A/N: OMG I am SOOOOOO sorry for neglecting this fic. With my grandma's stroke, and then the Holidays, its just been ughhhh…awful is a good word lol. Ok. The reason this story Is a sequel to The Neverending Road is because it jumps almost a year in time. Emily and Ian have returned from their little mission, and now them and their kids deal with the repercussions and try to move forward, and face the new challenges they face as a family.

IAN's POV 12345

Ian Doyle sat alone in the den. The twins walked wobbily around him, squealing and giggling. But he barely noticed. He barely noticed anything anymore. He sighed again and sipped on the glass of Macallan in his hand. It'd had taken him and Emily 6 long months and travels through 3 countries before they had found Cameron's girls. "Lauren" had contacted some old weapons dealer contacts, that also had ties with human trafficking. Ian had been of little use for that, as he thought human trafficking was a crime against God, and had refused to deal in it. They had gotten a lead about 3 months prior to the conclusion of their "mission" that an unknown prostitution ringleader had emerged suddenly right around the time the girls had been taken. It was also rumored he dealt in…younger merchandise.

Emily had profiled the man they were looking for, he was clearly in it for the money and would do whatever he could to get the most out of both Cameron Miller and his girls. He probably never intended to give the girls back, so they had to go get them. That they both had agreed on…

When they'd finally tracked down their target, a man named Sergei Malkanov, a Russian prostitution ringleader, who used to deal with Cameron Miller for weapons back in the old days. Miller, had once double crossed him and he had never forgotten. He had lost millions, gotten a nasty gunshot wound, and was blacklisted among other weapons dealers, basically leaving him defenseless. When they'd finally tracked down, they'd found nothing short of the worst thing Ian had witnessed in his life… He was a bad person, he knew it, he never pretended to be a saint, but there are some things in life that are unforgivable, a crime against nature. He'd taken care of the 6 men playing poker around a dirty card table in the basement of a rundown townhouse in Prague. Emily, had rushed in behind, to look for the girls.

The bloodcurdling scream she'd unleashed not moments later stopped Ian dead in his tracks, from pistol whipping a stubborn fucker who refused to die quickly… He put a bullet into the man's forhead to be sure, then ran to help Emily. She stood in the doorway of a filthy bedroom, with one torn mattress on the floor, and a blue bucket in the corner that reeked of human waste. On the mattress lay one of the twins Maleah, her body curled in the fetal position, almost unrecognizable, face beaten to a pulp, bruises almost blending into her skin color as her body had begun to begin the early process of decomposition… She was malnourished and naked, laying on the blood stained mattress. Ian let out a yell of rage the likes of which Emily had never heard, she flinched as he turned and punched a whole in the wall. She grabbed his arm, tugging him out of the room, but the image of that poor little girl, he would never forget…

They'd found Neveah, her red curly hair plastered to her face, with sweat and grime, huddled in the farthest corner of the room, sobbing, she too, was badly beaten, malnourished, and was sitting in a small puddle of her own blood, the source of which Ian was too shamed to look at. Emily had immediately rushed to the girl telling her it was all over, she was going to go home. The little girl had collapsed into Emily's embrace immediately, screaming and sobbing tears of relief. The bastards had raped those 2 little girls within an inch of their lives, killing one eventually.

Ian took a shaky breath as he remembered Emily wrapping Neveah in her jacket and carrying her, holding her head down past the bedroom that had become her twin sisters nightmarish grave. He remembered breaking the news to Cameron and his wife. How sorry he'd been he hadn't gotten there in time. Cameron had said nothing, his wife cradling her only child in her arms weeping. He'd shaken Ian's hand, and looked him in the eyes. That was good enough. He knew Ian and Emily had tried their damndest. He just couldn't articulate the words…

Ian had not had such a happy reunion… Although his children were healthy, whole, and happy to see them, Ian couldn't feel anything. He wasn't happy, he wasn't sad, he wasn't proud of Declan's A+ science grade, he felt nothing. He'd smiled and hugged everyone, gave kisses to the twins, but the smile couldn't reach his eyes… Emily was ecstatic to be home with her children, but this wasn't the first time she had witnessed horrible things, as a member of the BAU she had seen some of the most depraved things a human being could do to another. She was grateful to come home to something so wonderful.

But, he… He was haunted, physically and emotionally. He hadn't slept for the first two weeks they'd been home. He was irritable, unstable… Emily had seen this and recommended counseling, he'd backhanded her. She didn't understand. She just didn't. No one understood how he was feeling. Or so was his belief. He didn't eat regularly, he drank more and more, just to make him sleep.

He knew this cycle was causing tension between Emily and himself, they barely spoke, when they weren't having violent fights, or even worse violent sex. She'd thought appeasing him with sex would help his nerves, but now he was pretty sure she'd never fuck him again… She was nervous when he was with the kids, he was always drinking, he'd started smoking again… He was falling apart. Drowning. He couldn't help but feel if they'd only been a day earlier, 2 days earlier, Maleah might still be alive… He couldn't get the mental image of that poor little girl cuddled up on the bed, blood coming out of her every orifice…. He took a giant swig out of the decanter. Fuck the glass…

He closed his eyes and listened to the giggling children playing around him.

What if that was his little girl, walking down that road alone?

Finally sleep encroached on his brain, blacking out the image… He felt the decanter slip out of his hand onto the carpet….

TBC!