A/N: This is my Prentiss entry for the CM Ladies Writing Contest that is being co-hosted by the-vampire-act and hudson911. Check out their profiles for more details…

NOTE: The parts in italics are modern day, the rest is a flashback to Emily's last day on the job and what happened to make her leave…

Also, if you're interested in my take on JJ's last day, take a look at my JJ entry, Of Pictures and Parties.

DISCLAIMER: Of course I don't own Criminal Minds. If I did Hotch would be with Prentiss, Morgan and Garcia would finally have given into temptation and poor Reid would have someone to love him! Oh, to dream…

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"Emily? Emily sweetheart, you have some visitors."

"Visitors?" The word tasted strange on her tongue. She didn't think she'd ever had visitors here before, apart from that woman who called herself her mother and ran from the room in tears after five minutes of Emily staring blankly at her without recognition.

"Yes, some friends of yours," the nurse explained kindly. She had soft auburn curls and she smelled like soap. Emily breathed in her familiar aroma as she rose unsteadily to her feet. "Now, we've discussed this before, remember? What do you say when you see your visitors for the first time?"

Emily grinned widely; she knew this one. She patted down the wild tangle of unbrushed hair that hung in lank curtains around her face and drew herself up to her full height. With a knowing wink, she beamed at the nurse. Barbara? Becky? It got fuzzy sometimes.

"Hi there," she recited carefully in her best bright, polite tone of voice. Beth, that was the pretty nurse's name. "My name is Emily Prentiss and I am fifteen years old."

The nurse named Beth sighed heavily. She shouldn't really have expected anything else from the skittish woman with the raven black hair. When Dr Wallace had assigned her to Emily, he had briefed her on why she was here. She knew Emily's back story inside out, and after what had happened to bring her to this place, it was no wonder she was still trapped in this fantasy…

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She was Emily Prentiss, fifteen years old and scared to death, with a life growing inside her.

No, she was Supervisory Special Agent Emily Prentiss, 38, and had the uncanny ability to compartmentalize better than most.

John was yelling at her about how they had been so stupid and Matthew was telling him to lay off her.

No, Reid was gabbling statistics in the back seat of the SUV and Morgan was growling at him, telling him to shut the hell up so he could concentrate on driving.

She was crying in the confessional as Fr Gamino shouted, crying and-

"Hey Prentiss, you alright?"

"I- what?"

"I asked if you were alright. You haven't told Reid to shut up the whole drive."

Reluctantly, Emily opened her eyes to see Morgan shooting her concerned glances from behind the steering wheel. She could feel Reid's eyes boring into the back of her head, too. A deep scarlet blush swept across her cheeks.

"I-I'm fine. This case just brings back a lot of memories, that's all."

She kept her voice determinedly nonchalant, but she knew her fellow profilers would be left unconvinced by her mediocre acting. To distract them, she dialled Garcia's number once more.

"You have reached the Queen of Fabulosity, what can I do for you my poor, ucultured moppet?"

"Hey Garcia," Emily said, attempting to smile. "Any ideas where we're headed yet?"

She heard the clatter of keys in the background as Garcia worked her magic. There was a couple of moments of silence broken only by the snapping of the funky tech analyst's pink bubblegum. Then Garcia gave a little 'Oh' of contentment.

"Alright, my pretties," she said happily. "It looks like Fr Conway has a bible studies meeting right now at the community centre."

"He doesn't know we're on to him," Reid piped up reasonably. "He should still be there."

Morgan hung a sharp left and drove at breakneck speed down the narrow street, barely avoiding an irate pedestrian who shot him the finger. In the back seat, Reid was in contact with Hotch and Rossi in the other car. He was speaking even faster than normal, which always happened when they were closing in on an UnSub, and ignoring the two agents in the front seat. As Morgan pulled to an abrupt stop outside the tall, thin community centre, he leaned across the gearstick and put a firm hand on Emily's shoulder.

"Prentiss, you know that if this case is too much for you, you can step out at any time."

"Yeah," Emily said, unsure where he was going with this. "I know."

"Well…" Morgan trailed off awkwardly. He lowered his voice and it became surprisingly gentle. "Maybe you should consider it."

"What? Morgan, I appreciate your concern, but I'm absolutely fine. Really," she added since he was looking unconvinced. "I'm fine Morgan. Now let's go apprehend this asshole."

She clambered out of the SUV before Morgan could say another word. The other two headed straight for the door, but Emily paused for a moment to get her bearings. In spite of what she had said to Morgan, she was feeling the strain of this case. It brought so many memories from her past back to the surface, memories she thought she had finally laid to rest when Matthew Benton was killed. Apparently not.

