𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ

     𝐍𝐨𝐚𝐡 storms out of the room and straight to the stairwell. She swings the door open and makes her way down the flights of stairs to the first floor. She throws the door open and feels cold air hit her skin. She breathes it in and walks further into the night as her hands scrunch her hair.

The teen brings her hands down to her face, covering her mouth. Everything that happened is now hitting her with the weight and pace of a train. She can't believe that she sat in front of him, that he's finally caught and she got the last word. She spent months wishing for everything that's happened today, but for some reason, she still feels helpless.

The fear of turning every corner is still there, the dread of having another nightmare sits in her mind, and the sorrow of losing her mother still weighs on her shoulders. It feels like everything and nothing has changed. Even when she looks at Emily, she sees her mother, but also a woman she's never met before. And when looking at the team, she sees the people who held her up, but also some of those who lied to her.

Noah's hands ball into fists as her body lowers to the ground, her knees buckling beneath her. She can barely stand on her own, and she hasn't in months. She carried her grief with other people, leaning on them until she found her balance again. Of course, when she felt like she was seeing progress, her entire world got knocked off its axis again.

There, with nothing left to give, she sits on the ground, crying to herself. She lets herself break, her heart like glass falling to the ground, but trusting no one to pick up its pieces.

Emily stands in the observation room, glaring at Ian. It hurts her more than anyone could ever understand that she can't reverse everything. But even if she could, she would never take back her life with Noah, no matter how broken.

"Agent Prentiss?" a voice pulls her attention away from Ian to the doorway, where Anderson's head pokes in. "There's a situation in the lobby that they need you for."

Emily furrows her brows and follows him to the elevator. They make their way down to the lobby and she walks around to the front desk, hearing arguing echoing throughout the large area.

"I know you know who I am! Can you please call the BAU!"

Emily's eyes widen as she rushes to the front desk. "Jess?"

Jess whips her head and sees Emily standing to the side. Her arguments are immediately silent as her eyes widen, not believing what she's seeing. The blood drains from her face as she sees a face that she thought was gone forever. She couldn't remember the last time she saw Emily's face, and she didn't think she'd have a second chance to memorize it.

"Holy shit," she mutters.

"What's going on?" Emily asks.

"That's a great question," the blonde replies sharply. "Where's Noah? Did they take her phone again?"

"She's with me," Emily says to the woman at the front desk, who was on the verge of calling security. "You can come upstairs, but we can't talk about this here."

"Is that where Noah is?"

"She stormed off, I—"

"I need to talk to her."

"I think she's just taking a breather, but I can—"

"I'll only talk to her," Jess corrects her words, looking hard into Emily's eyes.

Emily remains quiet, feeling overwhelmed by the bitter tone from both her daughter and Jess. She shakes her head, not having an answer as to where Noah is. Jess realizes they've walked past the security clearance and decides to take her chance.

"I'll find her myself," she mumbles and walks off.

Anderson moves to grab her, but Emily stops him. "Just let her go. She won't cause any trouble."

"But ma'am—"

"She needs her more than she needs me."

Emily watches Jess stride down the hall, her heart sinking as she feels like she's failing as a mother. The thousand worries and doubts she had before suddenly seem to be coming true. Noah is pushing her away and there's nothing she can do about it.

Outside, Noah is sitting on the concrete, her head buried between her chest and legs. She hears the side door burst open with the same intensity as she swung it open before. She lifts her head, catching sight of the blonde whom she calls her own.

"Jess?" her voice is almost breathless.

"Noah," Jess sighs softly. "I saw her, I..."

"Yeah," Noah replies quietly.

Jess doesn't say another word, knowing it's not what Noah needs right now. Nothing anyone can say could make it better. Instead, the blonde kneels beside her girlfriend and wraps her arms tightly around her. She holds Noah's head to her chest, allowing the sound of her heartbeat to bring any ounce of comfort that it can.

Noah feels numb from all of the emotions that she's experienced. It's been seven long months of crying, grieving, and feeling like she's slowly dying. Her body is hollow, her eyes have dried up, and her mind is using all its strength to grasp onto the ground. Without it, she feels so empty that she could float into the air and be whisked away.

"It was all a game," Noah says, her voice void of emotion. "A fucking waste."

"What was a waste?" Jess asks as she pulls back to look at Noah's face.

