Author's Note: Good afternoon. You all have no idea how happy I am that they're letting Emily come back. Of all the characters on CM, she is my favorite female lead (closely followed by Garcia and JJ) and she deserves to go out with honor and grace, not out of fear of a psychopath. Also, I like the possibilities of what they could do with her and Reid. I know that there is some Seaver broad around but no one was hit harder than Reid. He cried…and still looked hot doing it. Well, at least to me. Perhaps there's a deeper connection there. We'll see in the fall.

So, this little ditty is what I want to happen when Emily rejoins the team and her family. There will be some Reid/Prentiss goodness but there will also be some angst. After all, JJ and Hotch lied to everyone and let them think she was dead. They had a good reason but still. There should be a follow up to this with my usual brand of Reid/Prentiss later on this month.

Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"

"I brought you some coffee."

Dr. Spencer Reid didn't even look towards Ashley Seaver as she came into the private hospital room. He was too busy looking at the sleeping occupant of the bed. Her hair was unevenly cut, as if it had been hacked at by a knife but it was clean, the dark brown strands holding a few hints of silver. Her nails had grown back and were painted a bright sunny yellow, courtesy of Penelope Garcia. The black FBI sweatshirt she was practically drowning in had been from Derek Morgan and Reid had given her his thickest red flannel pajama pants, as well as a mismatched pair of black and red thermal socks.

She was still underweight and her skin was an unhealthy shade of white but she was alive, gloriously alive. Emily Prentiss was alive. She was not dead, stolen from them all by the now very dead Ian Doyle. She was not cold in the ground, rotting slowly into a skeleton, a memory. Jennifer "JJ" Jareau and Aaron Hotchner had let them believe otherwise for the last 5 months, 3 weeks, and 4 days. They had been following orders but the betrayal still stung. It wasn't so deep that Reid couldn't imagine forgiving them (they were family, after all) but it would a long time before he fully trusted either one of them again.

All anger and hurt had been set aside in favor of the staggering relief he felt and his determination not to let Emily out of his sight until she was recovered…well, as recovered as she could be...

"She's still sleeping?" Seaver asked again, breaking through his reverie.

"The doctors are weaning her from the painkillers but yes. Her body needs it."

As he spoke, his hand went to her face, careful of the bruising there. The final confrontation with Doyle had been insane. Once they had breached his defenses, the assault team had come into a large empty room, only to see a ghost fighting the monster. Emily's top had been ripped, revealing a four leaf clover brand on her left breast and she was battered, looking as if she had been tortured for days…weeks. He could hear the pain filled rasps of her breathing, see a limp in her stride. Yet, she fought Doyle. She punched, kicked, scratched, and bit, causing him to grab her around the throat, slamming her to the floor, determined to take her away from them… from him…

No. Not again.

Before anyone had been able to stop him, Reid had come up behind the murderously focused man and literally blew his head off. No warning, no hesitation. The shotgun blast had been deafening, echoing off the walls and Ian Doyle's head his been reduced to a mass of oozing, bleeding, pink and white goo. His body had collapsed forward, pinning Emily to the floor. He still remembered the look in her wild, wide eyes. Even without his eidetic memory, Reid would never forget the relief and pain within them. Casting aside his weapon, he had pulled Doyle off of her and gently picked her up, cradling her shaking form against him like a bride.

He hadn't let go of her until the doctors rushed her then unconscious form behind the ER doors and even then, he had refused to leave the waiting room and insisted on getting his own hourly reports from the nurses. When asked why by David Rossi, he had very calmly turned to JJ and …

"The last time I accepted information from her without verification, I was lied to and told that someone that was…is very dear to me was dead, brutally murdered. I'm not going through that pain again. Besides, right now, I wouldn't believe either of them if they told me that the sky was blue. How could you do this to me, to us, your family? How could you sit there and mourn when you knew that she wasn't dead?"

"Reid, we were under orders not to…"

"I don't care about that, Hotch. You've disregarded orders before and…and I just want to know how you managed to sleep at night, knowing what you did? You put everyone through hell for no good reason… Did you know that Morgan had to stop me from relapsing after her funeral? Did you know that Garcia keeps my gun in her office because I asked her to so I don't do anything rash? Emily was…is the only person, other than my mother that truly understands how I'm wired and has never tried to change me and you…you both…I can barely stand to be in the same room with you, much less work with you."

