Disclaimer: I sadly do not own Criminal Minds, I'm just playing in their playground

Walking down this familiar street, I can't help but think about what got me here.

One year seems to go by in a much shorter time than you'd originally think. Especially when you spend the entire time looking over your shoulder for what might be lurking there as well as looking forward, hoping that you will have the upper hand against your prey. Sleep is irrelevant at this point. Only when my body just refuses to go on will I rest. And even then it will never be very sound. I'll wake up at the slightest noise, afraid that maybe I'm no longer the hunter and my prey has discovered me.

I remember that day that I walked out of the BAU. It was a year ago and it still stings like it has only been hours. I walked out, went to my newly rented car (with cash) and drove for god knows how long. I ran from my family and I can only hope they know why. I love them all too much to have brought them in to this. Ian Doyle is my problem. Ian Doyle is my nightmare. I drove as far as I could before pulling to the side of the road and let the tears come. I was ripping my heart to pieces by leaving them behind, leaving the only family I've had in years, but I had to or they'd never be safe.

I was always prepared that that day would come. I had enough cash on hand to enable me to go for at least 18 months without having to use my accounts. I've been renting cars, and sleeping in countless motel rooms for 12 months. This all started with Doyle hunting me but in time I managed to turn the tables and I became the hunter. He lost my trail but I never lost him. I just wish I could get close.

That thought brings my attention back to this familiar street. I stop in front of the townhouse, just for a second, to gather my nerve. A quick glance up and down the street to make sure no one is around and then I climb the steps and knock quick but loud.

A dog barks. Clooney, a small smile forms on my lips as I wait. The door opens and a clearly disgruntled Derek Morgan stands in front of me.

"Do you have ANY idea what time it- Emily?"

Its 2am, I think to myself.

"Can I come in?"

Without a word he steps aside, obviously shocked to see me there. Almost as if seeing a ghost, except I never died. I step inside and watch as he latches the door before turning to me. I can see the questions swimming in his eyes. The sleepiness is completely gone, replaced by concern and a hint of happiness.

"A year ago you said I could trust you with anything...no matter how bad. I came here in hopes that the sentiment still rings true."

"Always," The familiar line brings another small smile to my face.

"I need something from you. In particular, I need your access to a certain Tech nymph. I have hit a brick wall in my investigation; there is only so much you can do without actually being FBI anymore."

"Is it something that can wait until morning? Or do I need to do it now?"

"The morning is fine…it just needs to be first thing. I need two names looked up and I need it to be done in a way that is undetectable. They can't find out that anyone looked them up because they are definitely the type to get angry. Garcia can do that. I know she can."

"She can."

The air is full of unasked questions; he is doing everything in his power not to ask them. I glance around the room, taking in the surroundings.

"Where are you staying?"

His voice pulls me out of me head, "I was just going to find a cheap room for the rest of the night.."

"That's ridiculous, how long has it been since you've slept in a comfortable bed. Or had a bath instead of a luke-warm shower with barely enough pressure? You are staying here."

"Derek…I-"

"No. Go upstairs to the master bathroom, run a bath for yourself and I'll make you probably the only home cooked meal you've had in a year"

I had to admit, a home cooked meal sounded nice. And a bath would definitely help the perpetual knots in my shoulders from crappy motel beds. I look at him once more; Derek Morgan is definitely not someone to try to change the mind of. He once called me stubborn; I think he might need to look in a mirror.

After the bath I pull on the same clothes I had come in and go back to the living room. I find Derek sitting there with two plates of food on the coffee table and two glasses of milk. The third smile of the evening peaks out, "Milk?"

He looks up from his reverie and smirks, "Just making sure you are getting your nutrients."

I sit down and he hands me a plate. We enjoy the meal in a comfortable silence. I feel myself getting tired but I try to ignore it, afraid of what might find me in my dreams. I slowly lose the battle and fall to sleep right there on the couch.

I jolt awake and am completely thrown off by my surroundings before the memory of last night comes back to me. I am lying in a warm cocoon of blankets on an incredibly comfortable bed. Derek must have carried me here, I deduce as I sit up. Looking around, the man in question is nowhere to be found. I stand up and venture downstairs, wondering where he is. I jump as a key makes a sound in the front door; I quickly admonish myself as I realize its Derek.

He sees me on the stairs, "Good morning, I had to take Clooney for a walk. I hope I didn't alarm you."

Those eyes full of concern are almost too much to bear. I guess I can't be too surprised; I'm not exactly a picture of calm these days. I'm sure if he didn't know who I was he would be concerned that I was some sort of unsub.

"Not more alarmed than usual. You don't need to worry…what's in the bag?"

I gesture to the bag he has, it looks like it came from the local convenience store. I'm not stupid, I still know when something is up. He doesn't treat me like an imbecile either and responds immediately.

"I know you told me last night that you don't have a phone. So I bought you a burn phone."

I open my mouth to protest and he waves his hand to shut me up. He makes his way toward me until he is right in front of me. He makes eye contact, "I don't know the number. You don't have to turn it on until you need to. I just want you to take it with you. I want you to call me if you need any help. And wherever you are, whenever it is, I will come to you. No questions asked. Please."

He's pleading. His voice is on the verge of an emotion I'm afraid to acknowledge. I say nothing but I accept the phone from his hands.

We stand there without movement for a full minute before he drops his hands from mine. Our eyes finally break contact and he steps away from me. I am stuck in my thoughts and I vaguely hear him say he's leaving for work and will return at lunch with the information I'd asked him for.

I aimlessly flip through the channels on the television until eleven. When he walks through the door I can already tell that he has looked at those files in his hands.

"Emily, these guys are dangerous."

Straight to the point.

"They are all dangerous. Besides, I don't care. Something in those files will give me what I need to find Doyle and finally finish this!"

I look directly at him, daring him to try and talk me out of this. I've been in this for a year without help from anybody…I would find a way. He hands me the files and sighs, "I wish you would let me help you."

"Derek, don't."

He sighs again, "At least stay for lunch?"

I reluctantly agree, the longer I stay in D.C. the more I am risking to be exposed.

After we eat, he gets up to use the restroom and I take my chance. I quickly write a note on an extra piece of paper and slip it under his phone on the table by the door. I open the door and close it silently behind me.

I feel horrible doing this so secretively. He would never reveal me to Doyle, but I just can't risk Derek following me. I am down the street and around the corner before I stop to glance at the files I grabbed. I flip through them and smile to myself, that much closer. I look over my shoulder once more and continue the few blocks to the rental car I parked there. The faster I leave the safer they'll be.

Chpt. 2 as soon as I can!