A/N: This first chapter is the prologue and is set in the past right after Ian Doyle was arrested by Interpol. After this, it will be set during the general timeline of Season 14, but will not follow the season exactly and will include cases we didn't see in the show. This is Emily-centric, but will focus on the team as a family, as well as Emily building her own family outside of the team. I love Emily's relationship with Rossi, JJ, and Reid so you can expect to see a fair amount of them bonding. I like Hotch / Prentiss and there will be some elements of that, but this isn't really a romance and anything that happens between them will take a while to happen. Hotch still left the team in this, but will be part of the story. Just let me know if you have any questions. Thanks for reading!

Prologue

Emily's fist clenched tightly around the white plastic stick in the palm of her left hand. She closed her eyes and exhaled. If she were being honest with herself, she'd known what the result would be before two lines appeared on the store-bought pregnancy test.

She was pregnant.

She'd been queasy for – how long had it been now? It had been weeks at least…maybe even a month? At first she chalked it up to stress and anxiety. They were about to take Ian Doyle down based on the information she provided. Some of the information could only have come from her. If anything went wrong – if Doyle got away – he would know who was to blame. In the time she'd been undercover, Emily had seen firsthand what Ian Doyle did to anyone he considered a traitor. It was no wonder she was on edge in the weeks leading up to his arrest. But Emily Prentiss had never been physically ill from the stress of the job before. She should have immediately recognized the almost constant nausea for what it was – morning sickness that wasn't restricted to the morning, unfortunately.

It wasn't until the cravings started that Emily had to admit to herself there was a good chance she was pregnant. Emily had been craving apple juice. Apple juice, of all things. She hadn't had apple juice since…well, not since she was fifteen and pregnant. It was a drink typically reserved for children. Fortunately for her, the refrigerator in Ian's kitchen was stocked with juice boxes for his son.

Emily waited until after Doyle was taken in before she even thought about taking a pregnancy test. Ian couldn't know about this. He could never know.

He had actually asked her to raise his son to be like him. The irony of a dangerous criminal asking a government agent to do that wasn't lost on Emily. Of course, she refused. The sweet little boy was innocent and had remained untainted by his father's world so far. But Emily wasn't naïve – she didn't expect that innocence to last…not with how Doyle wanted to raise the boy.

Emily sighed sadly. She wanted to save Declan from that fate, but she hadn't saved him…not really. Now he was just in a different kind of danger.

They needed something – anything – that would break Ian Doyle. And Emily knew of only one thing that would do that…Ian's son. There would be no greater torture for the man than knowing his child was suffering and being powerless to stop it. That type of emotional and mental torture would be far worse than any physical torture.

Emily Prentiss left the boy out of her reports completely, but the taskforce had surveillance photographs of the little boy playing in the garden at Doyle's house in Italy. Emily knew the story that Declan was the housekeeper's son wouldn't hold up if they dug into it. If – no, when - they found out who Declan was, Emily was afraid they would see the son as collateral damage in the war against the father. They were desperate and would only get more desperate the longer Ian refused to give them anything. They would stop at nothing to get Ian to talk.

Emily's eyes flew open and she sucked in her breath, her gaze dropping to her stomach. The…baby – her baby - would be in every bit as much danger as Declan because of who their father was. And there would be no denying Ian was the father, not when the baby was conceived while she was undercover. It would have been kind of hard for her to have a boyfriend or even a one-night-stand when she was living in Ian's house in Italy. No, when - if - Emily Prentiss had a kid, everyone who knew about the work the taskforce was doing would be able to do the math and figure out exactly who the baby's father was.

"What am I gonna do?" Emily despaired as the reality of her current situation hit her like a sucker punch.

When she thought of every agency involved and some of the corrupt governments that wanted to get their hands on the international criminal, Emily felt sick with worry and fear. Fighting a sudden wave of dizziness and nausea, she sat down on the tile floor with her back against the bathtub and drew her knees to her chest.

She trusted the taskforce - to a certain extent. Emily Prentiss didn't trust anyone completely. But she did trust Clyde and Tsia as much as she ever really trusted anyone. It was everyone else she was worried about.

Would the powers that be really use her unborn child as a method of torture for Doyle? Emily wouldn't put it past them. She was under no delusion that she was untouchable simply because of who she was and what her job was. It didn't preclude her – or this baby – from being used as a pawn in a political chess match. Emily hated politics, but she had learned how to navigate political minefields at her mother's knee.

Emily doubted she'd get much help, if any, from the Agency. They wouldn't take too kindly to one of their own having a kid with a known criminal. She laughed bitterly, knowing it wouldn't matter that she was just doing her job. She would be branded as the undercover agent who got knocked up by her target.

