Authoress Notes:

Ginsensu – Thanks, enjoy!

Sirnonenath – Yeah LOL, I had loads of fun writing him in those scenes. Glad to hear you enjoyed them :]

Bensen14 – Thanks heaps. I hope you enjoy this chapter :]

Black Tulip – I'm not a very big fan of happy endings myself – cause in real life it's not always possible. Even if a story was to end on a happier tone, I think depending on what the character has gone through during the story or what has happened a degree of realism is needed in how you go about writing the events prior to it. I'm so glad you enjoyed it, hope this final chapter's up to scratch :]

Ninja Bagel – Thanks, hope you enjoy this chapter!

MxG – Ooo, sorry I didn't make it clearer, I just wanted to convey how Emily was seeing herself as she looked down at Marie – she was basically putting herself in Marie's position. I'm sorry that section was a bit of a jumble, most of my chapters literally are written from the top of my head and I often upload them without any editing.

Yessss, new profile pic :] It's Emily again too!

JWynn – Thanks heaps, I've really enjoyed reading your reviews. I hope this last chapter's to your liking :]

Forensicwhiz94 - *feels honoured* It's always rewarding to hear that the characters seem to be written in character, especially when portraying them in scenarios that they've never faced during the canon series. Thanks so much, I really hope you enjoy this chapter!

Title: COVET

By: Clonksholic

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of its characters. Any original characters belong to me. I gain no profit from writing this, and do so solely to entertain.

Warning: There WILL be geographical mistakes and inaccuracies in this fanfic. I am currently living in Australia, and my knowledge of America, its towns and cities is limited to sources on the internet and the media. Most of the town names are and will be fictional to avoid misrepresentation of real places.

Summary: With Emily Prentiss abducted by the serial rapist responsible for the murders of brunettes in Texas, both the abducted agent and the team must fight to restore order and save the remaining victims.

COVET

Chapter 9

Her heels tapped rhythmically against the polished tiles on the floor.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

A hollow emptiness echoed inside her. The corridor that lead to the main BAU office was deserted. She glanced at the watch on her wrist.

11:30.

Huh. No wonder.

She pushed the glass doors open with the intention of walking towards her desk to collect her belongings and head home. That was before she noticed the light in Hotch's office was still on.

A knock on his office door prompted the unit chief to look up from the files on his desk. 'Come in.'

'Hey,' Emily stood by his doorway, hesitant about whether to come in or not. 'You busy?'

He shook his head, subtly transferring the files on his desk to a small pile on its right hand side. 'Take a seat.'

The last time they had a moment like this was when Hotch had forbidden her from working on the field. She sat down cautiously, taking a glance at the files Hotch was busily putting away.

Foyet's case files.

So it had been Foyet that had been keeping Hotch up in the office all night. She knew everyone on the team had suspected it, but it was something that was never speculated out loud. 'I don't know, guess the reports are keeping him up tonight,' was how they shrugged it off.

'How can I help you?' Aaron asked, placing the final folder on top of the pile and placing one hand neatly on top of the other. 'Did the evaluation go alright?'

She gave a nod. 'Yeah, yeah.'

'I see.' He wasn't believing her. She wouldn't be surprised if he lengthened the number of times she was recommended to go.

'I just,' she began, pulling the chair closer to the desk. 'I just wanted to apologise.'

The unit chief's gaze was steady. 'For what.'

Emily gave a shrug. 'You know, for –'

'I don't appreciate you feeling obliged to apologise for something that's already over,' Hotch replied to her slow responses. 'Especially with something that you have little fault in – I should have kept you off the field, but I yielded, and allowed one of my agents who was being stalked by the unsub and another mentally disturbed individual as we found out later, to stay on the job.'

'And I did,' she defended, refraining from expressing the anger that suddenly seemed to well up inside her.

'I know, and you did well. I'm not questioning that,' Hotch said, voice calm and firm. 'However, why then are you in my office, wanting some sort of justification for the guilt you're feeling,'

She looked down at her lap, her eyelashes covering her pupils from view.

'It wasn't your fault Prentiss. You did what you had to do.'

Yes it was.