This priest, this Fr Conway, reminded her so much of Fr Gamino in Rome. Obsessed with his strict beliefs, determined to follow the Church's commandments to the letter. Just like Fr Gamino, he was strongly opposed to abortions. When he discovered that his own housekeeper had become pregnant by a fellow priest and subsequently aborted the pregnancy, he snapped. He began to hang around outside abortion clinics, singling out his victims. He would try to convince them that what they were doing was wrong and if they disagreed and planned to go ahead with their abortions, he killed them.

It made Emily feel sick to the stomach. These girls were just that, girls. They were fifteen and sixteen years of age, distraught and scared. Emily knew exactly how they felt. They had no other option. But Fr Conway didn't understand that. Just like Fr Gamino.

"Abortion is the work of the devil, Emilia! You will be shunned, marked as a sinner forever more! Is that what you want?"

"But Father I-I'm scared. My mother, she will-"

"The only opinion you should concern yourself with is that of the heavenly Father. Those who partake in abortion are committing the sin of murder. You will be a murderer Emilia! A murderer, condemned to the fiery depths of Hell."

"But Father, I c-can't have this baby, I-"

"Get out Emilia. Get out. And if you abort this child of God growing inside you, do not return."

"Emily!" Reid hissed from the doorway of the building. "Emily, come on!"

She shook herself out of the waking nightmare and slipped her gun from the holster. Then she rushed to catch up to the others. Morgan flashed his badge at the bespectacled young woman sitting at the reception desk and explained that he needed to see Fr Conway.

"Down the hall in Room 3B. But he's in the middle of-"

They were gone before she could finish her sentence, creeping slowly and calmly down the brightly lit corridor. Morgan led the way, with Emily taking up the rear. Her hands were shaking as they grasped her Glock 19. Morgan paused outside the door and turned to face his companions.

"You sure?" he mouthed at Emily. She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and nodded fervently. Maybe this would be a good thing. Some closure.

Morgan knocked sharply on the white varnished door and entered the room with his badge held up in plain sight. A small group of people swivelled around to face him. They were seated in a circle, each holding a small leather-bound Bible. At the top of the room stood an elderly man in the traditional black garb and dog collar of a Catholic priest. Fr Conway.

"Thomas Conway?" Morgan called to him, his voice raised aggressively. The priest nodded. God, he even looked like Fr Gamino. "You're under arrest for the murders of Alicia Duquesne, Crystal Watkins, Marissa Sulez and Trish Collins."

For a moment, Emily was sure he would hand himself in and she could escape from this nightmare once and for all. But then his gaze flickered and he grabbed the young girl closest to him. She struggled, but he was surprisingly strong for such an old man. Before Emily or Reid could get a clear shot, he ducked out the back door of the meeting room and clattered up the stairs outside. Morgan spared the other two a quick glance and then they took off in pursuit.

"Why do they always run?" the dark-skinned agent grunted as they pounded up the cold metal staircase. They were heading for the roof.

Emily allowed a gasp to slip through her clenched teeth as she skittered out the maintenance door and onto the rooftop. She ground to a halt and cocked her weapon.

Fr Conway was standing near the edge of the roof. He had the young girl by the throat. Emily could read the blind fear in the child's face. She couldn't be more than sixteen, but the slight curve of an early pregnancy bump was visible in the pale moonlight beneath her Abercrombie and Fitch t-shirt.

"Conway!" Morgan yelled from behind Emily. "Leave the girl out of this. She's an innocent here."

"Yes," the priest said in a sibilant hiss. "Yes, Holly here is a good girl. She listened to me when I told her she couldn't murder the baby inside her. But the others… the others were the daughters of the devil."

Morgan and Reid moved closer to him, but Emily remained frozen in place. The words were coming from Conway's mouth, but she might as well have been back in the confessional in Rome with Fr Gamino screaming at her.

"Fr Conway, give Holly to me," said Reid in a gentle voice. Emily bristled. Why was he being kind to this bastard? He didn't deserve kindness any more than Gamino. Servants of the Lord? What a joke. "Just give her to me. She did as you asked, remember? She repented."

Emily knew he was just playing on the priest's weakness, but she couldn't prevent a bubble of anger from rising in her stomach. She tried to steady her trembling hands as the old man shoved the girl, Holly, into Reid's waiting arms. She could hear her crying softly against the tall agent's shirt and it reminded her of how Matthew had held her when he found her on the church steps after her disastrous stint in the confessional.

"That's good," Morgan told the priest. "Now put your hands in the air. I'm going to take you in."

Astonishment washed over the old man's face. Wrinkles ploughed furrows in the papery skin and the nostrils of his long straight nose flared just as Fr Gamino's had as she sat in the front pew with Matthew after she had aborted the baby.

"Why on earth would you do that?" he asked Morgan. His blue eyes glinted like chips of ice.

"I already told you, you are under arrest for the murders of Alicia Duquesne, Crystal-"

"No, no, no," the priest interrupted. "I did the right thing. I will not be punished. My reward will be great in heaven." A wide grin stretched across his frail face.

