Two days ago, the Behavioral Analysis Unit of Quantico, Virginia returned from rural Oklahoma. They have been working a case in rural Oklahoma where women were robbed of one of their senses and then murdered. No case is ever routine, but this one has been tougher than most. Aside from the brutal nature of the crime, it was the sheer configuration of the team as it stands today that is mind-boggling.

Who would have thought that someday, they would all work together, just as Emily predicted? Not saving the world, as Penelope guessed, but it is close enough. With one of them gone, and two back from other forms of discharge - JJ was offered a job at the Pentagon and forced to take it by Strauss - who unfortunately - remains their boss. Emily, it turned out, had more of a hidden past than anyone could guess, and subsequently suffered a fatal run-in with international criminal, Ian Doyle. He's no longer in the picture. No longer a threat. But Emily's loss has left a gaping hole in all of them. They cannot function as a team if every person is not present and committed to the work. Emily had definitely been committed, but sacrificed her own life for the safety of those she loved - had always loved - just like family.

Ashley has been gone for four months now, working in another unit. Though she loves her team, she feels that her own space would be best. She makes time to see them, and still treads carefully around Penelope, years later. She has changed her last name from Beauchamp to Seaver - her mother's maiden name - in an effort to distance herself from him. She has struggled to conquer her own demons, but she has still managed to keep the upper hand. Her personal insight has even proven useful in a few cases when she joined the team last year. Profiling women with low self-esteem and emotional problems. Ashley has perspective that none of the rest of them possess. It helps. It's good that it helps. But, years later, it also hurts. It hurts, too, that she and Spencer lost touch for many years, and now are nowhere near as close as they were in high school. Ashley knows these things happen, but she wishes they would happen a little less.

JJ's still getting used to being on the field, in the middle of the action, not just in front of the cameras. It's hard to do what she does. To consciously deceive people, even if it is for their own good. JJ has been living with the consequences of that deceit for the last week. She wishes she could have had some other choice. But, for as long as she can remember, she has been the secret-keeper… She is juggling motherhood and this job. Three years ago, she gave birth to a perfect little boy, Henry William. He looks - for all the world - like JJ…and therefore…like Janet. He reminds JJ of Rachel Miller, who, today, is seventeen - the same age Janet was when she died. JJ sees Rachel occasionally and from a distance. She is growing up well. The Millers have been good to her. Though there is still a hole in JJ's heart in the specific shape and depth of her sister, she finds it helps to have Henry. To right perceived mistakes that her own parents may have made with Janet, in raising JJ's own child.

Hotch is also a father. He married Haley after all. The marriage didn't work. He knew it wouldn't. As hard as he tried, Hotch could not forget the first girl he honestly cared for. But if not for his marriage to Haley, Hotch wouldn't have Jack. He thinks often of his teenage years, spent raising Sean from a similar age. Today, Sean is an accomplished student, and looking forward to a career in culinary school. He grew up with the Morgan's after their father passed in June, just after Aaron's high school graduation. Hotch likes to think Emily and perhaps Penelope had a hand in his developing Sean's passion for cooking. When Haley was killed, it nearly destroyed him. When he lost Emily, it hurt even more deeply. There is something about a person's first real love…

Emily was presumed dead seven months ago, but turned up last week, as if nothing was amiss. She is full of apologies and regret, even now. She thinks of coming to the United States from Italy as a teenager, and finds such chilling parallels - such striking differences - that they nearly take her breath. In high school, she was mourning, but no one was allowed to know. Now, her friends all mourned her, but they did not know the truth: that she was alive. That she survived - barely. Her connection with JJ kept her sane. Knowing that somewhere in the States JJ was thinking of her. Nights were filled with covert Scrabble games. Messages built upon one another in single word utterances like an aphasic.

Here.

Yes.

Sorry.

Don't.

Love.

OK.

Family.

Someday.

Spencer cannot see beyond JJ's role in the betrayal in his confidence. It reminds him too much of being twelve and being lied to about his own life. Of being mistreated on purpose - for the fun of it - rather than because it is absolutely necessary. Things have not been easy for him. He has struggled with issues he never thought would afflict him. Addiction. At the time, he had wished fervently for Ashley to materialize, to help him through it. To tell him the very things he told her to get her through. He forgot them when it counted. By the time she was back, it was too little, too late. Now he has to deal with JJ and her copious lies. Forgiving is harder work than he assumes it will be. To let go of this wrong. To admit that it was not intentional is the hardest thing Spencer has ever had to do. It's not just the lie; it's the months of grief, and feeling emotionally manipulated that is hard to cope with. Still, they have been through worse. And if they had not been together though it, Spencer knows, they would not have survived.

