Broken Faith, Part Three
Title: Broken Faith
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Characters/Pairing: Morgan, Prentiss, team - gen
Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Friendship
Summary: “Put more trust in nobility of character than in an oath.” ~ Solon.
Warnings: Spoilers for 6x18.
…
Part Three
Trust not him that has once broken faith.
William Shakespeare - Henry VI
…
It was four a.m. when Morgan woke. He heard the rustling of sheets, and soft moans in the room opposite his - not particularly loud, but then, he’d been sleeping lightly anyway.
There was a loud, exasperated, ‘Fuck.’
‘Everything okay?’ he called back.
‘Yeah,’ Emily said, but Morgan heard the crack in her voice. He pulled back the sheets and slid out of bed.
Emily was dressed in a tank and sweatpants, sitting at the edge of the bed. The light on the nightstand cast a soft, orange glow over haunting features.
‘Nightmare?’ he asked, and Emily gave a slight grimace.
‘It’s nothing.’
‘Doyle’s dead,’ he told her firmly. ‘He can’t hurt you.’
‘I was dead too, remember?’
Morgan frowned. ‘You think someone was trying to draw you out?’
Emily didn’t answer straight away, and when she did, it wasn’t a direct answer. ‘For a long time, my life was built on lies. Every cover I had - every alias - was based on a part of my own life, but they weren’t me. They were completely different people. When you live that life long enough…it’s hard enough to trust yourself, let alone anyone else. Until I see his body, with a bullet hole between his eyes, I’m going to be a little bit paranoid.’
‘What about a picture?’
‘You mean like the pictures of Declan and Louise Jones’s execution?’ she countered, and Morgan conceded that she did have a point.
‘So why come back?’
‘Because for the first time, I felt like I had something to come back to.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you - I was scared…and I was ashamed at what I had to do to bring Ian Doyle down.’ For a moment, it almost seemed as though she was going to tell him a little more about what she’d done, but instead, she moved back up onto the bed. ‘I’m going to try and get back to sleep. Thanks, for…Thanks for everything, Derek.’
He gave her a sad smile. ‘Always.’
…
The thought of sneaking out before Morgan woke was a tempting one. Emily didn’t particularly want to deal with the awkward silences and his intermittent reassurance that everything was going to be okay. He might have known more than she would have liked about Ian Doyle, but he didn’t know everything.
‘So what did you have planned for the day?’ Morgan asked, no doubt trying to sound casual as he wolfed down cornflakes.
‘I was going to go see my mother,’ Emily told him, biting her lip. ‘I also have a meeting with Strauss in the afternoon.’
Morgan frowned. ‘So soon? Don’t you want to get things sorted out first?’
Emily shook her head. ‘I’m not going in to tell her I’m coming back, Morgan. I’m going in to make my resignation a little more official.’
Morgan stared at her. This was what Emily wanted to avoid. She’d wanted to have handed in her forms before Morgan had the chance to do anything about it. ‘What do you mean, Emily? You can’t quit.’
Emily gave a low laugh. ‘Aside from all the laws I broke to track down Doyle, Morgan, can you look me in the eye and tell me that you still trust me to have your back?’
He looked her in the eye, and Emily could see the truth. He couldn’t make that promise, and with good reason. Emily hadn’t kept her past from the team just because she was ashamed of it. Joining a new team, the most important thing in the world was trust. Of course, thanks to Strauss’ intervention, that almost hadn’t mattered at all.
‘What’ll you do?’
‘I don’t know,’ Emily told him truthfully. ‘Probably something a little less…intense. Who knows how long that will last?’ It was a hard life to walk away from, especially considering the fact that the only friends she even really had were the BAU team. But if she did manage to find a way to adopt Declan, the FBI was not a place she wanted to be working. ‘Maybe I can join a book club.’
‘You alright for cash?’ Morgan asked, as he dropped her off at the Metro station. While he had offered to drive her into D.C., it wasn’t exactly the most practical drive, and Emily wasn’t exactly looking forward to the long, awkward drive.
‘Yeah,’ she nodded. Her U.S. bank account had no doubt been emptied out, but she’d exchanged some cash before the flight over. It was enough to survive, or, if she needed to, run again. It wasn’t a particularly noble option, but nobility went completely out the window when the people you loved were in danger.
The Metro ride into D.C. was about the same as almost every one that Emily had made before. Somehow, she felt like things should be different, like people should have been staring at her. They were too busy being wrapped up in their own lives - she couldn’t fault them for that.
When she reached the FBI Academy, though, it was a different story. Here, people knew that she had died. Some of them had probably even been at her funeral. By now, though, she figured that news of her resurrection had made its way around the rumor mill.
