AN: Formerly titled "A Ghost That Has Your Eyes"
This is the 3rd story this series.
Chapter 1
Emily lay motionless on the couch, her eyes fixed on the ceiling as the afternoon light slowly faded. The hours melted together, indistinguishable, like the endless procession of Saturdays that now defined her life. She felt the oppressive weight of apathy and ennui bearing down upon her, smothering any spark of motivation.
Two months had passed since she emerged from hiding, since Ian Doyle breathed his last, and she had clung to the desperate hope that her old life would be restored. But as she tried to pick up the pieces, Emily realized with a sinking feeling that the puzzle no longer fit together. The world had shifted on its axis, leaving her unmoored and adrift.
Fractured relationships remained, trust eroded by secrets and lies. Though she made faltering attempts to mend the damage, insidious doubts crept in - would things ever be the same again? Could the cracks in her foundation ever truly be repaired?
As dusk descended each evening, Emily found solace in the familiar embrace of a wine bottle. Darkness became her constant companion, shrouding her in its comforting anonymity as her mind wandered down twisted paths. Penance came in liquid form, the bitter taste of regret and self-recrimination coating her tongue.
In the suffocating isolation of the Paris safe house, loneliness had sunk its claws deep into her psyche. Even now, surrounded by the trappings of her former existence, that profound emptiness remained, an insatiable void that threatened to consume her.
Emily's thoughts spiraled inward, dissecting the sacrifices she had made - her privacy violated, her morals compromised, the tiny life she had borne and then relinquished. The weight of those choices pressed heavily upon her chest, constricting her breath. Had it been worth the cost? Could anything justify the pieces of herself she had lost along the way?
The buzz of her phone shattered the brittle silence. Rolling over with a sigh, Emily glanced at the illuminated screen - Garcia's cheery contact photo greeted her. Another case, no doubt. The promise of distraction, of purpose, flickered briefly in her mind. Perhaps diving headlong into someone else's tragedy could grant a temporary reprieve from her own. With a heavy heart, she reached for the phone, resignation and the faintest glimmer of hope warring within her as she swiped to answer.
An hour later, darkness had descended upon the tarmac, the BAU jet a beacon of light amidst the inky blackness. Emily's footsteps echoed hollowly as she trudged towards the aircraft, each step weighted with the burden of her thoughts. The wind whipped at her hair, its icy fingers sending a shiver down her spine, but the chill that settled in her bones had little to do with the November air.
As she approached the jet's stairs, Emily paused, drawing in a deep breath. The familiar scent of jet fuel and cold metal filled her lungs, grounding her in the present. She needed to focus, to push aside the relentless tide of emotions that threatened to drag her under. Her team, her work - they demanded her full attention, and she could not afford to let her personal demons bleed into the case.
"Come on, Emily," she murmured to herself, a half-hearted attempt at a pep talk. "You can do this. Just breathe."
With a shake of her head, as if to physically dislodge the weight of her thoughts, Emily climbed the steps to the jet. The wind tugged at her hair, its icy tendrils snaking beneath her collar, but she barely registered the discomfort. Her mind was already racing ahead, bracing itself for the horrors that awaited them in Michigan.
As she stepped into the cabin, Emily was greeted by the solemn faces of her colleagues. JJ, Rossi, Reid, and Hotch - each lost in their own thoughts, the gravity of the situation etched into their features. She offered them a half-smile, a feeble attempt at normalcy, before stowing her duffle bag in the overhead compartment.
Emily stowed her duffle bag overhead as snippets of conversation drifted to her ears as she settled into her seat, her colleagues lamenting the interruption to their Thanksgiving plans. A pang of guilt twinged in Emily's chest - she knew the sacrifices they all made, the personal lives they set aside in the name of justice. But secretly, selfishly, she was grateful for the distraction, for the chance to lose herself in the hunt for a monster, rather than confront the ones that lurked within her own mind.
"My mother is in town," JJ sighed, as she brushed a long strand of blonde hair out of her face. "To think, I was actually looking forward to spending some time with her."