'You saved a victim. And given the circumstances the team couldn't be any more relieved with how you pulled through – the fact that you did pull through. But are you?'

Emily ran her fingers over the bumpy ridges on her wrists. They remained slightly red, harsh lines of skin a few shades darker than its usual tone.

She hoped they would last forever.

'How's Morgan doing?' She asked, eyes still refusing to meet Aaron's.

'You'd know that better than I would.' Was all the unit chief said. At that point, as Aaron grabbed one of the case files from the side of his desk, Emily stood up and departed from the room.

Aaron heard his office door close, and finally allowed himself to hide his face in the palms of his hands. He rubbed his forehead gingerly, tiredly.

As he watched the female agent leave the office through the blinds of his window, he could not help but feel heavy at heart for the two agents who had their minds intent on affixing guilt to themselves, in order to escape the inevitable truth that rang so true for their work and to convince their egos that somehow, they could have made a difference.

You can never save everyone. Sometimes, the case ended with no survivors, and it wasn't just the victims he was referring to.

No matter how long you had been at it, the death of victims in front of your eyes managed to place onto your shoulders guilt and a sense of responsibility no matter how good you were at detaching yourself from the experience. Having chosen the victim-to-be herself, there was no doubt that Emily Prentiss had walked away from that very moment with blood on her hands.

Blood that she had applied herself and refused to wash off. Guilt that she shouldn't feel, given that had she not made a decision, all the victims would have been murdered and Emily, subjected to severe physical torture and sexual assault before their arrival.

He didn't want to wonder how long it was going to take.

'Now, that same sound...paralyses me. I'm not the same person anymore.'

But Emily was not Elle. He had to keep reminding himself that. They were two different people and he knew for one that, Emily would continue on from this experience, somehow dust off its remains and rise back onto her feet once more.

But when that was going to occur, that was the pending question.

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.

.

Emily sat in the SUV, wrapping the bullet proof vest around her torso and strapping it firmly. She checked that her glock was at her hip, opening up the magazine to check that it was full, despite having done that only five minutes ago before she had entered the vehicle. She looked through the windscreen through the rearview mirror, exhaling deeply when the empty car park came into view.

A sudden jerking sound startled her, her right hand instinctively reaching for her glock on her hip as her head swerved to the driver's seat window.

'Whoa, whoa, Prentiss, it's me,' Derek said quickly, putting his hands up to calm her down. 'Can you open the door?'

Emily moved quickly, immediately unlocking the car door so the larger man could enter.

Damn it. She did not meet his eye. And then came the question.

'You okay?'

She nodded from behind her dark sunnies. 'Yeah, what makes you think I'm not.'

Derek gave a worried shrug, but did not pursue the matter any further.

'Just drive,' Emily said, averting her gaze towards the window. She was sure Derek had already seen the signs – if he hadn't, her previous actions would have confirmed his assumptions.

Looks like it was time to say hello to more therapy.

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'I know hyper vigilance when I see it, Rossi. Why isn't Hotch doing anything about it.'

'So you make Prentiss stay off the job. For how long would you propose.'

'You know that's not the point, Rossi. The reason why she's been attending each and every psych eval that's been scheduled for her is 'cause she doesn't want to draw any more attention to herself and you know it.'

'Alright, Morgan, so you tell me. What do you propose we do? Come on, you're obviously keen on the idea that keeping Prentiss from work is going to help out her situation. And yet here you are, despite being plagued by guilt yourself, working your butt off to make sure you can't focus on it, hoping it'll go away in the end.'

'That's different.'

'How?'

'…'

'She's coming into the office each morning, taking the cases with us every day for the same reasons that you are. Both of you are too busy trying to fasten the blame on yourselves you don't even realise both of you are going through the same thing, it drives me nuts. Here you are, trying to fix her, when you haven't even helped yourself.'

Derek remained silent, face twisted into a pained expression.

'You want her to take time off? Take some of your own advice first.'

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3 months later, 8:00 p.m.

Snow was still falling outside the by the time the BAU team entered the office after having finished their latest case.

The fatigue in the team members' faces were so painfully apparent to the Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner as he watched each of them take their places, their playful banter non existent in the silent office.

