AN./ It looks like we have reached the end of the road, my faithful readers! Thank you so much for sticking with me through this, and I'm sorry the chapters slowed down towards the end. Please don't forget to leave me a review if you enjoyed this story - I have loved and still love hearing from you all. **Blows kisses** - Bec xx

Chapter 20

Reid was asleep when Hotch finally returned to wheel me in. As he'd promised, he did it personally, reassuring me again that Reid was going to be fine despite the fact that he was hooked up to all kinds of machines. When I first saw him I had a vision that he woke up and started going through exactly what each one of them did—what the heart monitor was saying, what the IV drip was for—but he didn't wake up.

The rest of the team had booked themselves into a motel and Hotch left shortly afterwards to get some sleep. I stayed with Reid, holding his hand and trying not to notice how thin he was. He'd always been on the small side but I didn't know you could lose that much weight in less than a week. I was a friend, I reminded myself, not his mother. And anyway he was going to be fine.

I was still in with Reid when Garcia and Emily arrived just after eleven-thirty, even though at least three nurses had tried and failed to wheel me back to my room. I'd ended up cursing at the last one and pulling rank and I felt belatedly guilty about it now. Still, what could I do? If I saw her again I'd try to give her less grief but I wasn't planning on leaving. Spence had been alone and afraid all week.

"Jayj," Emily whispered from the doorway. Calling it a whisper was probably generous of me. I got the impression she'd intended my name to come out at full volume but her voice had failed at the last minute. She pulled a seat up beside my wheelchair and took my hand before looking properly at Reid. I think she was steeling herself for what she'd see when she did. It was a good idea.

Garcia went straight for him and seemed to be fighting herself not to just grab him up in a hug. She'd always been the direct one, in spite of appearances.

"I can't believe he's really back," she squeaked, and it seemed like her voice too was suffering. "Look at him! This whole hospital's got its work cut out dealing with everyone from the warehouse."

"It's going to be a while before we know exactly what went on in there," Emily added, giving my hand a squeeze. "But what you guys did was amazing, getting everyone out."

"We lost a couple of SWAT agents," I reminded her quietly. "I mean, I think— I don't really know what happened after."

"Only one of them died," Garcia told me. "Your point man. The other guy you saw fall is stable. He's in here somewhere. And there are a few more injured but I wouldn't worry. All the civilians got out safely too except for one, but we think she was dead before we arrived."

I swallowed tightly. I wasn't ready to go back into what had happened and silence fell. The three of us watched as Reid shifted and groaned.

"Is he waking up? Should we call someone?" Garcia worried.

I shook my head. "He's been doing that every so often for the past few hours," I explained. "He's pretty far out of it. Doctor says he probably won't wake up until tomorrow, maybe the day after. He said it'll be easier for him if he doesn't…"

"What do you mean?"

"They have to detox him," I said. "He's been doped up near-constantly for almost a week. It's not going to be fun."

Emily hummed contemplatively. "We still don't know how they got him the first time."

"I don't care anymore," I admitted. "I just want to get away from this case and feel safe again."

"You are safe," Emily promised, brushing a soft kiss across my cheek.

I nodded unconvincingly. "When I get home I'll have to sort out my place, won't I? They turned it upside down."

"We'll all help you with that," Garcia offered. "It won't even take an afternoon if we all chip in."

"And you can stay with me until it's sorted," added Emily. "Now, come on. Hotch said if you were still here when we arrived, then it was time to put you to bed."

I relented. I seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.

Contrary to what the doctor had told Hotch, it was almost three days before Reid woke up. We weren't to worry, he continued to insist. Reid's body had been through a lot of stress and it was just trying to patch him up a bit before he had to deal with the mental strain of waking up. I wasn't reassured and even Hotch was showing signs of wear around the eyes. We needed this nightmare to be over already.

The morning Reid woke up, I had finally got the wheelchair removed from my room. It made me feel like an invalid and just having it gone restored some small measure of strength to me. I walked to Reid's room virtually unaided, although Emily's hand at the small of my back probably served a lightly supportive function as well as a comforting one.

"Spence," I breathed, seeing his eyes open. "You scared the hell out of us!"

Unlike me, Reid seemed to understand where he was immediately and without looking around. Maybe he'd been hearing us all this time or maybe that brilliant mind of his was just working in overdrive to catch up. Either way, it made things easier.

"How long have I been asleep?" he croaked and I thought that was an optimistic way of putting it.

"Three days, just about," I said, then reconsidered. "Actually, I'm not sure you were really conscious when we arrived. It could've been longer."

"I was dreaming." Reid's voice was high-pitched, uneven. "I dreamed you came. I must've heard you."

