Disclaimer: I own nothing, everything belongs to their rightful owners.
AN: Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read and/or review my stories, that really means the world to me! And of course a big thank you goes to my wonderful beta reader clairebare!
Dust In My Pockets
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It's a sunny afternoon in early spring when Emily Prentiss decides to remain Lauren Reynolds and become Ian Doyle's wife.
She's standing in the garden of his Tuscan villa, pushing Declan on his swing. The boy laughs, his blonde hair flying through the air. Tells her to push him higher. His clear blue eyes glisten with joy.
Emily keeps watching the boy with a smile on her own face, thinking about the pregnancy test she left on the sink in the upstairs bathroom. She tells herself that it's an accident, that she never planned for any of this to happen.
The part of her that's Lauren believes that, but the part that's left of Emily knows better. Knows that she'd been reckless. Knows that it never would have happened if she hadn't wanted it to.
She closes her eyes, listens to sound of the waves crashing against the shore and Declan's happy laugh and tells herself hat she's doing the right thing, that this is the only way to keep them safe.
It's a deal with devil she knows, but she always thought heaven was overrated anyway.
Half an hour later she spots Ian walking out of the living room with the pregnancy test in his hand. His gaze finds hers, blue eyes meeting dark. Asking if she's sure.
Emily nods, her right hand intentionally resting on her belly.
She's never seen Ian Doyle more happy than in this moment.
.
A few days later she tells Ian that she got word that one of her former men had talked, that the feds had her on their radar and that they plan to take her down.
She tells him that she's afraid. That she needs him to get her out of this business, that she can't keep working as an arms dealer. That she's afraid to lose their baby.
And she tells him that she needs Declan and him to come with her. That their kids deserve not only a mother but a father as well.
He stares at the ceiling for a long time and Emily feels panic starting to grow with every passing minute.
When he finally nods, she closes the gap between them allowing her lips to crash against his.
As soon as Ian leaves the house, she calls Clyde. Tells him that she's in danger. That she thinks Ian found out she's with the CIA, that he suspects something. That she needs to get out.
She feels guilty for lying and even more when she hears the concern in Clyde's voice. She wishes she could tell him goodbye, but instead she ends the call abuptly. Throws the phone from the balcony towards the ocean.
Knows by the time Clyde gets here, she'll be gone.
.
She stops thinking about herself as Emily, as soon as they leave Tuscany.
They change locations over and over again, the only place they always come back to - the rough coasts of Ireland.
Ian's home.
It's where they get married too, in a little chapel near the ocean and it's where she gives birth to Ava, a beautiful little girl with dark hair and eyes as blue as the horizon.
.
The first time Lauren thinks about leaving is after a fight with Ian. It's about a gun he got for Declan's birthday and even through it's just a toy, Lauren can't help but be furious.
Ian looks at her like she's lost her mind.
"You were an arms dealer for god's sake! Damn it, Lauren. What's wrong about a toy gun for a six year old?"
There are a millions of reasons, but not one that would make sense coming out of her mouth. So she stays quiet, watches Ian leave the house. The door falling shut behind him.
For a brief second she thinks about taking the kids and leaving before it's too late.
This wasn't about a toy gun, it was about Ian. About what he wanted for Declan's life. And Emily wasn't sure if she would be able to stand by and watch.
Maybe he wouldn't try to turn Ava into a warrior one day, after all she was just a girl. But with Declan things were different. He was his first born son, supposed to take over his father's legacy one day.
She sits at Declan's bed that night, looking out of the window and into the sky. Praying that she made the right decision.
Admitting that for the first time since they left Tuscany together, she isn't sure anymore.
.
It's summer and they're in D.C.
Ian is meeting with some new business partners, while Louise heads with the kids to the playground.
Lauren spends her day in town, looking for a birthday present for Ian. She stops at a coffee shop and is on her way back out when someone runs straight into her. Her cup slips from her hands. Milk and coffee splattering all over her shoes and the floor.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to...god, I'm really..."
Lauren looks up to find a young man in front of her. He looks lost, a little confused and totally embarrassed. His cheeks bright red. She watches him look down to the floor and back up at her. His hazel eyes finally meeting hers.
"I'm really sorry," the guy starts again. Nervously pushing a strand of his light brown hair out of his face, shoving his hands in his pants pocket. "Of course I'm going to pay for it, just tell me what you had and..."
The young man keeps rambling and Lauren struggles to keep up with him. And she can't help but take a step back when she spots the FBI badge against his belt.
"You work for the FBI?" she blurts out before she can stop herself.
He breaks off mid-sentence, looks down at the badge and back to her.
