Identity, 6/?
Title: Identity
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Characters/Pairing: Prentiss-centric - gen
Genre: Angst/Drama
Summary: In the clutches of Ian Doyle, Emily dwells on her past. Meanwhile, the team are forced to dig deep into their colleague’s secrets in order to find her.
Chapter Six
The car wasn’t hidden - that was the first thing that Rossi noticed. It was parked in the street, not in an oversized lot in the middle of nowhere. That, along with the fact that the GPS had remained intact meant that Emily Prentiss had wanted them to find her vehicle.
‘It’s like she’s leaving a trail of breadcrumbs,’ Rossi commented.
‘Really, that’s the wrong term to be using,’ Reid pointed out. ‘Hansel only left a trail of breadcrumbs because he was unable to collect the white pebbles that he previously used - the breadcrumbs were eaten by the birds of the forest, which was the reason Hansel and Gretel happened upon the witch’s house in the first place.’
Rossi raised an eyebrow, and Reid shrugged. ‘But yes,’ he added. ‘It does seem to be the case.’
He unlocked the car with the spare key that they’d taken from the apartment, and a quick check-over didn’t show anything out of place. No blood, or bullets, or secret documents.
‘I’ve got something,’ Reid announced, when he opened the glove box. He withdrew Emily’s badge, phone and purse. ‘It looks like she took her gun with her.’
‘For all the good it did,’ Rossi frowned. He wondered what Emily’s intention had been - did she want to kill Doyle? Did she want to keep him away from the team? The way she’d left them clues.
‘Why leave them, though?’ Reid asked, his voice about half an octave higher than normal. ‘Why not just ask for our help?’ And there it was. Reid was upset; after all, Emily Prentiss wasn’t the only person who’d walked out of his life. She might’ve had better reasons for it than William Reid or Jason Gideon, but that didn’t stop the pain that Reid was feeling.
That they were all feeling.
‘I think she was trying to protect us,’ Rossi answered, but the question remained: was she trying to protect them from Doyle, or from herself?
…
‘Okay, so I was cross-referencing Emily’s GPS with hotel activity, but my boy genius and his veteran profiling pal found a keycard in Emily’s purse, making my job obsolete.’ Garcia updated Morgan in a tone that was nothing like her normal, jovial one. ‘Said profilers are on their way to that particular hotel now. I also went through her phone records - any calls the last few days - aside from the team - come from a single number.’
‘That would be my number,’ Clyde provided.
‘Who’s the sexy British man, my chocolate thunder? Why haven’t you introduced me yet?’
‘He’s with Interpol,’ Morgan answered, before Clyde could say anything. ‘He worked with Emily.’
‘We-I was keeping an eye on Doyle, but he dropped off my radar.’
‘We?’ Morgan asked.
‘My colleague and I,’ Clyde answered. ‘Tsia Mosely.’
‘As in the Tsia Mosely whose body we found whose entire file is classified?’
‘That would be my guess.’
Morgan frowned, remembering Emily’s reaction to the female body at their last crime scene. ‘Emily knew Tsia Mosely?’ he queried.
‘They were very close,’ Clyde shrugged, and Morgan noted a slight emphasis on the were. After everything that had happened, it was no wonder that Emily was scared. ‘Emily feels responsible for her death.’
‘Why would she feel responsible?’ A frown had creased across Hotch’s brow, as though it were a permanent fixture on his face.
‘She didn’t trust me anymore.’ There was a long pause. ‘I’m not sure she trusted anyone.’ The words hit Morgan like a sledgehammer. He so desperately wanted to believe that Emily did trust the team - that what she’d told him not two days ago in the SUV was true. As they learned more about her past, he was beginning to realize that Clyde was probably right. Emily didn’t trust anyone.
Hotch stared around the apartment. ‘There’s nothing more we can do here,’ he said decidedly. ‘We’re going back to the BAU.’ He gave Clyde a look. ‘And you’re coming with us.’
…
Rossi pulled the SUV into the visitor’s parking section of the lot. This was the hotel where Emily Prentiss had been staying for almost two weeks. Any one of the team would have gladly put her up, if she’d told them what was going on. It also would have made them a target, if the information they’d found was anything to go by.
They had the keycard, so they didn’t bother checking in with reception - it would be in, check for anything that could be useful in finding Emily, grab her cat, and then out. If it turned out that the scene needed further processing, then they’d talk to the hotel.
For now, though, Hotch was still intent on keeping this part of the investigation as low key as possible. If this turned pear-shaped, then Emily’s career would be ruined.
They took the elevator up in silence, perhaps a little apprehensive of what they would find. As far as they knew, Emily Prentiss could have lived a whole ‘nother life. Her relationship with Ian Doyle was only the tip of the iceberg.
Rossi stopped as they got to the door. A “Do Not Disturb” sign hung from the knob, which was the warning he needed to dive tackle Reid to the ground.