It had failed to return yet from the horrors of what they had experienced six months ago, events that seemed as clear as if it had happened yesterday, causing the case they had just finished fading away under those images of another chapter of the past.

Aaron acknowledged Dave with a silent look as the senior agent passed by to enter his office.

Before entering his own, Aaron gazed at the team below him once more. The wounds they had all received months before had obviously yet to heal.

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'Heading home?' Dave inquired as Emily gently lifted the long coat from the back of her chair and shrugged it on.

'Yeah, yourself?'

'I'll get Hotch. He was going to head out a minute ago.' Dave replied, heading back up the stairs towards the supervisor's office.

Emily, having finished packing up her things, headed towards the elevator in brisk steps, without informing the senior agent of her departure. She wasn't sure if she wanted to stand in their questioning gazes in the confined space of the elevator.

She entered, pressed the button that would take her down to the ground level where the vehicles were parked, and hastily pressed the second button which prompted the doors to slide shut in front of her without delay.

It was only then did she allow herself to breathe a deep sigh.

None of them ever asked explicitly whether she was alright, but she knew they were all wondering, wanting to ask the same damn question, wanting to know how she was coping with all now.

She would feel their gazes behind her back when she left rooms and the awkward silence that pursued upon her entrances.

Though she knew it was the natural course of events, she was inevitably beginning to get sick of them. The manner in which the unsaid questions, insinuating gestures beneath the painful silence that plagued her was almost suffocating.

Then there were also the memories of that day. The only good that came out of the uncomfortable atmosphere of the office and the cases were that it gave her something else to focus on other than the damn images and events from that day that, when allowed, clouded her five senses as clear as if she was reliving the one and a half days of hell.

She could keep it all away when in the office, or when on the job, but at home, it was impossible.

The ability she had learnt and practiced since her childhood, to compartmentalize, only took her so far. Once inside the complete empty silence of her home, her control vanished, leaving her completely vulnerable to the memories, the sights, the touches, the sounds. The voices.

A soft clunk and bell signaling the elevator had reached its stop prompted her to gaze up to confirm the level number, then out at the vast car park that opened before her.

Her heels echoed through its emptiness as Emily made her way towards where she remembered to have parked her vehicle.

It was silent.

Her steps quickened as the feeling of vulnerability returned, and in the space of no noise, memories threatened to come in crashing waves. She knew for sure she didn't need it here.

'How is she?' Emily asked the nurse.

'She's in stable condition. It's her mental health that's currently of the greatest concern to us,' she answered, motioning for Emily to follow her to the patient's room.

She mentally cursed herself for having parked the car further away from the elevator than she usually did as she inevitably began to remember once more.

'Understandable, given what she's been through of course,' the nurse added hastily.

Emily did not reply.

'Here we are!'

The number 340 jumped out at her like a loud yell.

'If you don't mind,' she stopped the nurse before she could open the door. 'If you don't mind, I'd like to wait out here, please?'

'Oh, I thought you wanted to see her?'

Emily gave her a reassuring smile, then held up her phone, pretending she had received a call.

'Oh, of course.' The nurse returned a warm grin, tottered into the room, and disappeared behind the closed door.

Coward. Said a voice in her head. Chicken.

Ignoring it, Emily placed the phone back in her pocket, turned on her heel and walked down the corridor to exit the hospital.

Ugh.

'You were lucky, Agent Prentiss. Somehow his knife missed your vital organs and he made sure it was superficial enough to ensure you didn't die from blood loss.'

Whoop de doo. Just her luck.

She pulled the coat tighter around herself, trying her hardest to focus on the cold that travelled through the soles of her heels. She wished she had brought a scarf, not so much for its warmth, but the sense of security it would bring with the covering of her neck and chin.

'I just…I wanted to thank you.' The man's stance defined the meaning of defeat as he thanked Emily with sincere gratitude.

'You have nothing to thank me for,' she said, the statement coming out colder than intended. I was unable to save your wife. And your baby.

She stopped herself just before the words fell off her tongue.

'I'm sorry,' she managed instead. 'If there's anything else I can do, please, do let me know.'