A hand on his shoulder turned him and he looked up into the cornflower gaze of Seaver. He liked working with her but she was becoming much too familiar with him. Always touching him and asking questions that he had no inclination to answer…

"When was the last time you ate?"

"Hotch brought me some food when he was here."

'That was hours ago, Reid!"

"9, if you want to be specific. Keep your voice down."

"She's unconscious, Reid! It's not like she can hear us! This…this isn't healthy for you! I know you're worried about her but there's nothing you can do for you right now! It's not like she wanted your help before! She went off after Doyle all on her own and then did it again, lying to you about her own death! I just don't understand how you can be so warm to her, so understanding…"

"When I'm not with you? Why should I be? It's not like we're anything more than co-workers and friends."

If Reid were honest with himself, then he would admit that he found Seaver attractive. She was intelligent and very competent at her job. She had gone into the BAU despite her father's terrible actions and had been of great help to them finding Emily the first time. He would always be grateful to her for it but the feelings had been overtaken by fear and concern for Emily. Then, after her "death", Reid had come to the conclusion (during a particularly brutal series of headaches) that he had very deep feelings (love) for Emily, feelings that no woman could even come close to matching.

It bothered him that Seaver wanted to try and replace them.

Her face fell at the dismissal and she shook her head with pitying sadness.

"She's never gonna see you as anything more than a friend. She isn't going to be able to appreciate what kind of man you are. She won't give you what you need."

"That may be true but I still want her. As long as the both of us are alive and she's single, the answer will always be yes. I'm sorry if that hurts you but that's just the way things are. I'm not hungry and I'm not leaving her until they throw me out again. Thank you for the coffee."

/

Her body felt completely weighed down but very warm, the pain no longer all encompassing. She was drifting in and out of slumber, even managing to speak as the members of the team went in and out, tending to her like nothing had happened…

"I…I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…you all should've…I'm sorry…"

Garcia shushed her between swipes of nail polish and soothed, "It's okay, Em. Oh, you've certainly got lots of 'splaining to do about you being in Paris and god knows where else but at the end of the day…you're alive. You're alive and that's all that matters…"

She woke up again and felt a huge sweatshirt go over her hospital issue tank top, covering up her brand and the various bruises on her chest. She recognized the scents of gunpowder and cinnamon and she opened her eyes to see Derek Morgan smiling softly at her.

"Morgan…I n-need to…I'm sorry…I didn't…mistake…"

"Damn right it was a mistake but it's okay, now. All you gotta worry about is getting better. And you can keep the sweatshirt as long as you want. You're probably cold."

"Mm", she agreed while pulling her hands into the fabric. "Reid?"

"Strauss wants to talk to him about what happened."

"…didn't go anything wrong…dangerous…had to be…better not do anything to him…" she rasped indignantly, trying to get up.

"Hey, hey, we all know that and so does she! It's just some bureaucratic bullshit. Pretty Boy's not going anywhere anytime soon. Well, not without you, anyway. I saw the way he was looking at you. You've got yourself a genius in love with you…"

Rossi had brought her a quilt from home and kissed her brow before settling into the chair near the door, his warm silence saying more than any words could.

Hotch and JJ had visited together and she had managed to sit up on her own, grabbing their hands tightly to make them look at her.

"…gonna be okay…you did…you did what you had to…they'll understand…forgive…we're still a family…just…just need a little duct tape right now…" she soothed, making them all chuckle. Well, she managed to a little before her ribs flared up.

"You're right. Take all the time you need to recover and if you need anything…"

"I'll call you."

Hotch squeezed her hand and left the room, making Emily smile crookedly at JJ as she stared after him.

"…you two?"

"We're just friends. Um, Will and I…we broke up after everything. He told me to make a choice between my job and him and…I have custody of Henry, though and Spence has been helping out with him, too. Although, I don't know how long that's gonna last since he probably hates me."

"He doesn't…just hurt…I…I'll talk to him…see if I can…maybe…"

"She's unconscious, Reid! It's not like she can hear us! This…this isn't healthy for you! I know you're worried about her but there's nothing you can do for you right now! It's not like she wanted your help before! She went off after Doyle all on her own and then did it again, lying to you about her own death! I just don't understand how you can be so warm to her, so understanding…"

Emily forced her eyes to open to slivers and listened as Reid shut her down coolly. From what she had heard, he hadn't raised his voice the whole time, not even when he had gone off on Hotch and JJ, not even when he was demanding updates on her condition. He didn't need to. Just the way he carried himself gave off an aura of determination and anger, anger that made Seaver look as if he slapped her…

"She's never gonna see you as anything more than a friend. She isn't going to be able to appreciate what kind of man you are. She won't give you what you need."