"Or maybe you just trusted we'd find you," Emily offered and her smile was warm, loving. She'd always had a soft spot for Reid. "I'll get the doctor."

"I did trust you," Reid affirmed as Emily left. "I knew you'd get my messages."

I placed a hand over his gently. "Spence, the night you came… I didn't protect you—"

"JJ," Reid interrupted, sounding surprised. "I didn't want you to protect me. I needed them to take me to where they were holding Winnie. I— I gambled that I could make them take me." His voice cracked but his eyes went on begging me to understand. "I only went to your apartment because I needed you to know something was wrong as quickly as possible—so you'd look for me before it was too late. I didn't expect them to follow me in."

"Spence, that's insane," I protested. "We've been out of our minds trying to figure you out when we could've been working on this as a team from the start! Why didn't you just come to us with the case?"

"I— I didn't know enough, JJ, and I…"

I watched Reid's guilt building and couldn't help but sigh. Hotch was going to tear into him if he found out Reid had put himself in this position on purpose, but I couldn't distress him any further. I was too glad to have him home.

"I saw Gillian Gardner yesterday. She's been in a few times, wanting to thank you for finding her sister." Reid seemed relieved to hear it and I realised he couldn't have known we'd saved her. There was still a lot for him to explain to us and for us to explain to him. "We got everyone out and… Well, some other things have happened since you've been gone, Spence."

Reid grinned feebly. "Like you and Emily?" he asked.

What a goddamn marvel. This kid who saw everything and knew everything, who cared enough to put his life on the line for someone he didn't know. He'd even seen what was happening between Emily and me.

"Well, for one thing—yes," I found myself almost laughing.

"I already knew," Reid replied, genuinely happy. "Or at least I can say I suspected. Then when I turned up at your place and saw you together, I knew."

"Is that all you saw at my place that night?" I asked, wondering how to broach the second topic with him. The rest of the team knew—Spence would have to as well at some point.

"No, I saw the other thing too," Reid told me more seriously, confirming my suspicions. "The thing Emily was hiding when I came in. I assume everyone else knows too, if you're telling me."

I nodded, taking a slow breath in. "It all came out at the hospital after you disappeared." I was actually relieved not to have to explain it to him. "We got knocked around a little but we're fine…"

"You're taking care of her," Reid assumed and I nodded again as the doctor entered with Emily following behind. Garcia, who they'd met in the corridor, brought up the rear with a wide grin.

"There's my little genius!" Penelope cried, fighting the doctor for Reid's attention. "Win any Nobel prizes in your dreams?"

"No, but actually my mother did," Reid replied brightly.

"Well, you know what they say, like mother like son," Garcia chirped, which probably wasn't the best thing she could've said, given than Reid's mother lives full time in a sanatorium, but Reid took it as a compliment.

"Spencer Reid, it looks like you've had an interesting week," the Doctor put in—a pleasantly gruff, older man with a sardonic note of humour to his voice.

"Yes Doctor, I think you could say that," Reid agreed.

"You're a very lucky man."

"Statistically, I would have to agree."

I couldn't keep the grin off my face at Reid's response and Garcia laughed outright. It was just so good to hear his voice, his unintentionally goofy syntax. His was an element that had been missing from our team all week—an empty seat, one less coffee cup at the round table, an awkward silence that he would have filled in some unique way. We depended on him.

As Emily came to stand by my chair, I stood and turned her face to place a soft kiss on her lips. Her smile was magic.

"Hey, Reid," she greeted our youngest profiler, raising her broken left arm in greeting. "I've been saving space on my cast. I thought you'd have something cool to write!"

And Reid wrote this:

"All living things contain a measure of madness that moves them in strange, sometimes inexplicable ways. This madness can be saving; it is part and parcel of the ability to adapt. Without it, no species would survive." - Yann Martel

The look in Emily's eyes told both of us she thought it was absolutely perfect.

Emily's apartment, at least, was exactly as I remembered it. Since we'd arrived back at Quantico after five and we'd been obliged to sort a few things out with Hotch before leaving the office, there was no point in trying to clean up my place tonight. Emily drove me home, regardless, and came inside with me, holding my hand as we passed through the carnage that was my living room. She helped me put some more clothes and other essentials into a bag, while I threw away all the perished perishables in my fridge and tried not to think too hard as we left.

Her place, though, was a sanctuary - untouched and pristine. Emily held the door open and let me walk inside first before taking my bag and kissing my neck from behind. Then she went to leave my bag in her bedroom for me. I guess we did that now - shared a bedroom. We'd done it while staying in the safe house with Morgan, so of course we'd do the same thing on our own. All the same, the thought of it made my heart race.