She could now see her car in the distance. She tried to think about what she would do after getting in as the memories became stronger and uncontrollably real. Get in, turn the ignition on, then the heater, getting warm was the priority…

'I'm afraid the patient has refused to see you, Agent Prentiss,' the nurse said, expression legitimately apologetic. 'Please forgive her, she's currently undergoing intense psychological treatments in order to –'

'It's not her fault,' Emily said, uncomfortable with the nurse's choice of words.

Alice wasn't the one who needed forgiveness.

'Well,' the nurse sighed. 'I guess it never is the victim's fault. Not in cases like this.'

She fumbled for her car keys in her pocket, causing her steps to slow.

Those looks, looking at her as if she was a victim. Pitiful, concerned, telling her that she was pathetic.

They treated her like a victim, carefully and cautiously, rethinking their sentences before saying them out loud, treating her as if she was a fragile vase.

She hated it.

'Agent Prentiss!'

A shrill voice caused her to halt abruptly in her steps.

Emily knew that voice.

She had to turn around. Her figure was frozen as she swerved slowly.

There, only a few feet away, stood Alive Timmons, stance unstable, figure gaunt and trembling in clothes that only consisted of a blouse and skirt. A shiny revolver was held in her hand, her arm straight as an arrow, aimed at Emily's face.

Emily stood still, rigid and unmoving. She barely registered the gun. For that moment, she did not know what it meant. Maybe she didn't want to recognize what it meant.

Tears had frozen to Alice's cheeks, her breath a white frosty mist as she breathed heavily.

'Alice?'

'You….you!'

The woman swallowed, legs threatening to buckle beneath her.

'You took…you took everything away from me!'

Her voice was the only one in the car park as it rose continuously with each word that was said, voice shrill and pained as it was forced between lips strained with cold.

Emily said nothing, expression emotionless and blank as she stood as rigid as a statue, and watched.

'You let him d-do those things to me! Why did you choose me, WHY!'

Alice's words were choked up in a heavy sob. She swallowed, tears continuing to flow down her cheeks.

'You just stood there, watching…watching as he did – e-everything! EVERY SINGLE DESPICABLE THING. AND YOU-YOU LET HIM! You just stood there, WATCHING.'

Her feet must be cold, Emily thought, looking at the woman's bare legs. Poor woman.

'W-why-why didn't you STOP HIM.'

She was going to catch a cold.

'Why. Why - WHY? WHY DIDN'T YOU STOP HIM.'

A dull click sounded as she unlocked the safety of the revolver with trembling hands.

'I…I have to do this,' Alice raised a hand to wipe the below her nose. 'I keep seeing him in my dreams…he won't leave me alone…but getting rid of you…that'll get rid of him…'

The woman's face screwed up in desperation and determination as she kept her hand steady.

'I…I have to do this…it's you he wants…then he'll leave me alone…He tells me that's the only way…'

Until the guilt for killing catches up to you. Then who will you blame, Alice. Will you then point that gun towards yourself in an effort to escape?

Emily could hear the woman's heavy breathing, and knew it did not come from the cold, but the nervousness, panic and exhilaration that came from the thought of her intended act.

Alice was not a trained marksman. She was a lawyer. Or once was. She had no military training. Emily knew she had the advantage. It wouldn't take very long for her to reach for her own gun and take a shot that was sure to hit. She also knew Alice was more than capable and determined of doing what she had travelled more than several thousand miles to do.

Then she realized.

She just didn't care anymore.

Emily slowly averted her gaze to the ground, vaguely registering a tear that fell from her eye to the top of her shoe.

'I'm sorry…' a tiny whisper escaped Alice's lips as her final words.

Then.

Two shots rang rapidly through the car park, one after the other, sharply shattering the silence.

A dull thud sounded as a body dropped to the floor.

Emily Prentiss barely noticed the white fog that occurred before her vision with each wintery breath she exhaled, which clouded her sight of the woman lying a few feet in front of her.

A woman dressed in clothes so thin, choice of clothing dismissed in her sole fiery desire for revenge and a single night of dreamless sleep.

A woman, who for the second time in her life, lay in a pool of her own blood, this time however, dead.

