Emily sat down heavily on the bed, utterly exhausted. Hotch had sent the team back to the hotel to get some rest whilst he negotiated with Morris and Strauss. She didn't know why; to her sleep seemed impossible, despite the fatigue that plagued her- both mental and physical. Blake followed her into the room. She and Blake were sharing a room, as were Morgan and Reid, and Rossi and Hotch.
"Are you okay?" asked Blake, sitting down next to her. Emily just looked at her. "You're right," Blake said with a wry smile, "stupid question. Do you want to talk about it?"
"No… Yes… I don't know…" Emily murmured, not really sure. She sighed. No. She was Emily Prentiss. Queen of Compartmentalization, High Priestess of Keeping-your-emotions-in-check. "No, you take first shower. I'll be fine, really" She said reassuringly as Blake squeezed her shoulder and nodded.
Alex had expected as much. Emily never talked about JJ's disappearance, or the circumstances leading up to it. "Okay, well if you ever need to talk, I'm here for you." Emily smiled as she grabbed her wash bag and headed to the bathroom.
Emily waited until the bathroom door was locked and she could hear the shower running before reaching for her go-bag and digging straight to the bottom. She pulled out a tattered old case file. JJ's case file. The edges of the pages were worn and soft, smoothed by countless openings and turns of the pages.
Emily had learned over the last few years that you didn't need a brain like Reid's to memorize files perfectly; you just had to keep reading that file over and over again, scouring it for some detail you missed that last hundred times you read it, desperate to find something, anything, that could help you find your friend.
She opened the file and felt that familiar pang of grief and guilt. She traced her finger lightly over the small photograph that was paper clipped to the first page. Seeing her best friend smiling back at her was all it took to break the dam. She sniffed and quickly wiped away the tears that escaped her eyes but soon gave in as memories of the day everything changed came flooding back to her.
Something was wrong. She didn't know for sure but she couldn't deny the niggling doubt that gnawed at her. She had been in Paris for two months and since her arrival, every other day, like clockwork, she and 'Cheetobreath' played scrabble. The two hours of dialogue were about all that were keeping her sane.
It had been 5 days since their last game, and Prentiss was now on edge. She jumped as the phone rang. Then felt a short stab of panic. It was the phone. The one JJ had given her, that only she and Hotch had the number for, only to be used in an absolute emergency. Taking a deep breath to calm her breathing, she picked up. "Prentiss" She said smoothly. It felt good to say her name again.
"Emily." It was Hotch. "It's so good to hear your voice." He breathed, relief permeating his tone. She too, found a strange relief in hearing his voice after so long, even if it wasn't quite the same business-like voice that she remembered; she could hear a small hint of fear at its edge, but a hint was more than enough to put her on high alert.
"Hotch. What's going on? Is JJ okay?"
"You know?" Hotch said in disbelief. If Emily hadn't been afraid before she sure as hell was now.
"What? No, I don't. But we've been out of contact for 5 days. It's not like her. Hotch, tell me she's okay." Emily spoke at a hundred miles an hour, panic edging into her voice.
"She's gone, Emily. She's been missing for three days."
"What do you mean, gone? Oh God, it's Doyle isn't it? He got to her."
"We don't know that for certain, we've only just confirmed that she's missing. That said, it is a distinct possibility. In which case it would be best to assume that you are no longer safe in Paris."