What had they expected when they sent an agent who was Doyle's type in to get close to him? She knew they hadn't expected this. This wasn't part of the plan. Emily dragged the palm of her right hand down her face wearily. It wasn't like it was part of her plan either. She was on the pill, but grudgingly acknowledged that she must have missed one. She traveled with Doyle all the time. He was an international arms dealer and so was Lauren Reynolds. Travel time and time changes could have thrown her schedule off. She groaned, mentally cursing herself.

She stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, her eyes narrowing critically on her stomach. It didn't look like she'd gained any weight at all. She wondered how long she could keep the pregnancy under wraps. However long, Emily wouldn't have a whole lot of time to come up with some kind of a plan.


"Okay, that's enough," Emily said, setting the camera aside. She looked at the little boy sprawled on the ground. "You did great."

The boy didn't move a muscle.

Emily raised her eyebrows. "You can get up now."

He was usually a ball of energy, unable to sit still for even five minutes, but the boy still didn't move, never so much as blinking.

"What, did you fall asleep?" Emily muttered to herself, not expecting a response from the boy. "Declan? Hey, Declan?" She squatted down next to him. She barely touched his shoulder and he sprang to life, shooting up in a sudden movement that made her tense automatically as her training and instincts kicked in.

"Did I scare you?" Declan asked, grinning crookedly.

It was an old game. The little boy took great pleasure in finding hiding spots in the house in Italy and jumping out to scare the other inhabitants of the house or sneaking up on them from behind – as much as a child could possibly sneak up on a criminal and an intelligence operative. Emily knew it was normal behavior for a rambunctious little boy, but really Declan was lucky that between her and Ian, no one had ever startled and reacted badly purely on instinct.

"I don't scare that easy," Emily said, tickling his ribs in retaliation.

Declan shrieked in laughter, squirming away from her. "You didn't think I was dead?" He gasped.

"No. Sorry."

Declan took his failed attempt to scare her in stride. "It's just because I look pretty good for a dead kid," he said, looking up at her with a cocky grin.

"Yeah, you do," Emily agreed with a laugh. She shook her head at the little boy's antics and turned to face Louise, offering the other woman a smile that was half-apologetic, half-amused. "You might want to do something about that before you take him out in public," she said, referring to the make up and fake blood they'd used to make Declan appear fatally wounded in photographs. "As good as he looks, we don't want him scaring anyone else."

The pictures of Declan with a gun held to his head execution-style and then lying on the ground bleeding from a head wound were just the first part of Emily's plan. It had taken a week and a half for it all to come together.

Emily hadn't particularly liked holding a gun to the little boy's head, but he never even flinched. He knew he was never in any danger, at least not when she was the one holding the gun. Emily didn't know what she'd done to inspire so much trust. She just hoped his trust in her wasn't misplaced.

As soon as Declan was safely out of town, Emily Prentiss would give the staged pictures along with her letter of resignation, to Clyde. She didn't like the idea of making a father believe his son was dead. It was cold and cruel, but it was the only thing she could think of to ensure the little boy's safety. No one would bother looking for a dead kid, not Doyle's enemies and not Doyle – or rather anyone still working for Doyle.

Emily's expression turned serious, any trace of her earlier amusement gone. She made eye contact with Louise. "You have everything you need?"

"I have it right here," the other woman said, clutching the envelope Emily had given her with a forged passport and money.

Louise had no qualms about going along with Emily's plan to protect the boy. The housekeeper had practically raised Declan and was the closest thing the boy had to a mother. Emily was confident the other woman would take good care of the little boy.

"And you know how to get in touch with me if there are any problems?" Emily asked her.

Louise rattled off the phone number Emily had given her from memory in response.

"Okay, then I should go. Declan, honey? I have to go now. Can I have a hug goodbye?"

Emily braced herself for impact as the little boy barreled into her, throwing his arms around her legs. She smiled down at the top of the boy's head sadly and brushed a hand through his mop of blonde curls, careful not to get any of the red sticky substance on his forehead in his hair. She found herself wondering idly if her baby would have blonde hair like its brother or dark hair like her, but quickly dismissed it as a ridiculous question when she hadn't even decided whether she was going to keep the baby - that was the one part of her plan she hadn't quite worked out. She didn't know if she could protect her child and she needed to know the baby would be safe before she could even think about keeping it.

Emily was surprised by the surge of protective love she already felt for her unborn baby - just an embryo now, not a real, live child like the boy in front of her. It wasn't surprising that she felt protective of Declan. She'd been able to act more like herself when she was playing with the son than ever could when she was with the father. She always had to be 'on' with Ian Doyle. She had to be Lauren Reynolds twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. If she made one wrong move or said the wrong thing, it would be a fatal mistake. The only time she didn't have to act and think like an arms dealer was when she was spending time with Declan. She likened it to finding a kid who spoke English when she was the new kid in a country where she hadn't learned the language yet - it gave her a break from thinking before every word she spoke. Emily Prentiss definitely had a soft spot in her heart for Ian's son.

