criminalxminds | Fic: E.P.

Title: E.P.

Author: Sara Nublas

Character: Emily Prentiss main, all team involved

Rating: FRM

Summary: Emily deals with her ghosts after being back in the field with the team on a challenging case.

Warning: SPOILERS to Lauren (6x18), this story is the third part of my post-Lauren series which is organized as follows 1-Asteriscus hierochunticus, 2-What’s left of me, 3- E.P. The stories are posted on my profile and on my website

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters of the show ‘ Criminal Minds’, I’m just borrowing them. No infringement intended.

A/N: -thanks to miaa29 for poking my curiosity and setting my muse on this path

-No beta even for this story, but I'm always happy to read your comments

-Given that I’m not an expert in criminology or psychology, I profusely apologize if the profiling part in the following chapters is a mess. I tried to do my best to make it believable, so please, bear with me. Nonetheless I’m absolutely interested in any comment and suggestion you can provide :)

3.They receive the news of the fourth homicide the following afternoon.

They get to the house surrounded by police cars, two young agents are waiting for them on the doorsteps, their faces covered with frustration for getting too late and horror for the scene they just saw and will never forget.

Rossi, heading to talk to the detective, walks past them. He would really like to provide some comfort, they look like kids to him, but the truth is that there’s no much he can say to fuel their secret hope. No, it doesn’t get any easier; you just learn to cope with it.

As soon as they enter the room where the body lies on the bed, they are all struck by the contrast between the elegant, refined taste of the house and the vulgarity of the staged body turned into a cheap horrific doll. The haircut, the nail polisher, the lipstick make her look like a scarecrow, an image that differs strikingly from the woman portrayed in the picture on the bedside table.

A bottle of perfume lies broken on the floor, the sweet smell of rose and jasmine is filling the hair and mixing with the residues of smoke.

“He surprised her, but she was still able to put up a fight “Reid reconstructs the last moments of the victim’s life “he tied her and lit a smoke. He took his time” he looks for confirmation from the other profilers.

Morgan nods walking toward him “Yeah. Emily’s right, our unsub likes the foreplay, the victim’s fear gets him off. But still, why staging the body in such a humiliating way?”

The two profilers notice that Emily left the room and exchange a glance.

“How is she doing?” Reid asks in a whisper.

“Don’t know yet, but I’m keeping an eye on her. I guess we have to give her sometime” Morgan voices his hope, eyes desperately locked on the point where Emily was standing a minute before.

Reid remembers how hard his recovery has been after being held captive by Tobias Hankel; back in time he was in a familiar envirionment, surrounded by friends, safe from his torturer, but now that experience seems to him like a walk in the park compared to what Emily went through. He’s not sure he can share Morgan’s optimism; the illusion that time will heal may not apply to this situation. Sometimes you just can’t go back.

“Hei guys, take a look at this” Emily call them from the bathroom “He broke the mirrors and the light bulbs in this house as well, just like the other two times”

“The coroner said she was killed at approximately 2 pm this afternoon” Reid states “What’s the need to break the source of light, when it’s not even dark?”

“Then it’s part of his signature” Morgan concludes, I’ll ask Garcia to find out if there were other the homicides with a similar MO in the past” he says heading out.

“So, how’s my favorite secret agent doing back in the field?” Garcia asks before hanging up.

“She puts on the tough girl mask, but there’s something off with her and I’m not sure she should work this case” Derek admits his doubts to his friend.

“Why? What happened?”

“We are looking for an unsub who ties and tortures his victims, how do you like it for a déjà vu?”

“Do you think she can handle it?” her words come out slower, as if the weight of her anxiety is hampering her ability to formulate a consistent thought.

“I don’t know” Morgan surrender with a sigh after a pause “For sure it would help if she opened up with us instead of keeping everything inside. Gotta go now, baby girl” he shakes the frustration away and turns to Rossi, who has just finished talking to the neighbors.

“Worried about Prentiss?” the older agent asks.