"I hear you," Rossi commiserated, his voice tinged with a mix of resignation and understanding. "I had a date with a turkey and a bottle of Chianti. Looks like they'll both have to wait."
Emily approached the table, her steps measured and deliberate, a façade of composure masking the turmoil within. JJ greeted her with a warm smile, a gesture of friendship that Emily clung to like a lifeline.
"Hey," JJ greeted, scooting over to allow Emily the seat beside her, facing Rossi and Reid. Hotch stood in the aisle, hands in his pockets, surveying his team.
Settling into her seat, Emily glanced around. "Where's Morgan?" she asked, her voice a carefully controlled monotone.
JJ shrugged as Reid and Rossi exchanged blank looks. Emily bit her lip, trying to ignore the whispers of concern steadily rising in her mind.
Hurried footsteps clattered up the jet's stairs, drawing their attention to the entrance. Derek appeared, slightly out of breath.
"It's about time," Rossi chided as Derek hastily shoved his bag onto an empty seat.
But Derek barely acknowledged the remark, his movements agitated as he dropped heavily into a chair. Something was clearly amiss. Emily studied him closely, noting the tension in his shoulders, the distant look in his eyes. *What's going on with him?*
The rest of the team seemed to share her unspoken questions, their profiler instincts honing in on Derek's unsettled demeanor.
"I'm good to go," Derek said with a curt nod, but his clipped tone did little to assuage Emily's skepticism.
As Hotch called their attention to begin the briefing, Emily couldn't shake the sense that Derek was harbouring some inner turmoil, a storm raging just beneath the surface. First me, now him...She sighed inwardly. When did everything become so complicated?
The jet rumbled to life, preparing for takeoff, but an undercurrent of tension lingered in the air - an uneasiness that threatened to color the case ahead. Emily glanced out the window at the rapidly disappearing tarmac, wondering if they were all just broken pieces trying desperately to make a whole.
Garcia's cheerful face filled the screen, a fleeting moment of levity amidst the somber atmosphere. "Festive greetings, crime fighters! Gobble gobble. This year, like every other, I am thankful for all of you—"
"Garcia. The case," Hotch interjected, his stern tone redirecting the focus.
"You're right. Sorry, Sir." Garcia's expression sobered. "We can go around the table later because there are two missing children in Monroe, Michigan."
A collective rustle of papers filled the cabin as the team delved into their files, the smiling faces of the missing children staring back at them. Emily's heart clenched, a familiar ache resurfacing.
So young, so innocent...
"Eleven-year-old Benjamin and seven-year-old Robyn Duvall," Garcia continued. "They were reported missing by their grandmother when she woke up to find them gone."
"What a nightmare to wake up to," JJ murmured, her voice laced with empathy.
Emily's thoughts drifted to the parents, the unimaginable horror they must be facing. "Garcia, where were the parents?"
"Mom Carla passed away three years ago from a rare form of spinal cancer—"
"Chondrosarcoma," Reid interjected confidently.
"Ten points for Dr. Reid," Garcia quipped before sobering again. "Marshall Duvall is a commercial airline pilot. He's currently on a flight from Detroit to Portland and will be informed when he lands, which should be within the next hour."
"That's probably for the best," Rossi mused. "I'd turn the plane around if I were him."
"Being that he's set to land in an hour, it's unlikely the plane would be carrying enough fuel," Reid countered.
Rossi's unimpressed look spoke volumes.
"But I see your point," Reid added sheepishly, retreating to his file.
Emily's gaze drifted to Derek, who remained uncharacteristically silent, his eyes fixed on the file before him. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was gnawing at him, a secret burden he carried alone. What aren't you telling us, Derek?
Hotch's voice cut through her musings. "A twelve-year-old boy from a neighboring town went missing a few months prior. He's still missing."
"Do we think there's a connection?" Emily asked, her mind already sifting through the possibilities.
"It's too early to tell, but if so, Benjamin may be the primary target," Hotch replied, his brow furrowed in thought.