Too dead to see it.

Too dead to regret.

'Emily?'

The two men standing behind her, whose own guns they held in their outstretched hands, now lowered them as she nodded in reply.

David approached the body before her, taking the revolver from Alice's hand and checking her pulse.

'She's gone.'

She refused to meet either of their gaze as she continued to stare at Alice's body on the ground. It was only a few minutes later, when, after Dave had signaled to Hotch and he had brought the car to stand beside her, she finally managed to look away.

Dave opened the passenger door, motioning inside. When she politely refused, she was rewarded with one of her unit chief's unforgiving glares.

'Get in.'

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Emily could feel her hands trembling in the car despite their warmth as she sat in the seat beside Aaron. The journey was silent, the night out the window, pitch black against snow that shone in different colours under street lamps.

No words were shared as he accompanied her to her condo and they reached the door of her room. He said nothing even while noticing the difficulty she had unlocking the door, the trembling in her fingers refusing to cease.

There she finally turned towards him, after having unlocked it successfully, and spoke.

'Thanks for dropping me off.'

He gave a nod. 'Just returning the favour.'

She managed a half-smile in understanding, then opened the door slightly in order to allow herself in.

'So I'll be seeing you in the office tomorrow?'

Emily stopped in her tracks to look back at her unit chief, his statement finally having broken the ice and awkward silence that had ensued between the two of them. She smiled, for real this time.

'Yeah. You can count on it.'

He gave an approving nod, then turned to head back down the elevator.

'Hotch.' She called out just before the elevator arrived, prompting the man to turn his head in her direction.

'Thanks.' Was all she could manage. She knew that she would understand.

When she closed the door and faced her condo, she found herself shrouded in darkness. She pressed her back against the door for support as the trembling in her hands had transferred to her knees, causing them to buckle. She gently allowed herself to slide to the ground, where she brought her knees up to her chest.

Tears were something she was unfamiliar with despite it being the first action she had done upon her first breath. It had been so rare she could remember the exact times she had cried in her life.

Five years old, when the inevitability of physical pain became apparent after gravity had taken its toll on her child body and tossed it down the stairs.

Fifteen years old. That night where a rite of passage that had arrived too soon. The encounter with the male counterpart.

Fifteen again, just before she fell asleep under the effect of the anesthesia she followed the sensation of a tear that had escaped from the corner of her eye and dropped into her hair.

She had wondered afterwards what exactly she had been mourning for, was it the fear, or the guilt of indirectly committing infanticide? Or the losing of what really was, despite the shame, her child.

The tears became less frequent after each time she realized it was neither the reliever of physical pain nor the solution to the internal ones. The expression 'tears were a healing agent' was one that never proved to be true. Not for her in any case.

Her tears from then on were then spared only for others, to share moments of joy, empathise or cry together with those expressing pain.

She leaned against the door, breathing deeply as tears threatened to spill from her eyes.

She was not a victim. She repeated to herself.

Not a victim. Not a victim. Not a victim.

'…getting rid of you…that'll get rid of him…'

So what did she have to do to get rid of the same man who invaded her dreams every night? To stop their screams, that she could only escape after she was safely behind the glass doors of that office?

A few minutes later, as she tried to stand up, her knees gave way and brought her crashing to the floor. And along with it came tears; that fell onto her right wrist that she had brought up to protect her face from being smashed into the ground.

The warmth rolled onto the scars that lay etched into the skin, producing what seemed to be a comforting burning sensation.

And there she succumbed, straightening up to lean against the door once more. She closed her eyes. Her sobs were silent. The darkness within the room accompanied her lone figure in an empty embrace, and continued throughout the night.

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'Every time you win, you're reborn; when you lose, you die a little.'

George Allen

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'Is Emily in?'

Derek looked up from his file into JJ's blue eyes that were wide with concern. He shook his head. 'She answering her phone?'

'I thought you called her, I saw you putting it to your ear twice in the past hour.'

Derek turned away and did not respond. JJ swallowed, looking down at her cell phone, and said, 'I tried but it keeps going to her voice mail.'

She watched as the dark man looked up at the two offices that stood elevated only a few feet away from them. 'Have they said anything?'

