always been mine - emily prentiss x reader

chapter thirty // stonebrook

april 25: HOLY FUCK 1K READS WTF TYSM

i truly truly appreciate this so much, a month ago when i started this story i didn't think my writing was any good or that anyone would read it and this means so much, thank you for all the support

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JJ stopped you and Emily before you could head out of the office. The last case, from which you'd all just returned, was especially rough for her. Someone was killing cops in New Orleans; Will knew all of them. Hotch told her to take some time and to go with Will back to Louisiana for the funerals.

"Y/N," she said to get your attention. You and Emily turned around. "How are you?"

"I'm really okay, JJ. I should be asking you,"

"I'm, I'm okay. But I, uh, I'm gonna go to New Orleans with Will. Can you, I'm sorry, could you guys do me a favor?"

"Anything," Emily said, nodding.

"Yeah, anything, JJ," you agreed. JJ tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Could you guys watch Henry while we're away? I don't want him to have to go with us, that's a lot even for an adult, let alone a little boy,"

"Of course," you answered with a kind expression. "Don't even worry,"

"Thank you guys so much. I'll, I'll let you know more later, okay? Just let me talk to Will first,"

"No, of course. Take your time," Emily hugged her, then you took your turn, and you headed out.

  -

"Adam Stonebrook, FBI, put the gun down!" 

You had him. You'd signaled that you were fine. But now that Emily had blown it, you had a choice. Pull your gun or put your hands up too, still pretending to be a scorned mistress of an officer. You tried to back up to draw your weapon, but Stonebrook lunged and grabbed your arm. Your gun clattered on the floor, and his grip tightened. You kicked your gun away.

"Fucking Fed?!" he shouted. Your facial muscles tightened, keeping you stone-faced with your eyes on him. He stayed on a swivel, switching between pointing it at you and pointing at Emily and Morgan. He pulled you by your arm, his grip making your arm ache. Your heart pounded as he held the gun to your temple. "I'll blow her brains out," he threatened.

"You don't have to do that, Adam — look." Morgan holstered his gun and put his own hands up. "Let her go,"

"She's...a fucking...cop!" He shook with every phrase, gripping you tighter. His fingernails dug into your upper arm. "She deserves to die, fucking pig,"

"No, she doesn't, Adam, put the gun down!" Emily said. Her gun was still on him. His left arm tightened around your neck, and a strangled outcry left your throat.

"They're gonna throw me in prison anyway,"

"And that's gonna be a lot longer if you kill a federal agent." Your wife shook her head. "Let her go, Adam." His arm loosened, allowing air into your lungs, and his hand returned to your arm. Morgan was inching closer to him, slow steps towards his gun, keeping his hands up. Adam's fingernails drew blood. Neither of the men were watching you, but you made desperate eye contact with Emily. She promised you, without using a word, that you would get out of this. 

Morgan was about to take the gun from Stonebrook when he fired, hitting Morgan's vest at point-blank range. Morgan fell to the floor. Adam backed away, pulling you with him. The rest of the team was a block away, with a SWAT unit ready just outside the house. Move in, Hotch said. You couldn't hear it as you didn't have an earpiece in, but Emily and Derek both yelled, "No!"