Rossi leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "Taking the sister might have been a forensic countermeasure. He couldn't take Benjamin without Robyn being a witness, so take both children."
Emily's piercing gaze flicked up from the case file, her brow furrowed with a mixture of concern and contemplation. "Do we think there's a connection?"
"It's too early to tell, but if so, Benjamin may be the primary target," Hotch replied, his expression grave and unyielding.
Rossi leaned forward, steepling his fingers as he mused, "Taking the sister might have been a forensic countermeasure. He couldn't take Benjamin without Robyn being a witness, so he takes her too."
Emily bit her lip, her mind racing with dark possibilities. "Maybe, but that would suggest that he chose Benjamin for a specific reason, and once he did that, he couldn't deviate from his plan. He needs this boy, but why?"
Her thoughts drifted involuntarily to her own daughter, the one she had given up years ago in a desperate attempt to protect her. The parallels were haunting, and Emily felt a twinge of empathy mixed with a deep-seated dread.
"The UnSub is probably known to the family," Rossi suggested, his tone heavy with implication. "We should look into anyone that's taken a special interest in the boy."
Emily's stomach churned at the thought. "I hate to be the one to point this out, but if we're right and Benjamin is the target, then our UnSub is not going to want to keep Robyn around for long."
"He may be using Robyn to control Benjamin," Reid interjected, his eyes ablaze with a sickening realization. "Do as I say or I kill your sister."
Hotch's expression darkened further, the weight of responsibility etched into the lines of his face. "Either way, Robyn doesn't have much time."
Emily's gaze drifted across the cabin, searching for Derek's familiar presence, seeking solace in their shared understanding. But as her eyes locked with his, she was startled to find them clouded with anxiety, darting away from her concerned stare.
She tilted her head subtly, silently asking if he was alright, but he quickly averted his gaze, avoiding her probing eyes. Emily turned back to the group, a knot forming in her stomach as she wondered if she had done something to upset him, some inadvertent misstep that had driven a wedge between them.
The thought gnawed at her, mingling with the dread that hung heavy in the air, the knowledge that two innocent lives hung in the balance. As the jet hurtled through the night sky, Emily couldn't shake the feeling that this case would test them all in ways they had never been tested before, unearthing secrets and fears long buried.
As the briefing drew to a close, Derek abruptly excused himself from the table, his chair scraping harshly against the floor. He retreated to the jet's bathroom, his shoulders hunched and his movements heavy with an unspoken burden. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving him alone with his thoughts, the weight of his secret knowledge threatening to crush him.
What was he supposed to do now? The question echoed in his mind, bouncing off the walls of the cramped space. He gripped the edge of the sink, his knuckles turning white as he stared at his reflection in the mirror, searching for answers in the haunted eyes that stared back at him.
JJ, ever attuned to the emotional currents of the team, noticed Derek's distress. She rose from her seat, intent on checking on him, but Hotch intercepted her, his expression grave.
"Do you know what's going on between them?" Hotch asked, his voice low and tinged with concern. "Morgan and Emily?"
JJ nodded, her brow furrowed. "Nothing. I think Emily's having a hard day, but I have no clue what's going on with him."
Hotch studied her, his keen eyes missing nothing. "But you also noticed something."
"Yes, I was just about to check on him," JJ admitted, her gaze flickering towards the bathroom door.
Hotch shook his head, his decision made. "Let it go. I'll speak to him."
JJ hesitated for a moment, torn between her instinct to help and her trust in Hotch's judgment. Finally, she acquiesced, returning to her seat with a heavy heart.
At the back of the jet, Emily sat alone, sipping a bottle of water as she stared out the window. The flight was short, but she had no desire for small talk, no energy to engage with the team. Her thoughts were consumed by Derek's odd behavior, the way he had brushed her off earlier. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had done something to upset him, but she couldn't muster the strength to confront him, not now.
Instead, she sank into her chair, her gaze fixed on the inky blackness beyond the window. The emptiness of her life yawned before her, a vast chasm that threatened to swallow her whole. She had fought so hard to reclaim her place in the world, to rebuild the relationships shattered by her supposed death, but the loneliness still clung to her like a second skin.
