help Sasha with a case."

Sandra replied, "I have no doubts that you will get back together though."

"Sandra," Sasha said loudly enough to grab the woman's attention. "Where have you been the last couple of weeks when I have been trying to reach you?"

The devoted Manson follower quickly looked down, as if she were afraid or scared. "I've been in Mexico."

Sasha and I looked at each other. Running away to Mexico was not easy. There must have been a good reason for it.

"Why did you go to Mexico?"

The older woman sighed. "The morning after me and Squeaky came to your place for dinner, I went to go find her. She wasn't in her apartment. I had a key, so I went inside. I went to her bedroom. On her dresser was her bracelet. She wears it everywhere. She wouldn't ever forget to put it on. That's when I knew she was taken. That's why I left."

I found her story to be lacking. One bracelet didn't mean much. "What's so special about the bracelet?"

Sandra's eyes flickered up to look straight into mine. "Charlie gave her that bracelet. It was a token of their love."

And with that, I understood completely. Lynette Fromme wouldn't go anywhere without her symbol of love for Manson. She wasn't capable of it.

I nodded, letting Sandra and Sasha know that I understood.

"So then why are you here now?" I asked her.

"Well, even in Mexico, I didn't feel safe. I'm afraid that they could get anywhere. So I came here. I figured they wouldn't dare come to the police department."

I thought that she made the right move. If this new Family was murdering (and if they are smarter than the original Family), they wouldn't come to the precinct. They would just be incriminating themselves.

"You made the right decision, Sandy. We will keep you safe here. Have you gotten any more threats in the past two weeks?" Sasha asked her.

Sandra shook her head. "Most of my threats were by a phone call and by mail. I didn't have a phone or an address in Mexico. So I didn't get any threats recently."

"Sandra, did Squeaky or any of the others think about killing the snitches or their family?" Sasha interrogated.

The woman raised her eyebrows and I could see her eyes become darker. "Of course, long ago, we made those threats…" she said very nonchalantly. "But we didn't come up with any specific plans."

"But," I argued. "You all did commit murder after the Tate-LaBianca killings. Hughes, your attempt to murder Barbara Hoyt, other members…"

"Squeaky and I, we've changed." Sandra snapped in a commanding tone. It reminded me of the trial. How cute, innocent looking girls could get so violent and malicious in a split second.

"And yet you are still devoted to Manson!" I argued, getting just as loud as she was.

I could feel Sasha tensing up beside me. I knew she wanted me to stop, but this was how I interrogated. This was what was necessary.

"Manson is about love, not killing."

I held in an eye roll. Of course, she would think that. "And yet how many people died under his command? 9? 11? 35? 40? One hundred? More? How many have you been a part of?"

Tears rose up in the woman's eyes. "I never— that wasn't what I wanted. I came for the love!"

"And you stayed for the murder!" I shouted back, getting pissed off. "You loved Manson. How can I really trust that you aren't lying and that you love this new Manson, huh? Trying to figure out what we know to report to the new Jesus Christ?"

I startled her. That was obvious. Her eyes became wide as if I was scaring her. She was just where I wanted her. But then…

"Em, shut up," Sasha snarled before putting her hand on Sandra's. "Emily doesn't mean it, Sandy. She doesn't know. She hasn't had dinner with you guys every Thursday as I have. She's trying her best like we all are. Have you been in touch with any of the others? Mary Brunner? Gypsy? Haven't seen her in a while."

Sandra shrugged. "Haven't talked with Mary in years. Gypsy hasn't called me in weeks. But I wasn't worried about that. Until Squeaky." She let out a small sob. I didn't know if I believed her yet.

"Sandra," I began, lowering my voice so I could be perceived as being calm. "Do you have any of those letters or recordings of any messages that this group sent you?"

She shook her head. "Squeaky told me to burn them. She said that having evidence like that could be incriminating. Those prosecutors always want to put innocent people behind bars."

I had to hide an eye roll. Of course, the guilty woman thought that the prosecution was evil. I wasn't sure if she was telling the truth or not. Either way, I didn't believe in Squeaky. She was always a fan of Manson. Even after all of these years.

"We will keep you protected, Sandy. We will stop by to make sure you are treated well here. We won't let anything happen to you." Sasha let go of her shaking hands and got up. I raised my eyebrows... interview over, apparently.

I followed Sasha out of the room. Sasha grabbed my hand and took me into the empty interrogation room next door.

"What the fuck Emily? Is that how you treat all witnesses?" Sasha asked, her face becoming red with anger.

I gaped at her. "Me? I'm the problem? Sasha, she could be playing you. I just interrogated her like any other suspect. I know you have had this relationship with her for years, Sash. But I'm an FBI agent. This is how we do things. This is just a tactic-"

"Well, aren't we glad that you aren't still in the CIA where you'd be torturing her by now," Sasha snapped, pushing a chair across the room.

I stared at her. Her tone reminded me of our last fight. It sounded a lot like this one.

"DC? Em, that's so far away. I thought we were both going to go to the Police Academy so we could be detectives. I thought we were going to do this together."

She was yelling. I was yelling. We were yelling. Sasha and I rarely fought. But when we did, it was nasty. Cruel. Especially when my demons came to town. The devil and I had a good relationship when Sasha was mad at me. Sweet, sweet alcohol and I were tight.

I took another sip of liquor. I tried to ignore her. I knew that I was hurting her. That was my goal, of course. She shouldn't have to live with me.

"Fucking say something, Em! Don't give up on me! Don't give up on this! We have worked so hard to be in this happy place! And you're giving it up for what? A job?"

My dark eyes flickered and stared into hers. "What if I don't want this anymore?"

I watched as tears filled her eyes. I watched as her heart broke. And all I did was continue to drink. "You don't honestly mean that, Emmy. Stop drinking and just talk to me! I know you have had a hard time since your dad died. But that doesn't mean you have the right to give up on the life that we created."

"Don't talk about my father-"

"He was not a good father to you! He did things to you that you try to repress today. At the very least, he watched your mother ridicule you and he did nothing about it. He didn't even blink when you became depressed! He didn't visit you in the hospital after you tried to end your life. He wasn't a good man! But you are nothing like him! He's an alcoholic, but you don't have to be."

I took a breath, knowing that the words that were going to leave my mouth were going to end everything. "What the hell do you know about fathers? Yours left you so that he could start a race war with a bunch of hippies."

Tears fell down her cheeks now. She got up off from the chair across from me and put on her jacket. "I love you, Emily. After everything, I still love you. But you're so goddamn fucked up that you can't let me love you. So I guess it's over. You got what you wanted."

She walked to the door of our apartment. She opened the door. I felt something hit my chest and bounce off. I looked down and saw the ring on the carpet. I looked up at Sasha who was still staring at me.

"I just want to know one thing. If you didn't want us anymore, why did you ask me to marry you?"

I didn't know how to reply to that. I couldn't be honest. And I couldn't lie. So instead I just shrugged like the asshole I am.

"Fuck you, Emily."

I cleared my throat. I didn't want to make the same mistakes. I didn't want to leave with her hating me again. "I'm sorry, Sash. You're right. I took over in there. This is your case. She's your informant. I overstepped my boundaries."

I thought she was going to yell at me some more, but instead, she took a deep breath and sighed. "No, I'm sorry. You aren't used to doing this. I shouldn't have yelled like that." She checked her watch. "It's late. You wanna pick up some take out and then go back to my place?"

I nodded. Something still didn't feel right about Sandra Good. But there was nothing I could do about it at the moment.

Wow. That flashback was crazy. But hopefully, it shows more complexity with their relationship! Don't worry! More Jemily in the next chapter!