She could swear she sees him blush all over again.
"I work for the Behavioral Analysis Unit, yes."
"You're a profiler."
"That too."
She raises her brows. "What else?"
He takes a deep breathe before he starts telling her about his three P.h. D 's and two B.A.'s and Lauren just listens to his voice, briefly wondering how old he is, because he can't be as young as he looks not even if he's a genius. They wouldn't let a teenage boy work at the FBI now or would they?
He stops abruptly when one of the shop assistants shows up to clean up the mess on the floor. He starts apologizing all over again, to her as well to the shop assistant. Lauren has to fight a chuckle.
"It's fine," she tells him to stop his rant. "I drink too much coffee anyway."
He nods, looks at the mopped up floor and back up at her.
"I'm Reid ...I mean.. I'm Spencer. Spencer Reid." He's blushing furiously and Lauren smiles. Already wondering how he ended up with the FBI. Sure that it's an interesting tale to tell. If she had time to listen.
"It was nice meeting you, Spencer," she says, already on her way out of the shop.
"What's your name?" His question surprises her, but judging by the look on his face, him even more than her.
She thinks about it, her hand already on the door.
"I'm Emily," she tells him. "Emily Prentiss."
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Lauren is pacing on the balcony of her hotel suite, staring into the dark sky. Biting her lip nervously. Wondering what she's gotten herself into.
She still couldn't believe she told the FBI guy her real name. Had she lost her freaking mind?
The only thing that stops her from going crazy is the fact that she's sure he didn't recognize her name. And no wonder he didn't, she worked for Interpol and for the CIA, not for the feds.
Her assignment had been sealed and she knows they kept her disappearance a secret as well. They wouldn't even admit she'd worked for them if someone came asking.
But still. Why did she do something reckless like that?
Because she wanted her life back.
She closes her eyes briefly, before she walks back into the bedroom and takes a look at the clock. Wonders why Ian isn't back yet. She wants to leave Washington as fast as possible.
She should have stayed in Ireland with the kids, she thinks. Knows she shouldn't have come here. God she'd been so stupid.
She lies down on the bed, blindly reaching for the blanket as she allows exhaustion to take over.
That night she's dreaming about the FBI agent for the first time. About hazel eyes and light brown hair, a kind smile and a voice soft as silk.
The ultimate solution. Her chance for freedom.
She wakes up shaking, bile already rising in her throat. She stumbles out of the bed, heads for the bathroom. Ends up dry heaving on the floor instead. Tears spilling down her cheeks, sobs wracking her body.
She almost starts screaming when light illuminates the darkness, realizes just in time it's Ian.
"What's wrong?" he asks worried, leaping from the bed. His hands reaching for her. But Lauren just shakes her head.
Motions for him to leave her alone.
The last thing she needs is him asking questions.
They leave Washington before sunrise. Lauren's sitting on her seat with Ava in her arms and Declan right beside her. Both still fast asleep.
She feels Ian's stare from the other end of the jet, but she can't bring herself to look back at him. She's not sure why, but all of the sudden the gold ring around her finger feels tight.
.
When she meets him again they're in Italy.
She's sitting with Ava and Declan on a bench on the boardwalk, the three of them eating ice cream and watching the boats in the harbor when he shows up out of nowhere.
She almost drops her ice cream cone when she spots him a few feet away from her. And even though he's wearing sunglasses, she knows it's him right away. Before she even manages to think of something it's already too late.
"Emily," he calls for her with a warm smile while he makes his way towards her.
She feels panic rise inside of her.
"Hey," is all she manages to get over her lips.
She watches him look at Declan to her right and to Ava to her left before he looks back at her.
"Are you here for the holidays?" he asks casually. At least he tries to sound casual but Lauren hears how nervous he is.
Declan answers before she has the time to think of a lie. "No we live here."
She watches Spencer raise an eyebrow. "Really? That's cool."
"We have a house in Ireland, too. And another one in England."
"Why don't you take you sister to the playground over there," Lauren interrupts Declan, pointing to the place only a few feet away from them.
Declan looks at her suspiciously, but takes Ava's hand anyway.
"Hunting serial killers, Dr. Reid?" she asks him as soon as the kids are out of earshot.
"No," he shrugs. "Just on vacation." He points to a dark haired man behind him on the docks. "One of my team members has a boat."
Lauren nods, her ice-cream slowly melting in her hand.
"Do you have a house in D.C. too?"
Lauren tries to smile, shakes her head.
"No, Declan is six. He likes to exagerrate."
"Are they yours?"