"All the grieving, crying, anger, looking for Doyle. It was all a waste of my time!"

"It wasn't a waste," Jess assures her. "You thought she was dead. I would do the same, anyone would."

"But I shouldn't have had to."

"I know," Jess says as she cradles Noah's cheeks. "I know, love."

"Everything that I felt, it was all for nothing. I must have looked so stupid—"

"To who?" Jess questions. "We all thought she was dead."

"Not Hotch and JJ," Noah says as she shakes her head. "They knew."

"Well, screw them. You don't owe them anything. Listen to me," Jess says with strength in her tone, lifting Noah's head so their eyes can meet. "You thought she was dead, so you grieved. There is nothing stupid about that. Do not let anyone make you think otherwise."

The piercing green eyes meet Noah's blues, steady and unrelenting, as though willing to comfort her without a word. Jess knows she can't let Noah break. The hope of forgiveness she assumes Emily's team is pushing for isn't just unfair; it's cruel. They don't understand, can't understand, what Noah has been through. The anger, the pain, the heavy weight she carries—it's a burden no one should ever have to navigate. Jess refuses to let her drown under the pressure of those expectations, deserving more than apologies and attempted reconciliations. And deep down, Jess knows she'll fight for that, even if it means standing alone, but at least they'd stand alone together.

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮

"Forgetting the international ties for a minute, what would these unsubs do?" Aaron asks his team as they all sit around the table.

"You know, statistically, the abduction of a child by its mother, no matter the psychological disposition of the said mother, would be one of low risk to her child," Spencer spouts information like usual.

"She's got plenty of connections, she could go underground," Derek reminds them.

"Is there anywhere in the U.S. where Chloe and Doyle had a history?" Dave suggests.

Penelope types away on the keyboard of her laptop, looking into any possible connections to pin a location. "No, but they do have a lot of ties in Europe."

Emily rushes into the room, holding the paper that Ian had written on. "Noah got Doyle to come up with associates of Chloe's who have healthy bank accounts."

Penelope looks up from her laptop, analyzing Emily as best she can as the non-profiler of the group. Knowing that her daughter had to face a man like Ian must have been terrifying. Penelope wonders if either of them will ever catch a break, or if they'll ever have the fairytale ending that she's dreamed of for them.

"He thinks it's a trade?" JJ asks, pulling Penelope back into the game.

"For what?" Penelope questions. "Weapons? Drugs?"

"Does it matter?" Emily replies shortly.

"Garcia, run these names," Aaron says as he hands Penelope the list of associates. "See if any have local connections."

"Yeah, what else should I be looking for?"

"Secluded properties," Dave says.

"A legitimate business that requires international bank accounts and trade," Derek joins in.

"It could be mundane," Spencer interjects as well. "They survive under the radar."

"Garcia, start with Irish backgrounds," Derek adds another suggestion. "This type of feud could go back generations."

Penelope types all of the details into her system, pulling up an image of a man and a supporting article that connects him to Ian. "It looks like the Doyle's and the McDermott's have a thing."

"What kind of thing?" Derek questions.

"Ian Doyle murdered Jimmy McDermott, but his younger brother, Lachlan, owns an 'import company,'" Penelope says as she shows quotation marks with her fingers, suggesting that it's a front for something illegal.

"Do they ship internationally?" Aaron asks.

"You know it," Penelope confirms. "He has three warehouses, one of which is slated to be demolished."

"Where?" Aaron asks.

"Inner Harbor, Baltimore."

"Let's go," the Chief says, making everyone stand from their seats and prepare to make the drive to Baltimore. "You're staying," he says to Emily.

"But, I—"

Aaron stops her by pointing to the visitor sticker on her shirt. "You're staying."

Emily's shoulders fall in disappointment as she watches the team prepare to leave. Spencer offers to stay with her, partially for his own well-being. He can't wrap his head around the fact that Emily is alive, feeling like he wasted time, having made himself vulnerable to his friends over something that wasn't real.

Beside him, Emily feels helpless, feeling guilty about her decisions. She wonders if she should have stayed, risked her life and offer for protection to take care of her daughter. Maybe that's what sets her apart from other mothers, her inability to make the best decision. She's failed her daughter before and now she's made the same mistake again. How is it possible that she's made it worse?

𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳

Emily cautiously enters the round table room, seeing Noah and Jess sitting beside one another. The two are talking in murmurs, but the room goes silent as Emily's steps become audible. Noah turns around and makes eye contact with her mother, but turns back around without missing a beat.

Jess glances at Emily, acknowledging the expression on her face. She can see the sadness in her eyes, the longing to be close to Noah, but knowing that she can't. Jess has been in her position once before, wanting to comfort Noah, but knowing it will push her away. But, then again, Jess would never lie to Noah, especially not to that degree.

"Hey," Jess says as she reaches out to grasp Noah's hand in hers. "I should go. And you should stay. But don't forget what I said, alright?"

Noah's eyes plead for her to stay, but Jess softly shakes her head.

The blonde smiles briefly and squeezes her girlfriend's hand. She stands up, looking at Emily and biting her tongue. She sees Anderson standing in the doorway, allowing him to escort her back to the lobby.

"Can I sit?" Emily asks her daughter.

Noah doesn't reply, but gestures to the chair Jess was sitting in.

Emily takes the seat before Noah can change her mind. "The team went to look for Gerace. They think he's at a warehouse where he conducted business before. Declan should be with him, and we think his mother is in charge."

"Why would she do that?" Noah asks. "Wouldn't she just take him and run?"

"We don't think it's Declan that she wants."

Noah eyes Emily with a hard expression. "She wants money?"

"Probably."

Noah tuts and rests her arms on the table, running one of her hands through her hair.

"We wouldn't have gotten that information without you," Emily says softly. "What you did in there...I don't know how you did it."

"I've spent my whole life pretending," Noah shrugs. "Putting on a face, pretending I'm not mad, concealing everything so I don't get punished. I guess a part of me should thank Gia for that."

Emily bites the inside of her cheek from saying something that will upset Noah. How can she preach that Gia was any better than her after everything she's done?

"Honestly, I don't really know what to say," Noah blurts out. "I don't know how to describe how mad I am, or how sad I was. There are no words for this, none that will justify what you all did to me."

"I can wait for them," Emily mutters. "The words. I can wait for them, no matter how long it takes."

"I just need time," the teen replies. "I need to wait until everything you say doesn't make me furious."

Emily feels the sharp words stab further into her chest. She swallows the pain and nods, forcing herself to accept Noah's request.

She peers into her daughter's eyes, which avoids hers. Emily has always prided herself on being able to read people, perfecting the art of profiling, making her an outstanding agent. But now, as a mother, the only thing she can see when she looks at her daughter is a wall. One that she built brick by brick when she decided to blindly follow the decision that was made for her.

Noah takes a deep breath before forcing herself to meet her mother's eyes. The moment their gaze locks, it feels like a blade twisting deep in her chest, cutting her open with every second she doesn't look away. Emily's love is undeniable, overwhelming—a love that once felt like the safest place in the world, but now, it feels suffocating and heavy with betrayal. But Noah still loves her back with everything she has. It's the type of love that makes it unbearable, that makes her feel like she has to push it away, as if rejecting it is the only way to protect herself from drowning in it.

"I don't have to tell you," Noah whispers as her chin quivers, but she bites down on her cheek until she tastes blood.

"No," Emily says with a breath. She wants to touch Noah's hand, but resists the urge, standing so she can give Noah space, knowing that it's not fair to watch her daughter cry. "I'll be in the observation room."

Emily's footsteps feel like she has weights tied to her ankles. She enters the observation room, feeling a vicious need for revenge. She thought she'd never stoop to his level, but she's almost ready to throw the towel in, taking what she should have years ago, giving Noah the closure she needs to feel at peace.

Spencer walks into the room, standing beside her once again. "The team made it, they're investigating now."

Emily doesn't take her eyes away from Ian. "I'm sorry, Spencer."

The doctor glances over at her. It used to be rare for someone to take him by surprise, but Emily defied the odds. It's what hurts the most, knowing that his friends went behind his back, and he didn't sense it. They played him like he was one of their unsubs.

Spencer's phone suddenly rings and he picks it up, listening for a moment before turning to Emily. "Gerace is dead," he says as he hangs up the phone. "And Declan disappeared. They had him at the warehouse, but now they're gone."

Spencer walks straight into the interrogation room and tells Ian what's going on. This time, the frustration gets the better of him and Spencer declares that they should give Chloe what she wants, which is Ian himself. The man doesn't put up much of a fight and Spencer doesn't give him much time to.

