A/N: this one is short but it felt like a good splice. More has been written, but it's not quite ready. This chapter is more just true-to-episode business, but next chapter will take us more into the "in between scenes" times once again.
"You were trying to do the right thing for your daughter." Emily reassured the doubtful woman sitting at her bedside.
"It wasn't just Jessie. There were other girls. He would marry them in secret and we were forbidden to speak of it." The last of Cathy's words were spoken in an emphasized whisper. She helped Emily stand, then shrugged the woman's bottom garments up, up, up into place, then fastened the button, choosing this time to leave the zipper as it was.
As Cathy gripped Emily's upper arm and guided Emily back down to sit on the bed, Emily began to speak with conviction. "Cyrus likes power, Cathy. The only reason he did this to me is because I was restrained. He had indisputable control over me. He has control over every person in this place! What do you think he's gonna do when he realizes he can't control the FBI?" Emily paused to let the question hang in the air. "He's going to end this on his terms, Cathy. He's planning a mass suicide."
"No! Cyrus wouldn't do that!" Cathy urged, squinting her eyes and shaking her head. She seemed to be convincing herself as much as she was Emily.
Emily decided to take the plunge—this was her last ditch effort to get the woman to help. She spoke rapidly, but clearly, as she made determined eye contact with Cathy. "The FBI is coming at 3am. You need to get the women and children down to the tunnel."
Cathy withdrew her body, not ready for the responsibility being placed on her. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I know you are strong enough to do what is right for your daughter." Emily said resolutely.
Cathy shook her head and released Emily's blouse after failing to refasten it. She recoiled and her body language rejected the truth being presented to her. Cathy was out the door before Emily could think of anything more to persuade the woman. The door slammed, and Emily's mouth was left agape as her words failed her. She tried not to worry herself over whether she'd blown the operation. Did she trust the wrong person? Did she screw herself and everyone in the compound by revealing the raid details? Should she reach out again to her team?—Warn them of her mistake? Emily wasn't sure, and she was failing at "not worrying."
Emily forced herself to stand, then paced back and forth at the bedside. Eventually she managed to reason that her conversation would have been transmitted to the outside, so the team knew what had been said. This was out of her hands now. She looked at the clock and saw she'd been pacing a good twenty-five minutes, so she reluctantly allowed herself to return to the bed. First, she sat, hung her head, and, as still no epiphany hit her, she finally resolved to lie back down and await the impending climax of the story. All she could do was wait.
--
Emily hadn't fallen asleep, but was lying vacantly for at least two hours when Cathy burst startlingly through the door. In a hushed and urgent voice she spoke to Emily: "You were right. Cyrus is lining the place with explosives. Come on, hurry, it's 2:45! I told Jessie [that] Cyrus wanted her to get all the women and children to the bunker."
Kathy quickly untied Emily's wrists and the pair of them rushed out the door. As they scuttled down the dark hallway, Emily fumbled her fingers along the button seam of her blouse. She found that only two loosely hanging buttons had survived the evening. Yet, she refastened them as best she could, then tucked the shirt into her trousers to help hold the front panels closed. This easily could have happened during the beating, Emily assured herself as she hurriedly limped and scooted her way along the corridors, following Cathy.
Moments after she entered the main basement, and she noted the hordes of women and children filing up and out of the exit, down through the stairway came the familiar face of Derek Morgan. Relief rushed into her as she saw him, but the moment was cut short as the thought of Reid rushed into her mind. "Reid is on the first floor with Cyrus."
"We need to get you out of here." Derek replied.
"No, we need to get Reid!" Emily protested desperately.
Derek held up his hands and blocked Emily from reentering the danger zone, "I will get him, Prentiss. Just get yourself out of here—now."
Emily complied. Honestly, she was grateful for the push. The finality in Derek's voice gave her freedom to get herself safe—she alone was not about to give herself that permission. Reid, her precious younger coworker and friend, who she gave everything to protect, was still not out of the woods. As she climbed the stairs to exit the compound, all she could think of was Spencer Reid. Come on, kid, you get out of here alive! She willed the message to Spencer with all her might.
Emily emerged from the tunnel among a horde of women and children, as well as a handful of men who had seen reason in the end. She resolved not to let her guard down until she knew her people were safe, yet the moment the fresh outside air hit her nostrils she felt an unexpected relief. She allowed her senses to celebrate this first perception of freedom and her eyes fluttered closed. Suddenly, her senses were assaulted yet again, all at once. Loud, echoing, successive booms pounded on her eardrums. Bright flashes of orange and yellow danced in front of her eyes. Subterranean rumbles shook her feet, as Emily's heart pounded and her breath caught. "REID!" She bellowed with all her might. Remembering that two of her closest people were still inside, she desperately called out again, "MORGAN!"
She could see nothing but flames and smoke. She could hear cries and shouts from terrified strangers in all directions, but not the voices she was seeking. Emily looked toward the chapel, and began limping her way towards the entrance. "REID!? MORGAN?!" She repeated herself several times, her voice becoming more desperate as fear gobbled up any hope she had left. "REEEID! MORGAAAN!"
Out of the backdrop of dancing flames, Emily saw two silhouettes stumbling and coughing. Her heart skipped. Was it them? "Reid? Morgan?" She weakly let out one more time. Then, as the silhouettes became clearer, relief flooded Emily in full force. Her scalp tingled and her feet felt numb. She cupped her hands over her nose and mouth, closed her eyes, and bowed slightly in gratefulness. Emily gave herself less than a second to collect herself, then pushed herself onward towards the men she thought she'd lost.
