A/N: Wow, you guys are the best! To all of you who don't want this fic to end, I'm so sorry! But thank you for saying that this fic (or some of my others) are some of your favorites. That means the world to me and I love each of you so much. This fic has been a labor of love and I wouldn't continue writing unless you guys were supporting me. Even though this fic will end soon, this won't be the end of me or my Jemily writing. There might be a break, but it will not be the end. I'm still in awe that some of you like them :)

Chapter 32

It would have been just like one of our normal cases. Women were being kidnapped in Baltimore. Most days, I could see the bodies, handle the facts, and kick ass without even blinking. This time, I spent most of the three days that we spent in the city before catching the UnSub, flinching.

Everyone kept watching me. Once again, it was like they were waiting for me to fall apart (like I would ever do that in front of them).

It wasn't like I couldn't handle the work. I didn't even argue with Hotch when he told me to stay at the precinct. I spent most of the time with Reid, and I had a new appreciation for what he did. Kicking down doors and firing at UnSubs was like child's play compared to geographical profiling.

I was the one, however, to break the case wide open. When everyone went to sleep, I spent the few hours going over the little details I wouldn't have even spent a few minutes thinking about if I didn't have the extra time. Because of my insomnia, I was able to discover the fact that the UnSub enjoyed driving recovering addicts back to their drug of choice before killing them. Fucked up on so many levels.

It wasn't like the case triggered me at all. I wasn't having flashbacks to my time at the ranch. When I saw pictures of the bloody bed, I didn't imagine myself in the chains. Shivers didn't run up my back when I heard a recording of one of the women yelling. I didn't throw up in the bathroom after I saw the dead body. I didn't have PTSD. I wasn't traumatized. I was the same as I always had been. At least, of course, that was what I kept telling myself. The lies were piling up. There were so many of them, I felt like I was back in the undercover days when I had to be this whole separate identity. When I had to shove Emily's morals and beliefs away so that I could do the job well.

I was hoping that when Morgan sat down next to me that he wouldn't feel the need to talk to me. Usually, after a case, he listened to his music, read a book, or fell asleep. This time, he felt the need to have a conversation.

"You know," He told me, his voice quiet so that no one else could hear. "When we have cases where the UnSub is sexually assaulting minors, I have flashbacks. I don't tell anyone because I don't want anyone to know that I'm struggling. But at the same time, I'm more driven to solve the case. Because I have a certain… insight."

He shared because he wanted me to share with him as well. I sighed, knowing that if I didn't tell him something that he would feel sad and that I would feel guilty.

"I don't trust men," I admitted carefully, not wanting to tell him too much. "Of course I trust you and the others in the team, but I've had so much experience with men who had… done so many bad things."

He nodded as if he could possibly understand. He only knew about my father. Which was only a small fraction of my story.

"I know it's hard for everyone to know you're secret. The one thing that you had tried to keep secret, maybe from everyone. But sometimes it's easier. Like I can share the burden with others. It isn't as heavy as it used to be."

I frowned, realizing something unfortunate. "I'm sorry," I apologized. "I should have- when we arrested Buford- I should've talked to you. Told you about what happened to me. Maybe you wouldn't have felt so alone."

He shrugged as if I hadn't hurt him. "It's okay. I understand the need for things to stay private. If it happened the other way around… I'm not sure I would have told you either. It's just how it is. It's hard to talk about."

"My father's dead," I said, the coldness entering my voice. "I haven't thought about what he had done in such a long time. I didn't need to. He... he couldn't hurt me any longer."

He nodded as if he understood. "I wish… I wish that we had met each other as kids. I think I really could have used you as a friend. You're my partner, Princess. And I know that I'm always a skeptic, but I should have had your back. I should've-"

"No, Derek," I told him, shaking my head desperately. I didn't want him to feel bad. That was the last thing that I wanted. "You did what you thought was right. And that's the best that you could do. I, in no way whatsoever, blame you or the team for what happened in LA. It probably would have happened no matter what, with Sa- her- as the UnSub."

"Em?" JJ interrupted, causing both me and Morgan to turn around and look at her. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but we are about to land. Can I talk to you for a second?"

Before giving me a chance to answer, Morgan got up so that she could sit down. I inwardly groaned. I didn't want to have another conversation with her after what happened last time. With the kiss and all.

"When we land," JJ said anxiously. "We are going to go on a commercial plane and we are going to fly to LA."

I gaped at her, not knowing how to really reply to that. "What…?"

"I know that I should have asked first. But I thought that if I did, you were going to say no. So I just bought two tickets. And I hoped that you would go on the plane with me and I don't waste this money."

"Why would we fly to LA?"

She smiled sympathetically and answered, "I'm going to take you to Sasha's funeral. They delayed it this long because they wouldn't release her body. I didn't even know if they were going to have a funeral. But Pen helped me find out."

I didn't know what to say. I was angry that she made a decision for me. But also, part of me was grateful that she made a decision for me. I wanted to say no. But I didn't want to cause her more dysfunction.

I didn't say anything. I only nodded. And luckily, that was good enough for her.

I had never seen a smaller attendance at a funeral. The only people in the chapel, other than JJ and I, were Sasha's mother, Nicky Delmonico, and a few young women that I guessed were at the ranch and weren't prosecuted for the murders.

My body clung to JJ's side as if she was keeping me afloat, keeping me from drowning. Sasha's mother was weeping as the priest spoke about her daughter. They were general comments, nothing personal. After the short speech was over, he asked if anyone wanted to speak about her. I thought I didn't want to. But my body disagreed.

I got up and walked to the podium. Delmonico looked startled by the fact that I was there. And Sasha's mother- she only cried harder.