Sure enough, there were stares. Frank, the red-headed security guard, gave her a tight hug. A couple of people in the elevator congratulated her, as if almost dying and having to go into hiding was something that she was supposed to be proud of. Strauss wasn’t nearly as sentimental, and for once in her life, Emily was glad of that fact.
‘It’s good to see you’re well, Emily,’ Strauss said, and it felt kind of weird for the Section Chief to be using her given name, instead “Agent Prentiss.” ‘I wasn’t entirely sure that this was the best course of action, under the circumstances, but it seems to have all worked out.’
Emily raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t exactly how she would have put it. If things had “worked out” she wouldn’t have been in Strauss’ office at all. If things had “worked out” she would have been in the bullpen, at her desk, doing paperwork. If things had “worked out” she wouldn’t have been staying with Morgan, or living out of a duffle bag. Six months ago, Emily might have made a scathing remark, but today, she didn’t.
The papers needed Hotch’s signature as well, so it was with a heavy heart that Emily made her way down to the BAU. She tried to make herself inconspicuous as she walked around the edges of the bullpen, but it seemed like someone had made a loudspeaker announcement of her presence.
Maybe she should have come in on the weekend.
‘How are you settling back in?’ Hotch asked, before he even looked at the form that she passed him.
‘Well until I get a new place, it’s going to be a little awkward,’ she admitted. ‘Derek’s been…far more accommodating than I could have hoped for, but I know that deep down he feels like I’ve betrayed him.’
Hotch nodded. The fact that the Unit Chief had been complicit in the lie regarding Emily’s death meant that he probably wasn’t exactly in Morgan’s good books either.
‘Are you sure this is what you want to do?’ he asked, gesturing towards the sheet of paper. ‘It doesn’t matter what happened, you know you still have a place on this team, if you want it.’
Unlike with Morgan, Emily didn’t appeal to Hotch’s fears. She gave it to him straight. ‘I don’t know if I can come back, Hotch. At least…not right away. I need to…I don’t know…Do something different for a while, I guess. Consider it an early retirement.’ She bit her lip. ‘And please don’t try to drag me to Milwaukee this time.’
Hotch smiled at that, and he signed the form without further questioning. ‘If you need anything…’ he said, and Emily got the idea that those words were going to be oft repeated ones over the next few days.
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Characters/Pairing: Morgan, Prentiss, team - gen
Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Friendship
Summary: “Put more trust in nobility of character than in an oath.” ~ Solon.
Warnings: Spoilers for 6x18.
…
Part Three
Trust not him that has once broken faith.
William Shakespeare - Henry VI
…
It was four a.m. when Morgan woke. He heard the rustling of sheets, and soft moans in the room opposite his - not particularly loud, but then, he’d been sleeping lightly anyway.
There was a loud, exasperated, ‘Fuck.’
‘Everything okay?’ he called back.
‘Yeah,’ Emily said, but Morgan heard the crack in her voice. He pulled back the sheets and slid out of bed.
Emily was dressed in a tank and sweatpants, sitting at the edge of the bed. The light on the nightstand cast a soft, orange glow over haunting features.
‘Nightmare?’ he asked, and Emily gave a slight grimace.
‘It’s nothing.’
‘Doyle’s dead,’ he told her firmly. ‘He can’t hurt you.’
‘I was dead too, remember?’
Morgan frowned. ‘You think someone was trying to draw you out?’
Emily didn’t answer straight away, and when she did, it wasn’t a direct answer. ‘For a long time, my life was built on lies. Every cover I had - every alias - was based on a part of my own life, but they weren’t me. They were completely different people. When you live that life long enough…it’s hard enough to trust yourself, let alone anyone else. Until I see his body, with a bullet hole between his eyes, I’m going to be a little bit paranoid.’
‘What about a picture?’
‘You mean like the pictures of Declan and Louise Jones’s execution?’ she countered, and Morgan conceded that she did have a point.
‘So why come back?’
‘Because for the first time, I felt like I had something to come back to.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you - I was scared…and I was ashamed at what I had to do to bring Ian Doyle down.’ For a moment, it almost seemed as though she was going to tell him a little more about what she’d done, but instead, she moved back up onto the bed. ‘I’m going to try and get back to sleep. Thanks, for…Thanks for everything, Derek.’
He gave her a sad smile. ‘Always.’
…
The thought of sneaking out before Morgan woke was a tempting one. Emily didn’t particularly want to deal with the awkward silences and his intermittent reassurance that everything was going to be okay. He might have known more than she would have liked about Ian Doyle, but he didn’t know everything.