“I’m not sure this is an easy case for her” Morgan answers.

“It’s not, and I think Hotch picked it on purpose to see how she handles the pressure” the older agent scrutinizes Morgan’s face while he clenches his jaw and swallows the objection that just came to his mind, ”Derek, I know it’s difficult but hovering constantly will not help her”

“So, what? We wait until she falls apart?” he snaps back “We’ve already lost two of our own this way, and the usual question after they left was whether we could have done something more…”

“This time is different. We’re all keeping an eye on Emily. And we’re all worried. What I’m saying is that choking her with our attention is not doing any good to her and to the case. Now let’s go get this guy” he finally encourage walking back to the crime scene.

Inside the house Emily wonders through the rooms, trying to figure this unsub out. So sloppy and accurate, so in control and deranged at the same time. How does he choose them? Why does he beat and then stage them?

She turns around in frustration; the smell of cigarette makes Emily crave for a smoke, she quitted years ago, but Ellen didn’t.

Ellen Payton is a mess of her own. Half artist, half thief; always in troubles, always behaving nonchalantly about that. She walks through life with that smile of indifference typical of who just doesn’t care, because she knows in someway she will always fall on her feet.

She’s standing in front of a pole table, cigarette in one hand and stick in the other when Bill approaches her. He’s all nerves and bones covered with tattoos; his dark eyes filled with greed and his rapacious face remind her of a vulture. Bill knows a guy, who knows a guy, who knows another guy and at the end of this lovely chain of acquaintances there’s a forger, that’s why Ellen is here.

She needs a new identity, one that official channels cannot track, one that she can use to do the dirty job without raising suspicions, and tonight Bill is her gateway to that anonymity.

The deal is that if she wins the game he’ll introduce her directly to the forger skipping the long chain of intermediate contacts; Ellen doubts things are going to be that smooth but opts to play along, she prefers trying the diplomatic way before threatening the family jewels with a gun.

Ellen is one of the most dangerous alias I’ve used, after Lauren of course. She’s a loose cannon and I never really feel comfortable in her skin, you know where you start, but you never know where you’re gonna end; usually in an ugly place.

After a while I get tired of Bob’s ogling “You know that in order to get somewhere with this game you should try to keep your eyes on the table. Don’t you?” I suggest him flirtatiously, barely able to stop a retching; even Ellen has her limits.

“Sorry, honey” he smiles apologetically “but I can’t help admiring the piece of fine art on your… heart… “He grins with voracity “A four leaf clover… I didn’t imagine you were part of some Irish fan club” he mocks me.

“My ex-boyfriend was” I answer not losing the concentration on the game, pushing away the memories of my last encounter with Doyle.

“And what happened?” I can feel his eyes on me, his perverted mind fantasizing about scenarios I don’t even want to imagine.

“I flushed his engagement ring and it didn’t take it very well..” I carry on with a flat tone.

“So he branded you?” he becomes more interested, even excited. A rare and well-preserved specimen of Cro-Magnon, ladies and gentlemen.

“He wanted to give me something I couldn’t get rid of that easy…” I answer while I sink the eight ball.

“And now what are you gonna do?” he asks me, avid.

“I’m going to find him and place a bullet in his head” I grab my money from the table and get closer to Bill “and, unless you don’t want to get stuck in the middle of this, you will take me to your friend forger and forget about me” I respond in kind while closing the distance.

He slightly startles and his nostrils flare when he feels the barrel of the gun at his groin.

Emily walks again in the room with the feeling she’s missing something she shouldn’t. This unsub is patient, methodic, his MO is nearly amateurish but also well studied; he does what he does for a reason so what’s the point of disfiguring them? Is he humiliating them? Is he punishing them? Is he...

“Emily, we have to go” Rossi’s voice takes her back from her thoughts.

She turns to him wide eyes “He’s branding them…” she blurts out, like if she just woke up from a dream.

Rossi looks back at her, oblivious to the uncanny path her mind has been following “What did you just say?”