Guilty Pleasure

Fourteen: just once if i have a chance...

"Give peace a chance
let the fear fall away."
~Lana Del Rey

Emily

We soon were all dizzily dancing, chattering and laughing around. Rossi and Kristall had tears in their eyes, when a few of us hold our speeches. Fortunately we shared some emotional memories and thoughts before we were a slurring mess. It would have been a mixture of giggles and sobs otherwise.

Mostly laughter though.

"Where did you find the thing about twin flames?" Luke approached, drink in hand and sipping on it occasionally.

"It was pretty wasn't it?" He nodded quickly. "Rossi inspired me." I grinned at him, keeping the truth to myself and only there.

"Shit. You really won't tell me? Tara..." He growled, whilst strutting off and fiddling out a bill from his pocket. "You were right." He huffed in the distance and I took in how the woman he apparently lost a bet to yelled in victory.

No, I would not tell him what inspired me truly to write a speech as such. I probably would not even tell the someone who earned my creativity to bloom in such ways. 

My eyes traveled around the room and lingered on Jean for a little longer. Her hair was beginning to untie from the pins, so that a curl cradled down her neck. The shadow was bouncing just as that single strand. Half a cold blonde curl dangled in her neck. I would comb through her hair tonight, massaging the tension away and feeling the silky blonde hair between my fingers.

She did not pay attention to me or anyone besides the woman she talked to. It was greatly relieving to see her loosen up around people. Not only our team, but strangers too.

At the reminder of Jean, I recalled her request. Yes almost a plea to me. Finding her sister was nothing I could possibly have promised. There was nothing, at least from the things we had already tried, to find out about Annie Miller. She seemed nonexistent, apart from her being born. No death certificate, no reports. Nada.

What about Hotch? He was the reason for Jean to join us —to join me. With burning fingertips, I tapped my thigh. He knows the answers. He could give them to me. Jean's gaze swayed through the crowd and met mine and for just a petite moment she threw a questioning look at me, yet she softened immediately after and her shy smile shone through. I winked at her, knowing very well she'd blush and avert her eyes. She did and I, driven by desire slipped into the winter garden burner phone in hand.

Call him or call him not? Risk his safety or find peace? The answer was so obvious. There was no way in hell I would dare to risk the people I cared about.

And still I had already dialed the number to Alex Hopper and at the third ringing he had answered.

"...You know we can't talk again after this." Hotch's voice was quiet, as if he was a little boy who sat in a wardrobe and talked to a friend after midnight.

A feeling of familiarity came up at the sound of his words and I forced words over my lips. "What am I not seeing?"

There was silence for quite a moment, in which only our breathing was audible and my own heartbeat reached my head. The pounding grew noisier and noisier.

Every scenario ran through my head and I desperately hoped it to be nothing more but something easily solvable. Though, why would Hotch risk bringing in a connection to him? A risk of his own peace. The peace for Jack.

Though Hotch finally broke the growing tension. "Him." He whispered and a coldness creeped under my skin, an aching one. There were not many him's I feared to hear about. No him I was afraid of. "What's the one thing —the only thing and only one haunting you?" There was no time for me to answer him, since the man hung up soon after, with a last few words. "Take care. Of all of you."