Derek, too, is still reeling - but more quietly. He and Emily were partners in the field. He was the one who found her, impaled by a wooden stake and bleeding out in a warehouse. His was the last face she saw. The last person she spoke to, before disappearing. She had told Derek to let her go. And he had tried with all his might to keep her with him. He, for one, doesn't blame JJ. He completely understands the need for confidentiality and he respects her more than he can articulate. It has been years, and not once has she shared his secret. Even when he was arrested in connection with a death Carl was responsible for. He still thinks of Carl in darker moments. When he does, he calls Sarah to talk things over. He reminds himself that she knew what she was talking about. He had been able to get to college on his own abilities. He'd taken summer school after his sophomore year to make up missed class work and boost his grade point average. His junior year, he tried out for the football team and made it. He was a star player without Carl. His mother and sisters, and little Sean Hotchner came to every game. He went to college on a scholarship, and played his heart out until he was injured his knee on the field. But if not for that, he might have never found his way here; back to friends he made over a decade ago, and never really forgot.

And Penelope? Well, today, it's been thirteen years since her parents' accident, and she can see no better tribute to their lives and memory than to get together with lifelong friends. Ashley isn't with them, but she has sent flowers - yellow roses - with a card. "I'm so sorry for your loss and the part my family played in your pain. Thinking of you today and always, Ashley." Penelope brings them along when they all get together that evening, feeling certain they will brighten up an already luminous kitchen. In the subsequent years since high school, Penelope has poured herself into being the best she possibly could…hacking and other not-so-great decisions notwithstanding. She does her best to combat the depression that is with her like a constant companion with cheer and optimism. She looks at crime scene photos and they still shake her, but not as much as if she has to pull up the file on car fire. That is always the worst. She still does not like driving, but tonight, Emily drove, and it reminded Penelope of old times in high school. She almost burst out in some choir tunes, but Emily made her promise not to sing. Because she loves Emily, Penelope agrees to a ride without any serenading. Instead, she balances the roses on her lap carefully and makes sure they don't topple over.

Today, they are standing in Dave's kitchen, as he gives them a cooking lesson. Though he never went to culinary school, his passion for food has never lessened over the ensuing years. He joined the military after high school, seeing no other way to get himself on the right path in life. Dave always had needed things in the extreme in order for them to make an impact. He's been in the profiling business a little longer than all of them. He still feels like he knows more. That extra year he has on Penelope - and more, on the rest - means something. It means he's got wisdom. Tonight, he's sharing his wisdom in the kitchen, with everyone but Ashley, who couldn't make it. Her flowers it seems, though, could. They sit off to the side. Out of the way, but present enough to let Dave's guests know that she, too, is as welcome as they are.

"Sorry I'm late," Spencer apologizes, walking in just as Dave is in the midst of telling the rest of them about the timing, rhythm and artistry of cooking spaghetti carbonara. Dave tries not to comment on the extreme lateness, but finds he can't resist. He isn't used to an audience, and he isn't used to one that isn't prompt, especially when it comes to food. Still, he gives Spencer the benefit of the doubt. They've all had a hard year.

"Yeah, and this is why I cook alone," Dave returns, a little miffed but more likely thinking back to the first cooking lesson he ever gave. And to young Spencer, his very first willing student.

JJ turns a little, at the island in the kitchen. She meets Spencer's eye, a silent question. In Oklahoma, he had made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that he did not trust her. He asked if she would have allowed him to use drugs again, and he called her Jennifer, which not one of them has done since Ashley, when they were teenagers. The accusations hurt. His behavior, and the way he clearly wants to do something else to cope with his feelings and blame it on her hurts. But JJ knows this isn't her fault. Still, she waits, holding her breath.

His smile is all she needs to be assured that everything is okay. Spencer is still struggling, of course. He is still trying to make sense of everything that has happened over the past few months and her role in it, but for now, everything is okay. Spencer is willing to put it behind him. He seems better, and because of that, so is she.

"So, uh," Emily interjects, eagerly. "When do we get to drink the wine?" She has been looking forward to this, but hasn't dared try for it, since JJ experienced a sharp reprimand, moments before. Apparently, wine-consumption requires as much timing and rhythm as the rest. Emily can feel her scar pulling taut as she stands. She wonders if Penelope's feels the same in moments when she does not expect it.

Dave continues stirring the pasta intently. "Almost there," he says, and stops. "Okay." He rubs his hands together, anticipating this. Remembering quarantining all the boys in the parenting room at the church in Chicago and telling them sternly that they were there because they needed parenting. This isn't so different. "We start at the beginning. You eat what you cook. I'll supervise. And we're gonna do this…all together…just like a family…" his words are measured and pleasant. He is enjoying this. Enjoying having all of them standing in his kitchen. JJ cuts the moment short.

"Okay, now?" she asks, holding up her glass of wine readily.

"Now," he echoes, and toasts them all.

All around the room, glasses clink, as they look forward to spending days together, just as they did, years ago. They smile at each other, and swear silently that no matter what might happen, they will not lose each other again. They will hold tightly to one another, and bravely face whatever life has for them, knowing that they are never alone.