Emily found her voice at last. Slowly, she stalked towards Fr Conway. "You killed four young girls. Four young girls who were terrified. You-"

"They were sinners," Conway snarled at her. "They committed murder, they murdered the fruit of their wombs. I was doing God's work. After what they had done-"

"They had abortions because they had no other choice!" Emily yelled, her voice an octave higher than usual. "They were scared out of their wits. They were young."

"They were whores," said Conway in a quiet voice. Emily flinched as his cold blue eyes bored into her, almost as though they could see her soul reflected in her eyes. In another place, eyes just like these had glared at her through the grille of the tiny confessional.

And suddenly Emily wasn't SSA Emily Prentiss. She was just Emily, fifteen again with black fingernails and a spiked choker around her neck. She wasn't staring at Thomas Conway, who had murdered four young girls due to a psychotic break, but Fr Gamino who shunned her because she was afraid. And Morgan and Reid were not standing there with concerned expressions, but Matthew and John. All the emotion that had been filling up inside her since she skipped her period came bursting through the barriers she had put up like a river bursting its banks.

"You were supposed to understand!" she screamed at the priest standing before her. Her gun hand wasn't wavering anymore. "You were a man of God, we turned to you because we thought you could help us!"

Out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed Matthew- or was it Reid?- shoot the other- Morgan? John?- a frantic glance. She realised she had said 'we' instead of 'they'. 'Us' instead of 'them'.

"Emily," he said slowly, coming towards her wearing a gentle expression. "Emily, calm down. It's alright."

"No!" she shrieked as she took another step closer to the old man masquerading as God's servant. "No, it's not. It will never be alright! He told us we were whores, that we would burn in Hell for having abortions. He was supposed to understand that we had no choice. I'm fifteen years old, I can't have a baby! I'm scared and I need him to help me."

"Emily," Morgan had joined the taller agent now. He reached out to take her hand but she refused the offer. "Emily, it's over. He's going to be punished."

"I'm fifteen," she muttered wildly. "I'm only fifteen."

"No Emily, you're not. It's 2010, you're 38 years old," Reid told her. There were tears in his voice. "You work with us in the BAU. It's Reid and Morgan, and this is not the man who tried to stop you having an abortion. It's alright, I promise."

But it was too late. Emily was too far gone. She took one more step and smiled viciously at the priest standing before her. The fear on his face mirrored the fear inside her when she thought of the baby growing in her womb.

"I'm only fifteen," she told him, raising the gun. "And you were supposed to understand."

A single shot rang out and the old man fell. A strangled laugh escaped from her mouth and tears began to spill down her face. She turned to the two men behind her, who had yelled when she took the shot. She thought she should recognise them, but she wasn't sure.

"He didn't understand," she whispered to them. "And I'm only fifteen."

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Nurse Beth settled Emily in the rose-pink armchair she liked the best and nodded to the orderly at the door. The mountainous man opened it and three new figures entered the room. They began to make their way past the other patients who were sitting with their visitors.

Emily thought that maybe she knew them, but she couldn't quite place where from. One was tall and thin with a young face and a mess of dark hair falling into striking brown eyes. He seemed nervous, though not entirely unaccustomed to hospitals such as this one as he didn't stare at any of the other patients, some of whom were drooling or muttering to themselves. He was very pale and his eyes were red-rimmed. Emily realised that he was crying.

The next man was also dark-haired, but his was neatly slicked back from his head. His face was absolutely expressionless and he looked like a lawyer or an accountant in his dark suit. A vein ticked in his neck.

The last visitor was also male. He was tall and muscular with skin the colour of coffee. His head was completely shaved but he had an inky beard growing along his strong jawline. He didn't seem able to look Emily in the face and she guessed that, like the first man, he was upset. Emily wondered why.

"Are you my visitors?" Emily asked them in a bright voice when they reached her.

The youngest of the three, the tall one with the mussed-up hair, glanced at the man in the suit and sniffled.

"Hotch?" he said in a tiny voice. It sounded to Emily like he was asking this man, this Hotch person, what to do, but Hotch didn't seem to have the answer. Instead, the dark-skinned, muscular man spoke in a gentle voice Emily wouldn't have matched with his strong physique.

"Yeah," he told her quietly. "We are. It's Hotch and Reid and Morgan, remember?"

Emily shook her head, confused by these unfamiliar names. Then she glanced at Nurse Beth, the one with the red hair and the soap, and remembered herself. She grinned widely up at the three men.

"Hi there," she parroted proudly. "My name is Emily Prentiss and I am fifteen years old."

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OK, so that's it. Personally, I'm not too sure about it. But if you thought it was an anyway reasonable effort please review. Oh, and vote! Please?