Emily's face falls and she bursts into the interrogation room, immediately protesting. "No, we're not letting him out of here, Reid."

"Emily, I will chain myself to him if I have to."

"He'll find a way to escape," Emily states.

"No, he won't and we're running out of time. If we find McDermott now, we have a chance to save Declan," Spencer snaps, his confidence never faltering. "What if it was Noah?"

The silence is deafening. If it were Noah, Emily would trade Ian in a second, even if it meant the possibility of him running loose. She glares at the man sitting at the table, his hands cuffed. Her mind runs through every worst-case scenario that could happen, simultaneously creating solutions for all of them.

If it were Noah, she would do anything.

Emily strides out of the room and makes a beeline for Strauss' office. They'll need a green light from her to justify their actions. Once Emily convinces Strauss, the next in the chain of command is Noah, the one person they're all fighting so hard to make this right for.

In the bullpen, word has spread of the BAU's next move. Noah watches through the window of the round table room as everyone shuffles around and seems to prepare themselves.

"What's going on?" Noah asks as her mother enters the room, looking disheveled.

"We're getting Declan."

"Why do you need every agent in the building?"

"Because we're trading Doyle for him," Emily says outright.

Noah furrows her brows and shakes her head. "No, no, you can't do that. You're gonna give him to them? You're gonna give them what they want?"

"We don't have a choice, it's the only way—"

"No, no way!"

"Noah—"

"After everything, months of searching for him, we're just gonna give him away?! And they're gonna what? Kill him?! What if this is all a rouse to get him out?" Noah asks with furrowed brows.

"Trust me, I'm on your side," Emily says softly. "But Doyle tortured her, forced her to have Declan. The fact that she's so willing to take her own child should be proof enough that she'll have no mercy for him."

Noah gazes into her mother's eyes, searching for the truth. It used to be easy to find, but now it feels like a puzzle. Emily oddly feels like a stranger to Noah, leaving the teen confused as to what to believe.

"I know I don't have a decision," Noah mutters. "Do whatever you want, Emily."

Emily watches her daughter turn away, her back stiff with unspoken anger and pain. Each step Noah takes feels like another chasm opening between them, widening the distance Emily is desperate to close. Her instincts scream to go after her, to say something—anything—that might ease the ache in her daughter's heart. But she doesn't move. Not yet.

𝗮𝗻 𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿

Emily leans back in the passenger seat of the SUV, her gaze piercing through the blacked-out window. The city passes by, the very streets she once called home that became a place she had to miss. All the new shops, the places that are now permanently closed, the installation of a new traffic light that wasn't there before. It reminds her that everything moved on while she was gone, and she did miss out on things, especially the last seven months of her daughter's life.

Spencer drives the car quickly through the city, checking the rearview mirror for the truck holding Doyle. As they speed by Emily and JJ's favorite coffee place, she feels something in the pit of her stomach. At first, it's anger that JJ let her go along with it, and then it's understanding, knowing that JJ would do the same thing to keep her son safe.

She remembers a conversation that they had as JJ accompanied her on the flight to Paris.

𝗳𝗹𝗮𝘀𝗵𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸

Emily sits with her legs curled up and a blanket around her like a child. "The first thing I'm doing when I get to Paris is having this thing removed," she says, referring to the branding on her chest, as she covers her skin with the blanket. "How could a brand hurt more than getting staked?"

"Maybe it's a psychosomatic itch you're scratching?" JJ suggests as she looks into Emily's tired, dark eyes. "The brand left an emotional toll. Doyle established dominance over you by marking you as his, the stake—I mean, you overcame death. The ultimate victory over your foe. Why suffer a pain you're proud of?"

"It doesn't feel like a victory," Emily mutters as her eyes hover shut, every now and then making sure that she can still remember everything about Noah.

"It won't until you see her again," JJ warns her. "But when you do, you know you'll be safe. It will all be over and you two can start over."

"We shouldn't have to," Emily sighs. "She shouldn't have to start over again."

"You can't punish yourself for things that were out of your control, Emily."

"It was in my control—"

"If you had done anything differently, you would have never known her," JJ reminds her as she looks into Emily's eyes, making sure that she's listening. "Or you could have never had her—she wouldn't exist. All those people she's touched, they wouldn't know her. The strong, smart, passionate girl who's going to take over the world someday. And it needs her, even though all she wants is her mother."