Lauren nods again, knows he's talking about Declan and Ava. Notices how he looks down at her hands, watches the gimmel ring glistening in the sunlight.
"You're married."
It's not a question. But it's not a statement either. It's something else. Something Lauren can't place.
It's she who looks away first. Her eyes dart over to the playground, just in time to see Ava letting go of her ice cream cone. It takes not even a second before she starts to cry.
"Sorry, I have to go," Lauren tells Spencer, as she hurries away.
She feels his eyes follow her, knows he's watching. But when she finally manages to calm Ava and looks around, he's gone.
It's not until later when she's looking for her car keys, that she finds the note carefully slipped into one of her jeans pockets.
.
"Declan told me a man in the harbor called you Emily today?"
It takes Lauren all of her self control to not let go of her glass of wine.
She's eating dinner with Ian, the two of them sitting in the living room. Declan and Ava already asleep in their bedrooms upstairs.
"Just a misunderstanding," she tells him, before she takes another sip from her glass.
She watches him nod, watches him take another bite.
"Is there something I should be worried about?"
"No, why would you think that?"
She watches him let go of his fork before he looks back up at her. "You tell me, Lauren."
"The man just mistook me for someone else, that's all, Ian." He doesn't look convinced and Emily can tell that he isn't.
"Do you want to leave me?"
The question hits her like a bucket of ice. She puts her glass back down on the table.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. Do you want to leave me?"
"No, Ian. Of course not! Why would I!" she shakes her head. Feeling sick to her stomach.
She watches him pick up his fork again, his blue eyes boring into her own.
"What are you not telling me, love."
"Nothing."
He squints his eyes, stares at her and she knows that he knows she's lying.
"So this life suddenly isn't good enough for you anymore, is it?" he asks her, his voice so cold she feels herself shiver. His stare cutting through her like a knife.
"I never said that."
"Than what is it, Lauren?"
"I just...don't you ever get tired of all this?"
"What exactly?"
"Running, hiding. Living in fear."
He pushes away his plate with so much force, it shatters on the floor.
"Why would you live in fear?" he asks her. His voice amazingly calm, despite the rage in his eyes. "I got rid of all the men you worked with. There's no one left to come after you."
Her head shoots up.
What did he just say?
"You killed them?" she whispers. Thinking of the people who went undercover with her, pretending to work for her.
"I got rid of them, yes. The FBI has no evidence. Besides you know we made it look like I killed you, remember?"
She does, it had been her idea. To make Clyde stop looking for her right away. But she never thought Ian would... how could she have been so stupid?
She feels herself slipping away. The edges of her sight going black.
"Lauren?" she sees the concern written on Ian's face. "Are you alright? Lauren?" He leaps up from his chair, just as everything turns dark around her.
.
The next time Ian leaves for business, she asks Louise to look after the children and gets herself a burner phone in the nearby city.
She's sitting on a bench in the park, the phone pressed against her ear. Waiting for him to take the call. The note he slipped into her pocket just a few weeks ago, carefully folded between her fingers.
His voice even softer than she remembers when he answers after the third ring.
"This is Spencer Reid."
She closes her eyes, smiles.
"Hello? Somebody there?"
She counts to three, before she speaks.
"It's me. It's Emily."
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She's in France when she meets him again. This time she's not even surprised when he shows up out of nowhere.
He sits down beside her, his hair longer than the last time, falling loosely in his eyes. He smiles his handsome smile at her and she allows herself to become Emily again.
They talk about everything and nothing, his voice the sweetest sound she's ever heard and she thinks that if he read her a microwave manual she would love listening to him just the same.
When they part two hours later, she bends forward to give him a kiss on the cheek.
He looks stunned, blushes, bends forward and pulls her close.
And even when it's just for a second, Emily allows herself to give in. Closes her eyes, inhales his scent. Wishes she could stay in his embrace forever.
She's not surprised to find the little bug in her coat pocket, just smiles before she throws it into the nearest trashcan on her way back to the car.
.
In her dreams she's always Emily. And she always dreams about him.
Wonders if he'll be there, when they come to rip her family apart. Knows that one day they will.
Maybe he would be the one to get her out.
Maybe one day she'll even want him to.
.
They're on the way to the airport, when Lauren realizes something's wrong.
When she does it's already too late. They're surrounded by dozens of black SUV's, before she has the time to blink.
She reaches for Ava with one hand and for Declan with the other, exchanging looks with Ian.
Knows, this is it.
She takes the kids into her arms, tells them to close their eyes. She pulls them from their seats and against her chest, tries to shield them with her arms.