It was over. This whole mess was over. Reid was home, Hotch had arranged for us all to have a week off to recover—longer for Reid—and I was finally going to have time to prioritise my life. Maybe I'd use the total cleanup my apartment was going to need to make some changes? Morgan was into renovation and Garcia had said they were all prepared to help… It astounded me that I could think about things like that now -redoing my living room, maybe doing a little painting, finally getting that new sofa. I was smiling hugely when Emily returned from the bedroom and I pulled her into my arms right away.

Bemused, Emily's hands rested at my waist while I combed mine through her dark hair and kissed her like I hadn't seen her in months. God, you really start to appreciate your privacy after spending time in a hospital, and beyond that I'd barely had a minute away from the team since Reid's disappearance.

"Let's open a bottle of wine," I crooned, only pulling away enough to whisper the words against her lips.

Emily smirked good-humouredly. "You, Agent Jareau, are on pain medication."

"Spoilsport…"

"I'll tell you what," Emily offered. "I have some sparkling cider of the non-alcoholic variety. I'll pour it into a couple of champagne glasses and we can sit down and watch a movie and/or order some take-out and relax."

"A woman after my own heart," I sighed lightly, making a little fluttering gesture with my hand against my chest. "What are you in the mood for?"

"Assuming the correct answer isn't you…" Emily replied with a smirk. "I could go for Chinese food or maybe Indian?"

"Let's not do Chinese," I groaned. "Feels like we're on a case."

Emily laid a kiss on the end of my nose. "And we're not," she agreed. "Indian it is. Any preferences?"

I shook my head, brushing my arm against hers as I moved to sit on the couch and pulled the blanket there over me. "Surprise me."

Emily gave me a small grin as she walked into the kitchen to find the menu and the phone. I closed my eyes, smiling too.

I must have fallen asleep for a few minutes because when I opened my eyes the bottle of sparkling cider was on the table and Emily was sitting down beside me, sipping from a glass and wearing a t-shirt and the same dark silk pyjama pants she'd worn in the motel in Pennsylvania. The arm holding the glass, the one that wasn't still in a cast, bore two separate bandages. One, I knew, covered the cuts she'd made that day in the safe house, while the other, which I hadn't seen, was probably from the bathroom at the BAU, when Hotch told her she wasn't coming to Dallas with us. I reached out to extend her arm toward me and saw that the more recent one had bled through. It wasn't a significant amount of blood but I was concerned that it was bleeding at all now that several days had passed.

"Will you let me change this bandage?" I asked, running my fingertips along the edge gently.

I thought she was going to say she'd do it herself and not to worry but instead she nodded. "After dinner," she compromised. "I'm hungry. Can I get you a drink?"

"You've got a broken arm, I can pour it myself," I pointed out but Emily insisted and I held the champagne glass steady as she poured. Our eyes met as she drew back and I couldn't keep the smile from my face. It was surreal, whatever she did to me.

Dinner arrived not long after and Emily flipped through the channels until she found Despicable Me playing. She didn't ask if watching a Pixar cartoon was all right with me; she knew me well enough by now. Besides, we both needed to switch our brains off for a while after this case.

"What time is it?" I asked as I traded her a tub of korma for the butter chicken.

"Just before eight," Emily replied without checking her watch. "It only feels like midnight."

"It really does…" I leaned into her side smoothly and nestled in further as her good arm came around my shoulders.

"When I get to sleep, I'm not leaving that bed for the next week."

Taking a sip of my cider, I found myself winking lazily. "Fine by me…"

Emily laughed—a quick, surprised sound, almost a gasp—and then pressed her lips against mine. When she pulled back her mouth opened like she had something important to say but nothing came out.

"You taste like butter chicken," I accused her softly.

"So do you," she teased back, relieved.

"You know, we'll have to wake up at least one day this week if we're going to sort out my apartment."

Emily sighed and tightened her arm around my shoulders. "Why not just stay here with me?"

"Forever?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's too soon for me to ask you that, isn't it? But I'm happier with you here, Jayj."

Tracing my fingers down her neck, I swallowed hard. Re-entering the room where Reid had been taken from us had sent a stab of fear through my chest. Would that fear leave if we cleaned it up, if I painted the walls or bought a new sofa? Or would my apartment always be tainted by what happened there? I thought of Elle, how much she struggled after she'd been shot in her own home. She stopped sleeping, she drank more, she was jumpy and accusatory toward anyone who tried to help. We'd made excuses for her at the time but, looking back, she'd probably have gone mad if she hadn't left the Bureau. I thought of Gideon and his place in the country. Everyone on the team had somewhere they could go to feel safe and mine had been breached.