"That may be true but I still want her. As long as the both of us are alive and she's single, the answer will always be yes. I'm sorry if that hurts you but that's just the way things are. I'm not hungry and I'm not leaving her until they throw me out again. Thank you for the coffee."

Emily completely understood Seaver's argument. From her perspective and from an outsider's, she had done nothing but push everyone away and run away. It had been for the best. What Doyle had done to her after he had gotten his hands on her had been nothing compared to what he planned to do to them. That was what prompted her last stand, anyway…

"You're never going to be free of me, Lauren. Even if you manage to kill me right now, you'll always have my mark on your skin, in your mind. And your precious team? They've found me. They're coming for me so after we have our little spat, I'll be turning my attention to them, starting with that young doctor. Reid, is it? Ah, yes. He means the most to you, doesn't he? I hear you whimpering for him in your sleep. Do you think he'll be your savior? That he'll keep me from tearing you apart, just as you did the same to me all those years ago? In fact, I've changed my mind. I'll save you for last. I want you to watch them all suffer and die. I want you to see your precious Spencer…"

She had kicked him in the groin before he could finish. The rest was a haze of pain given and taken. She had been determined to kill him, even at the cost of her own life. Even as she lay choking on the cold wooden floor, she still clawed at him, tried to gather enough saliva to spit in his sorry face. The gunshot blast had put his face and twisted brain all over her, a feeling that made her shudder in revulsion, even as her eyes snapped open.

Standing above her like an avenging angel was Reid, smoke rising from the barrel of his shotgun, bits of Doyle stuck in his grown out hair and goatee. She had tried to move, tried to speak but shock had reduced her to just shaking. He had moved Doyle off of her and picked her up slowly, tenderly as if she was his bride, his precious treasure…

"S-Spencer?", she croaked, pleased to find that her throat was no longer scratchy and sore.

"Emily! Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

"Help me sit up? I want to look at you, not the ceiling."

He pushed the button to bring her mattress up to a sitting position and put a couple of pillows behind her. He looked completely exhausted but he had gotten cleaned up. He smelled of hospital soap instead of death and he was practically drowning in the scrubs the nurses had given him. He had also shaved, restoring him to the Reid that she remembered…the Reid she loved.

Gentle fingertips caught her tears and wiped them away, mindful of her still stinging cuts.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I…I'm just so happy to see you."

Reid blushed but smiled genuinely, carefully hugging her with one arm.

"I'm happy to see you too. God, Emily, I thought you were dead. Everyone did." he sighed sadly, making her look away from him shamefully.

"That was a mistake. I should've at least tried to warn you guys but I didn't. I thought it would be better because if Doyle got me, it would be okay. I mean, it wouldn't be okay but at least none of you would get hurt by him. I guess I forgot that I was capable of hurting you guys too. I know you're mad at JJ and Hotch but you should be mad at me, too."

"Oh, believe me, I am. But I understand why you did what you did and at least Doyle can't hurt you or anyone else anymore."

"You made sure of that. Reid, why'd you shoot him? Usually you fight with words…"

"I didn't want him to take you away from me again. If he was just arrested or wounded, there was a chance he'd get loose and come after you again. I decided not to let it happen and the next thing I know, I'm pulling the trigger and his head's…not a head anymore. I…I don't feel any regrets about it either. Should I be worried?"

"No more than usual. So, when can I leave?"

"The doctors say that they want to keep you for another couple of days and then you can go home."

Home…oh, damn…

"I don't have a home. Dead people don't need apartments or…oh god, where's my cat?"

"Sergio's probably napping on top of my dresser again. He's a good roommate. He keeps the mice down in the building and he doesn't snore. He…he misses you. You could…well, I have an extra room and I was wondering if…I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to but…"

"Reid, are you asking me to come stay with you?"

"Trying to.", he admitted sheepishly.

Emily chuckled and replied, "Okay. How much is rent?"

"The only rent you have to pay is in the form of a promise that you will never, ever, ever do something this crazy and reckless and suicidal ever again."

The levity drained between them and she met his beseeching cinnamon gaze, seeing the lingering hurt and fear…

She would do her utmost to get rid of both.

"I promise."