"Yeah, and I'm on a plane to Paris while that girl is choosing what kind of casket to put me in."

"I said she was strong, didn't I?"

"Do you think she'll hate me?"

"Never," JJ assures her. "I don't think anything could ever make her hate you."

"But will she forgive me? Will she still love me?" Emily asks, her voice faltering. "She just met her father, who I tried so hard to keep her away from, and I'm gone. I keep thinking of all the different waves she's going to go through and then it hits me that I won't be there for any of them."

"We'll all be there for her."

"I'm scared that she'll think I'm like him," Emily mutters. "A liar, just another part of her life that sucks."

"She wouldn't think that. She knows better than that."

"What if I'm abandoning her when she needs me most? We see these things happen all the time. The parents abandon their child, it changes their brain chemistry, and they become angry and overwhelmed—" Emily stops herself as she sighs. "It's exactly what happened to her father."

JJ shakes her head as she reaches out to hold Emily's hand. "She's nothing like him."

"That's not really true," Emily says with a frown, biting the inside of her cheek to conceal her emotions. "Every time she would look at me with those blue eyes, it was like I could feel him staring. But it wasn't the bad side of him, it was the good side. The side of him that made me genuinely laugh. The side that, if I had lost sight of the job, I might've fallen for. He was charming, knew how to make a joke, even if it wasn't the right time, and he was thoughtful, he always knew the right thing to say or do. Even if his intentions were fake or to save himself, he still always knew."

"Could you ever see Noah doing the things that he's done?"

Emily furrows her brows and subtly shakes her head. "No."

JJ leaves it at that, proving her point. Emily feels guilt in the silence, wondering if she's crazy for ever seeing anything kind in Ian. She saw beyond the monster, but what he created because of her naïveté has now destroyed her little girl's life. It's broken her trust and shattered the relationship she worked so hard to nurture back to life.

"You could always get another tattoo," JJ interrupts the silence, making Emily laugh softly. "Something transformative, like, a phoenix," she chimes as she gestures to a phoenix spreading its wings through the ashes.

Emily shows an expression of uncertainty.

"Or a blackbird," JJ suggests.

"I love the song, but something tells me I shouldn't tread near waters," Emily says, eyeing the blonde, but getting nothing in return. "C'mon, JJ, something's obviously different about you. You commandeered an Interpol jet, you're profiling me. Why didn't you say your transfer was a backstop?" she asks but furrows her brows as she recognizes JJ's expression. "I know that look. The I-can't-trust-anyone-but-myself look? Yeah, I invented it."

"Do you ever feel like you're in way over your head?" the blonde asks, watching as her friend nods. "I got assigned to an information hunt. Instead, I'm chasing an unsub who killed my informant."

"What would Hotch tell you to do?"

"Focus on victimology, let behavior lead the way," JJ answers.

"Exactly. Who did your unsub kill?"

"The one person I was getting through to."

"Why?"

"Because I was getting through to..." she trails off as realization dawns. "I was getting through to her. What if she was about to expose her killer? Someone on the inside."

"Sounds like it's time for you to be the blackbird and flip the script," Emily says with a slight smile in the corner of her lips.

It falls into a frown again, and she turns her head to avoid eye contact with JJ. Even in the darkest moments, she finds a way to help those that she loves. Emily was the dark horse of the team, always surprising those around her, but this time it feels like it went too far. Everyone knows her past, it's been aired out to the most important people in her life for them to judge. She just hopes that what was in the past finally stays in the past, never to be dug out again.

"Will it take you back?" Emily asks, hoping that JJ won't leave again.

"No," JJ says with a shake of her head, but it's somewhat uncertain. "I'll make sure she gets what she needs. And she'll be waiting for you to come back."

"Except she won't know it," Emily mutters.

"Maybe that's better. You know Noah, she'd try to find him herself or somehow get to Paris and track you down. She thinks like an agent already."

Emily chuckles at the statement, shaking her head at her daughter's inherited stubbornness. "I'm just gonna miss her. Those eyes, her humor, our quiet nights at home, and just having her around. You know, I used to be afraid that I would be alone forever. No one would ever adjust to my work schedule or understand what the job means to me. But then I found her, and she was always waiting for me at home, whether she liked it or not. And no matter how heavy the case was, it would all disappear, and it was just me and her."