She doesn't dare move when an FBI man tears open the door and grabs the driver. Just stares at Ian while he tells her that he loves her. Keeps staring after him while FBI men tear him away.
When the gunshots start she closes her eyes, presses her children against her chest. Allows her tears to spill down her cheeks, while she buries her face in Declan's hair. Whispering soothing nothings to him and Ava, praying they won't look up.
She has no idea how much time has passed when she hears a familiar voice right beside her.
Whispering her real name.
"Emily."
.
When she looks up, the first thing she sees through her tears are hazel eyes. The next, the barrel of a gun. It's not Spencer's though. It belongs to a blonde woman to his left and a second to a tall man with black hair to his right.
"Emily," he calls her name again. Putting his hands in the air as if to show her he's not going to do her any harm. "Emily, it's me. Spencer."
She just stares at him, watches every move as he slips in the car. Sits down beside her.
He's wearing a bullet proof vest, his hair shorter than the last time. And all she can think about is that he looks so different from the young man she met in Washington a few years back.
She doesn't dare to move, doesn't even dare to breathe. Almost chokes on her tears when she spots the figure lingering in the free spot Spencer just left.
Clyde.
It just then that she realizes how silent it has become, the only sound she hears the sobbing of her children. Their tears still soaking the fabric of her blouse.
Ian.
She tries to turn her head, but Spencer's hand on her arm holds her back.
"Don't," he tells her softly. "You don't want to see this, Emily."
He's right.
She doesn't.
But she has to.
She turns her head slowly, spots Ian three feet away from their car. Lying on the pavement, his white button down soaked with blood. His eyes staring empty at he sky above.
And all Emily can think is that he didn't even have a gun.
.
They take her back to the FBI with them, put her into an interrogation room. Clyde and the tall agent sit down at the other side of the table, asking her the exact same questions, Emily always knew they would ask.
She tells them what she always planned to.
Tells them that Ian took her with him when he left Tuscany, that he spared her life because she'd been pregnant with his child.
She cries, sobs and tells them how relieved she is that they finally got her out.
It feels like a betrayal to her.
It's the female agent who brings her her kids as soon as Clyde gives a sign through the window.
Declan starts to cry as soon as he comes into the room, his arms close around her middle. His face pressed against her chest. Emily holds him, whispers in his ear while she takes Ava back in her arms. The little girl just as scared as Declan, even though she has no idea what's going on. Her doll pressed against her chest and Emily can't stop her own tears from falling, when she remembers the day Ian got them for her.
Out of the corner of her eye Emily catches a glimpse of herself, her long dark hair falling right into her tear streaked face. The two sobbing kids in her arms and for the first time she sees what they see.
A victim.
.
It's Clyde who takes her to a hotel.
He watches her tug the kids into bed before they sit down on the bed in the adjoining bedroom together. They're sitting there in silence for a long time before he looks up at her. His fingers reaching for her face.
"You loved Doyle."
It's not a question, Emily knows.
"You played me when you called to tell me you were in danger. Ian had no idea who you were, am I right?"
Emily thinks about lying, but the soft touch of his fingers against her cheek makes it impossible for her to tell another lie.
"Yes," she whispers. Looking down at her hands.
"Why, Emily?"
"It was the only way to save us."
"That's not true, darling."
"It is." She turns her head to look at him.
"What would you have said if I had come to you back then and told you that I was pregnant with Doyle's child? What if I'd come and told you about Declan? What if Doyle really had found out the truth? None of us would have been safe ever again, Clyde."
"Why did you even end up pregnant in the first place, Emily? You're an adult for god's sake and not a teenage girl. You know how to use protection properly, don't you? And don't give me some crap about that one percent."
She feels her cheeks flush for more than one reason.
"You did it on purpose, didn't you? You knew exactly what you were doing."
She doesn't dare to look at him.
"What about Declan? I get that you wanted to help the kid. But he isn't yours."
"You're wrong, Clyde. He is."
"Come on Emily," Clyde shakes her head at her. "We both know he isn't. When you met Doyle for the first time Declan was nearly four."
"The papers say something else."
"Fuck, Emily, you're not Lauren Reynolds either! Doesn't that get in your head? No matter what you signed with that name..."
"The papers aren't signed with Lauren Reynolds."
Clyde stares. Becomes quiet. Whispers. "You tricked Doyle as well."
"I did what I had to do. I needed to make sure that if anything happened to him, Declan could stay with me no matter what."
Clyde still stares at her. And Emily still looks down at her hand. The wedding band around her finger.
"He was a good man, Clyde."