Overhead, a bullet tore through the door.
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Characters/Pairing: Prentiss-centric - gen
Genre: Angst/Drama
Summary: In the clutches of Ian Doyle, Emily dwells on her past. Meanwhile, the team are forced to dig deep into their colleague’s secrets in order to find her.
Chapter Six
The car wasn’t hidden - that was the first thing that Rossi noticed. It was parked in the street, not in an oversized lot in the middle of nowhere. That, along with the fact that the GPS had remained intact meant that Emily Prentiss had wanted them to find her vehicle.
‘It’s like she’s leaving a trail of breadcrumbs,’ Rossi commented.
‘Really, that’s the wrong term to be using,’ Reid pointed out. ‘Hansel only left a trail of breadcrumbs because he was unable to collect the white pebbles that he previously used - the breadcrumbs were eaten by the birds of the forest, which was the reason Hansel and Gretel happened upon the witch’s house in the first place.’
Rossi raised an eyebrow, and Reid shrugged. ‘But yes,’ he added. ‘It does seem to be the case.’
He unlocked the car with the spare key that they’d taken from the apartment, and a quick check-over didn’t show anything out of place. No blood, or bullets, or secret documents.
‘I’ve got something,’ Reid announced, when he opened the glove box. He withdrew Emily’s badge, phone and purse. ‘It looks like she took her gun with her.’
‘For all the good it did,’ Rossi frowned. He wondered what Emily’s intention had been - did she want to kill Doyle? Did she want to keep him away from the team? The way she’d left them clues.
‘Why leave them, though?’ Reid asked, his voice about half an octave higher than normal. ‘Why not just ask for our help?’ And there it was. Reid was upset; after all, Emily Prentiss wasn’t the only person who’d walked out of his life. She might’ve had better reasons for it than William Reid or Jason Gideon, but that didn’t stop the pain that Reid was feeling.
That they were all feeling.
‘I think she was trying to protect us,’ Rossi answered, but the question remained: was she trying to protect them from Doyle, or from herself?
…
‘Okay, so I was cross-referencing Emily’s GPS with hotel activity, but my boy genius and his veteran profiling pal found a keycard in Emily’s purse, making my job obsolete.’ Garcia updated Morgan in a tone that was nothing like her normal, jovial one. ‘Said profilers are on their way to that particular hotel now. I also went through her phone records - any calls the last few days - aside from the team - come from a single number.’
‘That would be my number,’ Clyde provided.
‘Who’s the sexy British man, my chocolate thunder? Why haven’t you introduced me yet?’
‘He’s with Interpol,’ Morgan answered, before Clyde could say anything. ‘He worked with Emily.’
‘We-I was keeping an eye on Doyle, but he dropped off my radar.’
‘We?’ Morgan asked.
‘My colleague and I,’ Clyde answered. ‘Tsia Mosely.’
‘As in the Tsia Mosely whose body we found whose entire file is classified?’
‘That would be my guess.’
Morgan frowned, remembering Emily’s reaction to the female body at their last crime scene. ‘Emily knew Tsia Mosely?’ he queried.
‘They were very close,’ Clyde shrugged, and Morgan noted a slight emphasis on the were. After everything that had happened, it was no wonder that Emily was scared. ‘Emily feels responsible for her death.’
‘Why would she feel responsible?’ A frown had creased across Hotch’s brow, as though it were a permanent fixture on his face.
‘She didn’t trust me anymore.’ There was a long pause. ‘I’m not sure she trusted anyone.’ The words hit Morgan like a sledgehammer. He so desperately wanted to believe that Emily did trust the team - that what she’d told him not two days ago in the SUV was true. As they learned more about her past, he was beginning to realize that Clyde was probably right. Emily didn’t trust anyone.
Hotch stared around the apartment. ‘There’s nothing more we can do here,’ he said decidedly. ‘We’re going back to the BAU.’ He gave Clyde a look. ‘And you’re coming with us.’
…
Rossi pulled the SUV into the visitor’s parking section of the lot. This was the hotel where Emily Prentiss had been staying for almost two weeks. Any one of the team would have gladly put her up, if she’d told them what was going on. It also would have made them a target, if the information they’d found was anything to go by.
They had the keycard, so they didn’t bother checking in with reception - it would be in, check for anything that could be useful in finding Emily, grab her cat, and then out. If it turned out that the scene needed further processing, then they’d talk to the hotel.
For now, though, Hotch was still intent on keeping this part of the investigation as low key as possible. If this turned pear-shaped, then Emily’s career would be ruined.
They took the elevator up in silence, perhaps a little apprehensive of what they would find. As far as they knew, Emily Prentiss could have lived a whole ‘nother life. Her relationship with Ian Doyle was only the tip of the iceberg.
Rossi stopped as they got to the door. A “Do Not Disturb” sign hung from the knob, which was the warning he needed to dive tackle Reid to the ground.
Overhead, a bullet tore through the door.