Emily relaxed against the booth in the bar of the hotel they were staying. She’d dropped her bag in her room and come down to find something to eat. She was used to eating little on cases, but there always came a time where there was no way she could ignore her stomach. She knew the team would be down momentarily. They liked to debrief at the end of the day, get caught up on the bits of the cases they hadn’t exactly been privy to. And after what she’d seen, she could really do with some team time.
Derek was the first one to join her. “Hey.”
She smiled at the way he eyed her glass. “Water’s supposed to be healthy.”
He chuckled. “Habit.”
“You’ve had a drink on a case.”
Derek shrugged. “Sometimes you just need the release.”
She knew that feeling. She blew out a breath.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked, even though he knew the answer she’d give.
“Fine.”
Derek considered her for a moment. Emily was a strong woman and he’d actually started to admire her ability to compartmentalize. In most cases, she was a virtual rock, but it would be inhuman to see what they had at that dumpsite and not be affected. She was saved from further interrogation by Agent Morrow’s appearance. She perched herself on the opposite side of Derek and Emily. Emily smiled, trying to make the gesture as welcoming as possible.
Agent Morrow’s shoulders didn’t relax. “Where is everyone?”
“Probably settling in,” Emily replied while Derek gave an indifferent shrug.
Sure enough, it wasn’t much longer before JJ and Reid wandered down. JJ sighed as she plopped down, stealing a few gulps of Emily’s water before signaling for another one. Four were promptly delivered to the talbe.
“So the Rays said Madeline was the perfect daughter,” JJ said. She glanced at Emily and Reid. “I was almost jealous you got to stay at the precinct.”
Morrow looked positively affronted that JJ had spoken about their case. “Aren’t we going to wait for Agent Hotchner.”
JJ cocked her head politely. “He did the interview with me,” she pointed out.
Emily jumped in. “I take it Madeline wasn’t as perfect as her parents thought?”
“The journal is just the beginning. Hotch and I virtually tore the woman’s apartment to shreds.”
“She lives with her parents, doesn’t she?” Reid asked.
JJ nodded. “Basement apartment. Pays them rent.”
“Her choice or theirs?” Emily asked. There was still something that still didn’t feel right about Madeline Ray’s disappearance.
“Hers,” JJ answered. “Said she wanted the responsibility.”
“Then why not move out completely?” Derek asked.
“Her journal talked about how her parents were suffocating her, stifling her independence. We were hoping to go over it tomorrow.”
Derek turned to Emily. “You’re on to something.”
Emily shook her head. “Maybe not. It just doesn’t really make sense.” She sighed, eyeing her water glass. “I’m going to get another glass. Anyone?” No one took her up on the offer so Emily made her way to the bar alone. It was busy, but with the way her mind was swirling, Emily didn’t mind the wait.
“You look exhausted.”
She smiled as she turned to face Aaron’s worried face. “I’ll be fine.”
Aaron just stood there waiting. They’d lived together for five months, he knew her better than that.
She sighed. “Something’s not right.”
“Stephanie Lite’s body?” She looked slightly chastised and he hid a smile. “Or Madeline Ray?”
“Madeline Ray,” Emily responded. “I don’t think she’s a kidnap victim.” She pinched her nose. “I could use with some sleep.”
“Go up to bed,” he suggested.
She shook her head. “I want to be here. I came back.”
He admired that she wanted to pull her own weight, but he’d rather her be a hundred percent in the morning rather than be there for the catch-up game. Still, she could be stubborn when she wanted to be. They made their way back to the table, JJ scooting over beside Reid to make room for them both.
“Stephanie Lite’s body showed up today,” Derek began with a brief nod at his boss.
“I heard. Stabbed to death.”
“ME counted 13 stab wounds at the time. Autopsy’s on rush so we should have the official number tomorrow.”
“I’ll monitor the media on that one. Right now, all the girls are missing. We’re going to have to talk to the families of the other victims,” JJ said, already typing it into her PDA.
“Statistically, none of these girls are alive,” Reid pointed out. “Most offenders don’t want to leave victims behind.”
“No one wants to leave witnesses,” Morrow said.
“Not true,” Reid disagreed, so deep in his thoughts that he missed the slightly condescending tone. “If a victim lives to tell, there’s attention in that.”
Emily cocked her head. “But then he dumps Stephanie Lite’s body deep in the woods, covers it up. That says he doesn’t want attention.”
“Then why take six girls?” Derek asked.
Emily felt her eyelids start to droop. She’d tried to cut back on the time of her naps, but she’d gotten so used to them, not having one made her utterly exhausted. Which was exactly how she was feeling now. She pinched her thigh, inadvertently brushing Aaron’s and watched him tense up. She resisted the urge to laugh, even as his foot knocked against hers in a subtle attempt to scold her.