JJ shook her head. 'Nothing. If Hotch had given Emily leave it would be in the system but Garcia wasn't able to find anything.'

She stepped back, startled as Derek rose from his chair without warning. 'Morgan?'

Without a response, Derek walked in quick, wide steps towards the unit chief's office.

'You won't find him,' came Dave's familiar voice, which prompted Derek to turn around as he had just reached Aaron's door.

He leaned against the office door with the elbow, and surveyed the senior agent with a frown.

'He's gone to pick up Emily,' Dave said, expression content and calm. 'He won't be long.'

As if on cue, Dave's cell phone buzzed in his pocket. Derek watched, expression intent and restless as he watched him answer it. JJ and Spencer, who had just been conversing, presumably about Emily's absence, hesitated and surveyed the two agents above them, gauging their reactions.

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Damn it Prentiss, answer the door.

For what seemed like the third time, Aaron attempted another series of heavy knocks. He was just about to attempt the cell phone when -

'Agent Hotchner?' A tentative call caused Aaron to turn around. He was slightly perplexed to see an old woman, with a thick bunch of letters in her hand standing just outside her door.

'Ma'am, I apologise if I've disturbed you. I'm just having some difficulty reaching – '

'Oh, no, no, nonsense. I'm an old bird up from the crack of dawn, I tell you,' she smiled at his courteous reply, waving his apology away. 'Agent Hotchner from Miss Emily's work, am I correct?'

He gave a nod, 'yes, I am. I'm on my way to pick her up now, actually.'

'Oh, good luck then,' she said, 'She might be a bit busy still, I presume.'

Aaron froze. 'Excuse me?'

The old woman gave him another smile, giving her shoulder a playful slap. 'Oh, silly me. Shouldn't be saying such stuff about private lives of my neighbours, naughty naughty.'

'Ma'am, what do you mean?'

'Oh, well at six thirty this morning I heard loud sounds of running water,' she finally said. One of the letters in her hand slipped through her fingers, settling itself on the ground a feet or so before her. 'I came out to check who it was coming from and it seemed to be sounding from Miss Emily's room – '

Crash.

A loud noise caused the old woman to jump up in alarm, the letter she had retrieved in her hand now crumpled in surprise.

No, Prentiss, you wouldn't be that stupid. Not you. Not to do something that rash –

It was only after he saw the empty bathroom, the bathtub clean and empty, did he release a breath of relief. He holstered the gun to his waist once more, raised a hand to the alarmed old woman standing outside Emily's door, and reached for his cell phone and dialed Emily's number when –

The vibrations rumbled on the coffee table behind him.

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'Hotch, did you find anything at her place that could suggest where she could have gone?' Derek demanded, once again at the wheel and turning it sharply to avoid a corner.

A heavy frown had settled on his forehead to match that of the unit chief's, who replied as negative. 'Nothing.'

'You dropped her off yesterday, what was she like?' Dave asked, voice seemingly calm but the slight growl at the end of his sentence revealing his agitation.

Aaron shook his head, reaching up to slide a hand down his forehead. 'She was…content by the time I left. I told her I'd be seeing her at the office and she seemed relieved.'

Spencer, upon observing Derek's eyes fix into an incriminating gaze, saw need to justify Hotch's decision. 'Allowing Emily to stay meant she had something to look forward to Morgan, it'd help her keep her mind off things. Perhaps even darker thoughts if – ' His voice lessened slightly in its enthusiasm as he sensed the tightening of the atmosphere inside the SUV – 'she ever did have them.' He finished.

'I know that,' Derek said. 'He wanted her to stay where we could keep an eye on her. You ain't giving me enough credit, kid.'

'Then?' JJ asked, not skipping a beat.

Another sharp turn.

'I just,' he tried again. 'I just wish I could have done more.'

'We all do,' She replied softly.

'The irony is that's exactly what she didn't want us to feel,' Dave said. 'Given that it's no wonder she's been having difficulty functioning – Emily's proud, even now she'd be denying that she's a victim.'

'She's not,' Derek corrected sharply, swerving around into a narrow street. 'She's not a victim. If anything, she's a survivor.'

