Emily was confused. In fact, she could not recall ever being so confused before in her life. This was saying something, as she was pretty sure she held the team record for concussions.

It was not that Emily did not know where she was. To the contrary, she knew exactly where she was. She was at the BAU, standing just before the elevator door outside the bullpen. Yet this was about all she knew. She didn't know how she got there, and she had no idea why the place seemed to be completely empty. Even in the early morning hours, there were always agents on duty in the Quantico building, but now the place seemed completely abandoned.

There was also the matter of the strange noise. Despite the fact that there appeared to be nobody around, an odd sound reverberated throughout the halls. It almost sounded like somebody was speaking, but if so the voice was too muffled for Emily to make out any words.

Despite the total bizarreness of the situation, Emily somehow knew what to do. She reached out to the elevator buttons and pushed the up arrow. After doing so, she paused for a moment, pondering the strangeness of her action. Emily almost never took the elevator above the sixth floor, where the BAU officers were located. The floors above all housed the offices of different departments. With the exception of the occasional coordination with the White Collar Crimes Division, there was hardly any reason to do so. Emily could count on one hand the number of times she had visited the upper floors. Still, she knew instinctively that up was the right way to go, even if she was not sure why.

The opening of the elevator doors did nothing to alleviate her confusion. She knew the man inside. Knew him very well, for that matter. But it made no sense for him to be here. It made no sense for him to be anywhere at all.

The last time she saw her friend Matthew Benton was three years ago, on a slab in the morgue.

"Matthew?" she asked, bewildered.

"Hi Emily," he said, smiling gently. It was clear he was pleased to see her, but she detected the slightest bit of sadness in his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" she pressed. "What is going on? This doesn't make any sense."

"Yes it does, Em," he replied softly.

"What are you talking about?"

"Think," he told her. "Where were you before you got here?"

Emily was dumbfounded. She had no idea how she got here, so she wasn't sure exactly how she was supposed to know where she was before. Then it hit her.

Denver. She was in Denver. She was with the team on a serial rape and murder case. Through a combination of decent profiling and sheer dumb luck, she and Morgan located the unsub's house. In an ideal world they would have waited for backup, but they didn't have time. They knew that there was a sixteen-year-old girl inside, alone with a monster. If they waited, the unsub might kill her at any second. Both agents agreed they had to go in immediately. They decided to split up. Morgan would go to the front, Emily to the back.

As Emily approached the back door, she saw that the back of the house was completely dark.

"Shit," she thought. It was always better to be able to see where you were going before you went in. Yet Emily wasn't too worried. She had gone in blind dozens of times before and come out just fine. They all had. She still had three major advantages on her side: a flack vest, her ever-reliable Glock 19, and the all-important element of surprise.

She quickly discovered another advantage. The unsub had left the back door unlocked. The knob gave silently and easily to her turn. The fact that she didn't have to kick in the door meant she wouldn't give away her position prematurely.

A thunderous crash from the front of the building told her Derek hadn't been so lucky. The unsub certainly would have heard it. She knew they now had to move fast. She quickly cleared the kitchen, then made for the hallway. She did not even finish turning the corner before she knew she was in trouble. She saw the flash of the muzzle and heard the near simultaneous pops of two guns. One her own, the other aimed at her.

That was the last thing she could remember. After that, she was here. As realization dawned on her, she noticed that the muffled sound reverberating throughout the BAU was becoming clearer. She had been right. It was a voice. It was Morgan. She could here him pleading, screaming.

"Dammit, Prentiss. Don't do this to me. Not again! Come on Emily, wake up! Wake up!"

Matthew must have seen the look of hesitation and guilt on her face.

"You can't go back to him, Em."

"I know," she answered. "But this is going to eat him up. He's going to hate himself. And he's going to hate me."

"No he won't," Matthew answered confidently. "Maybe at first, but eventually he'll understand. This isn't his fault. And it certainly isn't yours. It's just your time."

She nodded in understanding, even managing a half smile.

"Is the girl at least safe?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered. "Apparently you're not a bad shot. You got your guy. But let's just say he won't be joining us. He'll be…elsewhere."

Matthew then stepped aside, making room for Emily to walk through the elevator doors. She understood the implication. It was time to go.

"It's good to see you again, Matthew," she said, striding across the threshold of the elevator.

"You too, Em," he answered pressing the only button on the inside of the elevator - another arrow pointing up.

"Are you scared?" he asked as the doors slid shut.

"No," she answered. "Not this time."