Morrow shrugged, looking to all the world like she had the answers. “Taunting law enforcement.”
Emily winced. She hoped she hadn’t sounded that superior when she’d first started.
“But we just established he doesn’t want attention,” Reid almost squawked. “He hasn’t contacted us and hasn’t initiated contact with any sort of symbol left on the body.”
Aaron could tell Emily was fading fast. “We’ll pick it up tomorrow. Get some rest,” he ordered, leading by example and standing. The rest followed, though Aaron waited until Emily passed before following. He and Derek kept pace together and Aaron knew the African American man was keeping a close an eye on Emily as he was. He relaxed when Emily followed JJ into the room they were sharing. He sighed, hoping she would have a nightmare-less sleep.
She had no idea where she was. It was dark, damp and cold, that much she knew. It smelled like it felt, that indescribably dank smell that spoke of mould and moss. Her hands were tied behind her, ropes cutting into her wrists and probably rubbing blood onto the rope. It was burning and painful.
Something in front of her opened, blinding her with the sudden light. She whimpered with the intrusion, turning her face away, even as her eyes briefly made out the silhouette of a man.
“Come now,” he said, in a voice meant to be soothing. “Don’t be like that.” He came around, pulling her up. She screamed as she put weight on her right leg. The searing pain blinded her for a moment and she stumbled. It was that moment she saw the knife in his other hand.
He growled. “Come on, bitch. Get up.”
Fear pushed adrenaline through her body and helped her ignore at least the edge of the pain. She limped as fast as she could, trying to keep up with his rapid pace. She stumbled, once, twice, three times. The third time, he yanked her up by her hair.
“You’re useless.”
Then came the startlingly familiar pain in her left side, followed by the right, then the middle of her stomach. She tried to raise her arms, but they were still tied. She was utterly helpless and she was going to die. She was screaming, moaning, whimpering, feeling the blood seep out of her and the air leave her lungs.
She bolted upright with a start, panting heavily, her eyes wide with panic. She hadn’t for a second believed that the nightmares would go away simply because she was on a case, and really, she should have expected that they would actually become the case. Stephanie Lite had been tied up, one arm yanked out of her socket, a shattered ankle and kneecap.
Emily shuddered, wrapping her arms tighter around herself as she tried to remind her pounding heart that she wasn’t kidnapped. She was perfectly safe and sound in the hotel, in Sacramento, with the BAU. She glanced over at her roommate, pleased to see JJ was unfazed by her dreams.
She had her phone in her hand when the shadows threw a pattern on her wall and speed dialing when she heard footsteps down the corridor.
“Hotchner.”
Emily groaned mentally, hoping her breathing didn’t sound as harsh as it was. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to make sound come out.
“Emily?”
“Hi.” She wasn’t sure she’d meant to call, but felt marginally better at hearing his voice.
“Is everything okay?”
“I… um… I…” She could hear sheets rustling as he moved.
“I’ll leave the door unlocked.”
Emily didn’t think twice about the consequences the next morning. Jane Morrow wasn’t even on her radar as she sprung out of bed, cellphone still clutched in her hand, and almost ran the few steps to his door. Sure enough, as she pushed on it, the deadbolt had been turned to prop the door open. She pushed the door, stepping inside and turning the deadbolt back so the wood fully latched shut. She sagged into him as his arms wrapped around her from behind, spinning and burying her head in his shoulder.
Aaron didn’t know what to do. He hadn’t seen her this unstable because of her nightmare since the beginning. She’d been able to expressly differentiate between what was real and what wasn’t to put what wasn’t aside and focus on what was. Which, when he thought about it, sounded almost confusing in his head, but it was true. Emily was strong, she always had been.
But the woman shaking in his arms was anything but. Aaron tried everything he could to make the tremours dissipate. He stroked her back, her hair, whispered to her that she was fine and everything was okay, but to no avail. Her crying had stopped, but the shaking hadn’t.
Eventually she pulled away, though one hand was still fisted in his shirt at the base of his spine. “Sorry,” she murmured. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“You shouldn’t,” he agreed, even as he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. “Did you bring the t-shirt?”
Emily nodded, not meeting his gaze. “It didn’t smell like you when I put it on. I guess it was spending too much time in my bag.”
He nodded, one hand still stroking through her hair. “Come on.”
“We can’t,” she protested, even as she allowed him to pull her to the bed. She sat on the edge and watched him set the alarm for half an hour earlier than he needed to get up. “Aaron-“
“We need you at a hundred percent,” he said frankly, straight to the point. “Sleep.”
She did.