"You doing okay?" JJ's gentle voice drew Emily back to the present. She stood beside her, leaning against the back of the seat, her blue eyes filled with concern.
"Me? Of course," Emily replied, her voice tinged with surprise. She forced a smile, but it felt hollow, even to her.
JJ slid into the seat opposite her, her expression softening. "Okay, but you seem... down."
Emily bristled, her defenses rising. "I'm not sleeping the best. I think you're confusing my exhaustion for something it's not."
"I'm not here to judge you, Emily. I'm concerned," JJ said, her voice gentle but firm.
Emily shifted in her seat, her gaze drifting across the plane to where Derek sat, his leg bouncing nervously as he checked his phone compulsively. "I'm pretty sure I'm not the one you need to be concerned about right now."
JJ followed her gaze, her brow furrowing as she took in Derek's agitated state. "Do you have any idea what's going on with him?"
"No, but I have a feeling I've done something," Emily admitted, her voice heavy with resignation. "He brushed me off. I'm so tired of being the problem here."
"Hey, I'm sure it's nothing, but I'll talk to him," JJ offered, reaching out to squeeze Emily's hand.
Emily shook her head, her jaw tightening. "No, don't do that. Let's just clear this case, leave the drama for afterwards."
JJ hesitated, torn between her desire to help and her respect for Emily's wishes. Finally, she nodded, settling back into her seat as the jet hurtled through the night, carrying them towards a case that would test them all in ways they had never been tested before.
Derek stared into the mirror, his reflection fractured by the cracks in his composure. The weight of the secret he carried felt like a physical burden, pressing down on his shoulders and constricting his chest. He gripped the edges of the sink, his knuckles turning white as he fought to steady himself.
In the fluorescent light of the jet's bathroom, the truth seemed to mock him, taunting him with its inescapable reality. Robyn, the little girl they were flying to save, was Emily's daughter. The child she had given up to protect, to shield from the darkness that had consumed her own life. And now, by some cruel twist of fate, that very darkness had found her.
Derek's phone sat on the edge of the sink, its screen dark and silent. He willed it to light up, to ping with a message that would tell him what to do, how to navigate the minefield of emotions that lay ahead. But it remained stubbornly mute, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
A knock at the door startled him, and he jerked upright, his heart pounding. "Morgan? We're about to land." Reid's voice, muffled by the door, broke through his reverie.
"Yeah, be right out," Derek managed, his voice rough. He splashed water on his face, trying to wash away the evidence of his inner turmoil, before exiting the bathroom.
As he made his way back to his seat, he couldn't help but glance at Emily. She sat by the window, her gaze fixed on the darkness outside, her face a mask of determination. But he could see the cracks in her armor, the way her hands trembled slightly as she gripped the armrests.
He wanted to go to her, to tell her the truth, to shoulder some of the burden that he knew she carried. But he couldn't. Not yet. Not when the stakes were so high, and the truth so devastating.
As the team prepared to disembark, Derek's phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, his heart in his throat, and read the message that flashed across the screen.
"If you haven't told her yet, now is not the time."
The words seemed to mock him, their anonymity only adding to the sense of foreboding that settled over him like a shroud. He pocketed the phone and grabbed his bag, his mind racing as he followed the team out into the night.
The tarmac was cold and dark, the wind whipping around them as they made their way towards the waiting SUVs. Derek fell into step beside Emily, his shoulder brushing hers in a gesture of silent support. She glanced at him, her eyes searching his face for answers he couldn't give.
"You okay?" she asked, her voice low and tense.
Derek forced a smile, the lie tasting bitter on his tongue. "Yeah, just tired. Let's get this done."
Emily nodded, her jaw tightening as she climbed into the SUV. Derek followed, his heart heavy with the knowledge that the hardest part was yet to come.
As the SUVs pulled away from the airport, the darkness swallowed them whole, and Derek couldn't shake the feeling that they were driving towards a reckoning that none of them were prepared for.
Thanks for reading!