‘So what did you have planned for the day?’ Morgan asked, no doubt trying to sound casual as he wolfed down cornflakes.
‘I was going to go see my mother,’ Emily told him, biting her lip. ‘I also have a meeting with Strauss in the afternoon.’
Morgan frowned. ‘So soon? Don’t you want to get things sorted out first?’
Emily shook her head. ‘I’m not going in to tell her I’m coming back, Morgan. I’m going in to make my resignation a little more official.’
Morgan stared at her. This was what Emily wanted to avoid. She’d wanted to have handed in her forms before Morgan had the chance to do anything about it. ‘What do you mean, Emily? You can’t quit.’
Emily gave a low laugh. ‘Aside from all the laws I broke to track down Doyle, Morgan, can you look me in the eye and tell me that you still trust me to have your back?’
He looked her in the eye, and Emily could see the truth. He couldn’t make that promise, and with good reason. Emily hadn’t kept her past from the team just because she was ashamed of it. Joining a new team, the most important thing in the world was trust. Of course, thanks to Strauss’ intervention, that almost hadn’t mattered at all.
‘What’ll you do?’
‘I don’t know,’ Emily told him truthfully. ‘Probably something a little less…intense. Who knows how long that will last?’ It was a hard life to walk away from, especially considering the fact that the only friends she even really had were the BAU team. But if she did manage to find a way to adopt Declan, the FBI was not a place she wanted to be working. ‘Maybe I can join a book club.’
‘You alright for cash?’ Morgan asked, as he dropped her off at the Metro station. While he had offered to drive her into D.C., it wasn’t exactly the most practical drive, and Emily wasn’t exactly looking forward to the long, awkward drive.
‘Yeah,’ she nodded. Her U.S. bank account had no doubt been emptied out, but she’d exchanged some cash before the flight over. It was enough to survive, or, if she needed to, run again. It wasn’t a particularly noble option, but nobility went completely out the window when the people you loved were in danger.
The Metro ride into D.C. was about the same as almost every one that Emily had made before. Somehow, she felt like things should be different, like people should have been staring at her. They were too busy being wrapped up in their own lives - she couldn’t fault them for that.
When she reached the FBI Academy, though, it was a different story. Here, people knew that she had died. Some of them had probably even been at her funeral. By now, though, she figured that news of her resurrection had made its way around the rumor mill.
Sure enough, there were stares. Frank, the red-headed security guard, gave her a tight hug. A couple of people in the elevator congratulated her, as if almost dying and having to go into hiding was something that she was supposed to be proud of. Strauss wasn’t nearly as sentimental, and for once in her life, Emily was glad of that fact.
‘It’s good to see you’re well, Emily,’ Strauss said, and it felt kind of weird for the Section Chief to be using her given name, instead “Agent Prentiss.” ‘I wasn’t entirely sure that this was the best course of action, under the circumstances, but it seems to have all worked out.’
Emily raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t exactly how she would have put it. If things had “worked out” she wouldn’t have been in Strauss’ office at all. If things had “worked out” she would have been in the bullpen, at her desk, doing paperwork. If things had “worked out” she wouldn’t have been staying with Morgan, or living out of a duffle bag. Six months ago, Emily might have made a scathing remark, but today, she didn’t.
The papers needed Hotch’s signature as well, so it was with a heavy heart that Emily made her way down to the BAU. She tried to make herself inconspicuous as she walked around the edges of the bullpen, but it seemed like someone had made a loudspeaker announcement of her presence.
Maybe she should have come in on the weekend.
‘How are you settling back in?’ Hotch asked, before he even looked at the form that she passed him.
‘Well until I get a new place, it’s going to be a little awkward,’ she admitted. ‘Derek’s been…far more accommodating than I could have hoped for, but I know that deep down he feels like I’ve betrayed him.’
Hotch nodded. The fact that the Unit Chief had been complicit in the lie regarding Emily’s death meant that he probably wasn’t exactly in Morgan’s good books either.
‘Are you sure this is what you want to do?’ he asked, gesturing towards the sheet of paper. ‘It doesn’t matter what happened, you know you still have a place on this team, if you want it.’
Unlike with Morgan, Emily didn’t appeal to Hotch’s fears. She gave it to him straight. ‘I don’t know if I can come back, Hotch. At least…not right away. I need to…I don’t know…Do something different for a while, I guess. Consider it an early retirement.’ She bit her lip. ‘And please don’t try to drag me to Milwaukee this time.’
Hotch smiled at that, and he signed the form without further questioning. ‘If you need anything…’ he said, and Emily got the idea that those words were going to be oft repeated ones over the next few days.