After clearing my throat, I croaked, "I don't want to talk about Sasha in recent years or what led to her death. Because that isn't the Sasha I loved. The Sasha I loved, she cared about every type of life and she preached equality and peace. The Sasha I loved held my hand when I was scared and whispered things into my ear that made me feel warm. She was a source of undeniable and irrefutable kindness, like a ray of sunshine. She was, and excuse me for the cliche, the light to my dark. She taught me how to love and how to let myself be loved. Today reminds me of the first time I met her all those years ago…"

I tapped my pencil as the professor spoke about dearest Sigmund Freud. I didn't listen to a word coming out of his mouth. None of this was new anyway. Besides, my attention was now solely focused on my hand that was aching in the cast.

"Hey," A voice called from next to me. I hesitated to turn to look at whoever was speaking to me. Recently, the people that decided to speak to me weren't saying the nicest things. Not that it was new, or anything. "Prentiss, right?"

The girl was smiling, definitely different than most of the reactions I got from my fellow classmates.

"Yeah," I muttered, not knowing if this was a trick. I stared at her for a few seconds, eventually recognizing her. The girl with the enchanting smile and dazzling eyes, she was the one person hated more at this school than myself. "Er- Tyburczy, right?"

She grinned and held out her hand. "Sasha. And let me just say, what you did was incredible. And it's totally fucked up that they gave you a slap on the wrist. We both know that it was Carter Hughes that deserved the punishment. But daddy gives a lot to the school."

I raised my eyebrows at her. She was the most outspoken about how horrific the fraternities were at Yale.

"I shouldn't have punched him," I said, turning back to the professor, who went on and on about Freud being a genius. What a dick.

"What'd he do?" She asked, not getting the hint that I didn't want to talk to her any longer.

"What do you mean?" I whispered, surprised that she wanted to keep talking to me.

She rolled her eyes like I was the one being oblivious. "You aren't stupid, or outwardly aggressive. So there must be a reason for you to have beat up Hughes."

I stared at her, in awe of her thoughtful observations. Shivering almost before replying, I confessed, "He groped me."

Her face hardened, like what I said personally offended her. "I'm glad you put him in a hospital. Because if you didn't, I certainly would have. I know you probably aren't looking for becoming friends with the most hated person at school, but there's something about you. And I really, really, just want to get to know you. Is that weird? I'm being weird, aren't I?"

I smirked, entertained by her getting flustered. Red rose up in my cheeks for the first time in years.

"Definitely weird," I agreed with her. "But I like weird."

She grinned and laughed. "Good. So, wanna get out of here? If I hear the words 'Oedipus Complex' one more time I think I might just go crazy."

I considered my options. Staying and listening to utter shit or maybe having fun with someone who seemed to genuinely want to know me.

Honestly smiling, I told her, "Let's get the hell out of here."

I smiled thinking about it, tears running down my cheeks. "Even in our first conversation, she brought out my happiness that I thought I had lost forever. With her words, she held me close and refused to let go. That was who Sasha was. And that is who I will miss."

I choked out a short sob. I put my hands to my face, trying to cover the grotesque features my face contorted into when I cried. I felt hands wrap around me. I turned and pressed my head into the curve of her shoulder. I let her hold me.

"Emily," a voice whispered. A wiped my tears and JJ loosened her grip. I saw Sasha's mother in front of me. "I'm s- Thank you. This would have meant the world to my daughter. I'm so glad that t-this is how you will remember her. You… I know how much you meant to her. I hope you find some peace in this. She'd want you to be happy."

And with that, everything was over. The service lasted barely an hour. And when we left the church, it felt like everything was different.

JJ POV

Emily was quiet after the funeral. But surprisingly, I was less worried about her. It was like she was thinking incredibly hard rather than going through dark thoughts.

Once we made it to the hotel room, she laid down on the bed and stared up at the wall.

"I need help," She whispered as tears fell out of her eyes. "I'm breaking in so many ways. And all I want to do is drink and smoke and forget everything. But I can't. Because every time I close my eyes I see her. I see what I turned her into. I see all the memories that came back when she drugged me."

I bit my lip, trying to hold in my own tears. I didn't want to say anything. I just laid down next to her and held her close to me. I wanted her to know that I was there. That I was willing to pick up her pieces and put her back together.

"When I was a teenager, I tried to kill myself," She admitted. "I haven't tried since, but that hopelessness, it's what I have been feeling. And I don't want to die. I just want it all to go away. But thinking about her today… what she was like before all of this, I realized that she would have reminded me that pushing away the pain doesn't get rid of it. She used to always say that moving through the pain and surviving and living was what defeats the darkness. So I'm going to stop drinking and wallowing in these dark thoughts. And I'm going to go to a therapist. And I'm going to get better so that Sasha's death won't be for nothing."

I was astounded by the declaration and confession. All I felt was a sense of hope. Hope that she could get better. Hope that she wanted to get better.

I squeezed her tighter and told her, "I am so proud of you."

And that's how we stayed throughout the night. In each other's arms.

Only one more chapter and then the epilogue! Yay! Things are ending! Emily's getting better!

I do have to say one thing. I know a lot of you weren't Sasha fans (obviously, she put Em in a lot of pain) but I wanted this chapter to remind you all how genuinely good she was when they were in college. And this is a reason why Em is beating herself up. She blames herself for what happened to Sasha.

Once again, I want to say thank you. To all of you. My readers who have read this story for the first time and like it, my readers who re-read this story, and my readers who read all my stuff. Thank you. You all mean the world to me. I really hope you enjoy my stories. I know they are dark and depressing, but I hope to give you some hope.

Please, let me know what you think. I love reading your comments! They make what I do worth it!