.

.

.

Tiny hands, tiny smiles. First breaths of life.

The smiles of the couple beside her as they were able to look in on their child, as the nurse finally reached the glass with their creation in her arms.

God, how happy they looked.

She felt her legs complaining about the past hour she had spent standing up and looking inside, prompting her to reach the chairs nearby and taking a seat.

She closed her eyes, chest falling rhythmically as she breathed slowly.

'Miss?'

A soft voice jerked her from darkness. Emily looked up into the eyes of an old man, who tapped at his own wrist just below the syringe needle after checking that he had her attention.

'Would you happen to know the time?'

Emily, flustered at the sudden interaction, answered immediately. 'Yeah, yeah sure, the time is –'

Instead of the black leather of her wristwatch she found herself looking down at scars.

The time. The time.

Oh my god.

'Excuse me, what's the time?' She asked the man, immediately jumping up from her seat as a realization hit, and at the same time mentally kicking herself as soon as she realized the stupidity of her inquiry.

'I just asked you!' He responded, face beginning to scrunch up in frustration. 'You know, it's not funny to tease –'

'I'm so sorry!' she apologized over her shoulder, his figure diminishing in size as she ran towards the exit.

She fumbled in her coat pocket for the familiar bulk of the cell phone, cursing when she found none. Forcing herself to continue moving despite the pins and needles that jabbed up her right leg, she moved herself towards the glass doors of the hospital.

She wondered if she should stop to use the public phone.

Yes, they'd already be out looking for her.

Emily halted, heels almost losing balance on the well polished floor, and had just grabbed the receiver when –

'Prentiss!'

She turned around, breathing out a sigh of relief when she found herself looking at the whole team, who were rushing towards where she was standing.

'God, I'm – I'm so sorry, I got completely carried away – I' She blurted, dropping the receiver in her haste. It clattered noisily to the floor.

'It's okay, just catch your breath,' Derek said, a bright smile breaking on his face despite his voice breaking in a similar fashion.

'I – ,' it was only then she realised that she was smiling, amused at the events that had occurred within the past few seconds. Despite her previous expectations, it did not feel foreign at all, having found its original place back on her lips. 'How'd you know?'

Derek, the relieved grin on his lips matching hers, replied, 'Prentiss, we're profilers. Out of anyone we profile you should know that.'

'Give us some credit, please,' added Dave, corners of his lips flicked up in a cheeky smile.

She cocked her head to one side, eyebrow raised. 'You're not allowed to do that.'

'What?'

'You were profiling me.'

Derek and the team exchanged glances. 'No,' Spencer replied, the expression on his face genuinely innocent. 'We never said that.'

'Huh,' Emily said, looking down at the floor like a child, putting up the clueless act. 'You know, for a genius with an eidetic memory, you're pretty selective in what you recall.'

'Oooh,' Derek said, giving Spencer a playful shove on the shoulder. 'She got you there.'

'Not so fast,' JJ retorted, 'You're the one who said it, don't bring Spence into this.'

'She's right,' Aaron added as Derek opened his mouth to object, serious expression masking his amusement. 'You did say that.'

'Aw come on, Hotch, not you too!'

The agent's indignant reply prompted from the team a joyous chuckle, which Emily joine din, albeit softly.

At least, softly for the moment.

Outside the hospital, the clouds cleared to reveal a winter sun, its warmth illuminating the snow that covered the surroundings.

A snowman stood in the hospital courtyard, as two children began to run from it, their playful laughter lighting up the place. The shiny surface of the glass eyes used for its eyes and smiling mouth reflected several identical images of a black SUV, that became smaller and smaller in size as it sped away.

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Some of us (perfectionists, especially) fuss so much over making the 'right' choice, but in life, all that's really needed is to make any 'good choice', believe in it, go through with it, and accept the consequences.'

Anonymous

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FIN.

I'd like to thank everyone who saw through this fic until its end. Your words of encouragement were some of the greatest sources of motivation – please know that you also had a part in helping this piece reach its end.

I hope you enjoyed the ride, and perhaps if you get the time of day, drop by and check out some of my new fanfics that are coming up very soon.

Please R+R!