Emily pulled back from the little boy reluctantly and nudged him gently toward Louise. She met the other woman's gaze and held it. "Take care of him."


Her resignation was the next part of her plan. Emily knew it would be better for everyone involved if there was no record of this pregnancy in Emily Prentiss' medical records or personnel records.

Emily had a brand new passport and ID courtesy of the same forger she procured Louise's passport from. Whatever she decided to do, it would be under an assumed name.

Now, she just needed Clyde Easter to let her go, something that would be easier said than done. Emily stood across from him in his office, trying not to look nervous, as he read her letter of resignation.

Clyde glanced at her. "You're leaving me for the FBI, aren't you? That Agent Hotchner you're always going on about?"

"Oh, I do not go on about Hotchner," Emily protested, her cheeks coloring with embarrassment and indignation. She had mentioned that she wanted to be a profiler with the FBI's BAU and that Aaron Hotchner was in charge of their 'A-team,' but that was it. She was regretting ever sharing her career goals with the team lead in that moment.

"You're awfully defensive, Prentiss," Clyde said, smirking slightly.

Emily rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me you're jealous, Clyde."

"You are leaving me for another man," Clyde said, feigning hurt.

"Stop it," Emily said, laughing at his dramatics. "I'm not going to the FBI. Not yet anyway. I'm taking some time for myself."

Clyde looked surprised. "If it's time you want, all you had to do is ask."

"Thank you, but I'm not talking about a week's vacation here," Emily said, shaking her head. She might be talking about nine months…maybe more, maybe less.

Clyde locked eyes with her. "How long?"

"I don't know. I've been under for two years. Two years, Clyde. I just – I need some time," Emily explained, trying to stick to the truth as much as possible. Clyde Easter was no slouch when it came to profiling. He would know if she told him an outright lie.

Clyde hesitated slightly, trying to decide whether or not to say what was on his mind. "Time to get over Doyle?"

Emily stiffened, straightening her spine. Her expression hardened into a glacial stare. "What are you implying?"

Clyde looked at her wearily. "You didn't tell us about the boy until now, Emily."

"He's just a child," Emily said unapologetically. He'd had none of the same misgivings she had about using the photographs of Declan to break Doyle. She couldn't help but wonder if the man would have handed over the actual child as easily as he'd handed over the pictures. She would not apologize for protecting Ian's son. She glared heatedly at Clyde with fire in her eyes that practically dared him to argue.

"Ian Doyle's child," Clyde muttered gruffly. He couldn't help but wonder if she left that little detail out solely to protect the boy or if some misguided part of her was trying to protect the boy's father. Either way, he didn't like one of his agents leaving vital information out of her reports. "I wouldn't expect a thank you from Doyle if I were you."

"And here I thought he'd send flowers from prison," Emily said flippantly, not missing a beat.

"He'd sooner put a bullet through your head," Clyde said grimly.

"It's a good thing Lauren Reynolds is already dead then," Emily retorted, trying to appear unaffected by the idea of Ian killing her when in reality it was deeply unsettling.

Clyde raised his eyebrows, focusing on what she hadn't said. "And a good thing the bastard's in prison." His eyes drilled into hers as he waited expectantly for her to agree.

Emily's poker face faltered for a fraction of a second, but Clyde saw it. She had mixed feelings about sending Doyle to prison. She knew better than anyone what he was capable of, but he was also capable of love and she'd seen that side of him far more than she'd seen the ruthless killer over the course of the last two years. She felt something for him – something more than a government agent should feel for an international criminal – but she didn't know if she would call it love. She didn't know what she'd call it, just that her feelings for Ian scared her.

Clyde's eyes widened slightly at her inability to maintain her legendary poker face, a mistake Emily Prentiss would never make under normal circumstances. He shook his head, hardly able to believe what he was seeing. "Don't feel guilty for doing your job. And doing it well, might I add," he said, trying to soothe ruffled feathers.

"I hope that means I can count on you for a letter of recommendation," Emily said with confidence she no longer felt. At the end of the day she had done her job, but she had withheld information on Declan and now it sounded like Clyde was questioning her objectivity when it came to Ian Doyle.

Clyde chuckled. Only Emily Prentiss would have the - for lack of a better word - balls to ask for a letter of recommendation after the conversation they'd just had. He knew he liked her for a reason. "I'll write you a glowing letter of recommendation. Should I make it out to Agent Hotchner?"

He was ribbing her again, but Emily would prefer that to Clyde questioning her feelings for Doyle any day. "Not yet. I'm serious about taking some time off."

"If that's what you want," Clyde acquiesced reluctantly.

It wasn't what she wanted. But she knew what she had to do if she wanted to avoid her baby being forever associated with Ian Doyle by the very same people who had wasted no time in using Doyle's son against him.

Emily Prentiss promised herself right then and there that she would die before she let either of Doyle's children pay for the sins of their father.