"A good man, Emily?" Clyde gives her a cold laugh. "Are you insane? He was a terrorist! He killed innocent people. He slaughtered the whole team you worked with, every single one of them. Do you want me to show you pictures? Do you want me to tell you how they suffered?"
No she doesn't.
"He tried to protect me."
"That doesn't make him a good man, Emily."
"He loved me, Clyde. And he loved his children. He did it for us. He did what he thought was right."
"That still doesn't make him a good man, Emily!"
"What does it matter now? He's dead! Your people killed him! He didn't even have a gun!"
It's Clyde who looks away this time and the tension in the room becomes thick.
"What did you think would happen when you told an FBI profiler your real name?"
Emily bites her lip so hard she draws blood. She knew what would happen right from the start.
"I thought that kid had gone mad when he showed up in the London office and claimed he'd talked to Emily Prentiss." Clyde laughs, staring off into the distance.
"We came close a couple of times over the years, but every time we did, you slipped through the gaps and we never found out how."
Emily remembers those times, remembers them getting out of bed in the middle of the night and rushing to the airport.
"Your people changed sides."
"Yeah and it took Spencer Reid to tell me that."
She watches him shake his head. "Solving this case is going to get him great offers. Despite his age and all his quirks, and believe me that kid has dozens, he knows what he's doing. I still can't believe he managed to do something we failed to do for years."
"Why didn't you tell those agents the truth today?" Emily asks him after a moment of silence. "If you already knew I had my own part in all of this, why let me go? Why not lock me up in a nice prison cell instead?"
"Because I broke my promise back then," Clyde answers. And it's the first time Emily notices how exhausted he sounds. "I promised you I'd protect you when you went undercover, but I didn't."
Emily shakes her head tiredly.
"It was my decision to go with him, Clyde. Not yours."
Clyde gives her a sad smile. "I should have realized you had fallen in love with him, Emily. I should have gotten you out."
Emily can't help but think about the difference it would have made. If he'd gotten her out, she wouldn't have Ava. And Declan wouldn't have made it out alive. Maybe they would be all dead by now.
"When wonder boy came and told me about meeting you in that coffee shop, that you told him your name so freely, I knew you wanted us to know. Wanted us to come and get you. Emily Prentiss wanted us to end this."
It's true, she thinks. Tears blurring her vision.
She'd wanted out, knew that no matter how much she loved Ian it wouldn't have been enough to let go of what he thought was right. That no matter how matter much she could ignore other people getting hurt, she couldn't ignore it as soon as involved her own children.
She'd tried to change him into another man for years.
In the end she failed.
Emily stumbles to her feet in a hurry, makes it to the bathroom just in time before she vomits. Pain tearing her apart, tears filling her eyes and spilling down her cheeks.
She hears the bathroom door close shut behind her, water running before she feels the cold cloth placed on her neck. Clyde pulling away her hair, murmuring comforting words that make her tremble even more.
"It's okay," Clyde tells her. His voice so gentle it makes more tears spill from her eyes.
"I'm sorry," she chokes out. "I'm so sorry." And she says it again even though she's not sure what she's apologizing for.
It's Clyde who pulls her into his arms, holds her close against his chest, his hands around her trembling form. And she holds on to his shirt with all the strength she has left.
.
Emily wakes up between her children, Declan to her right and Ava to her left. She has no recollection of how she got there, though. The last thing Emily remembers is clinging to Clyde's jacket.
She gets to her feet slowly, tries not wake the kids and leaves the bedroom.
She finds a note from Clyde on the small desk beside the door.
Take care of you, is all it reads.
Emily wonders if she'll ever see him again.
.
Spencer shows up in front of her hotel room that evening.
A shy smile on his face. His hair tousled. His hands casually stuffed in the pockets of his pants. "I just wanted to see how you're doing."
Emily lets him in, not sure what else to do. For a long time they stand in the middle of the room, looking at each other.
"I'm sorry," he finally blurts out. His hazel eyes finding hers, while he shoves his hands deeper into his pockets.
Emily doesn't need to ask him what he's talking about.
"I know," she whispers. And she knows it's true. "I just don't know what to tell them," she adds. Looking at the closed bedroom door. Thinking about Declan and Ava. Trying to hold back her tears.
How is she supposed to explain Ian's death to them?
How is she supposed to explain that his death was the only way to save their own lifes?
It's quiet for a long time, before Spencer takes her hand into his own and whispers: "We'll figure it out together."
.
Emily knows it'll be a long way back. A long way to find herself, to make her kids feel safe again.
But the way Spencer looks at her makes clear that he will be with her all the way.
And right now, that's all Emily Prentiss needs to know.
.
.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, Everything belongs to their rightful owners.