Yet stepping into Emily's apartment had felt like coming home.

"It's not too soon if you mean it," I murmured back and in that moment, seeing her eyes light up, I knew I'd made the right decision.

"I mean it," Emily promised.

"You won't get tired of having me around?" I asked, needing to be sure it wasn't just a whim for her. "You're used to a lot of privacy. I'm going to be more trouble than your cat."

Emily stroked her thumb across my cheek and I saw tears forming in her eyes. "Jayj, I'm used to a lot of things that aren't good for me," she admitted. "I want to get better. I want to be with you."

I contemplated this seriously. "Then can we get the lock taken off your bathroom door?" I asked.

A flicker of uncertainty crossed Emily's eyes at that but she blinked it away, the same action causing a tear to roll down her cheek. "I'm willing to do that for you, Jayj. Actually, I'd do anything for you. You have no idea…"

"So see someone about this, Em," I begged, running my fingertips lightly across her arm. "And make talking to me a higher priority. Let me be the judge of whether or not you need to punish yourself."

"Why do I get the feeling that if you're the judge I'm always going to be innocent," Emily sighed.

Placing a light kiss upon her lips, I replied, "None of us are innocent, Emily. But you're a good person who's been punishing herself long enough."

"There was this guy when I was fifteen," she admitted almost compulsively. "He was nobody— No, I was nobody. He was a popular guy. He wanted me and I just wanted to be wanted… I got pregnant. I had an abortion. It started then."

"Em, no kid should have to make a decision like that," I told her emphatically. I could tell by the way she spoke that it still affected her. Her sentences were short, clipped, like she couldn't choke them out any other way.

"But, Jennifer, you had a miscarriage! I know how much you wanted a baby; I know what it did to you to lose it." Emily was crying openly now. "And I killed mine. I was a stupid kid. I didn't know what I was doing."

"Em, listen to me," I begged. "You knew exactly what you were doing. Sometimes there is no right decision; whatever you choose is going to hurt. You were too young to raise a child. And I know you know that you didn't kill anything, it wasn't a baby yet. It was something that could've happened and you chose not to let it, that's all."

"But it's always a baby when I think about it," she whimpered. "And I thought about it every day. I knew I'd done what I needed to but there was so much guilt… Going back to my old life, trying to pretend like nothing had happened. Matthew, he was there, he helped me do it, and he walked me back to church and told me to hold my head high…"

"Matthew… Your friend who died a few years ago," I breathed. "God, Emily, that must have been so hard."

"He saved my life and I couldn't save his. He lost his faith, started doing drugs. You know how he died… I was too ashamed to tell you it was my fault. That's when I started to get bad again."

Seeing her sitting there in front of me, I knew she believed it—that Matthew's death was entirely her fault—and I couldn't believe she'd been carrying that guilt for so long. Her hand had fallen to twist one of her bandages between her fingers and her voice was quiet, broken. As much as she knew me, part of her still expected me to blame her and that broke my heart. I knew what it was like to blame yourself for the death of someone you loved.

"Em," I tried, barely trusting my own voice. "I'm sorry you had to go through that alone… All I can say is that you'll never have to again. I'm here, Em. I'm not going anywhere. And just because I lost a child, that doesn't mean I think any less of you for having an abortion. I— I think you were brave. You were strong enough to make a decision that was in both your interest and your baby's, even though it went against everything you were raised to believe. I think that's amazing. I think you're amazing." I swallowed, my throat tight as she looked up and met my eyes, finally. "And if you— If you ever wanted… Maybe one day we'll be in a position where it'll be the right time for us to have a child. If you still wanted one. I know it wouldn't be the same as the one that either of us lost but—"

I was cut off by Emily's lips on mine, a desperate kiss full of hope and gratitude and relief. God, I knew that feeling. It was the relief of letting go of a secret that had been haunting you since you could remember and realising it changed nothing; that the world was spinning on.

We made love for the first time that night. Not there on the couch but later in her bed, which became our bed, where six years later we lay with a child between us and kissed like it was the very first time.

I'm not going to say it was all easy. I'm not going to pretend that Emily's guilt wasn't so deeply ingrained that we're still dealing with it to this day. I'm just going to say that we are dealing with it. And Rosaline, my sister, my angel—if you can hear me—I love you still. I know I can't save you by saving Emily, but I know I can save Emily now because I lost you, and I am so, so grateful to you.

Emily Dickinson wrote: "One need not be a chamber to be haunted, one need not be a house; the brain has corridors surpassing material place."