I've written Twilight, and Harry Potter, and this is my first time writing a fic that's not based on books...so yeah. I hope this is ok.
CBS owns everything, I just wish I owned Shemar Moore...;)
Six years. It had been six years since Emily Prentiss had joined the BAU, and now she was leaving without telling anyone. They'd just finished a disturbing case in Wyoming, and she had finished typing her resignation letter. The bullpen was empty, as were all the offices. Everyone had gone home, even JJ and Hotch. The printer beside her whirred, and spat out the piece of paper that was officially ending her life in Virginia. She was leaving the bureau, and moving to Florida, to do something that wasn't going to have a chance of leaving her dead every week. She'd woken up in a hospital room once too many times, and her family were pressuring her to leave. And if she'd stayed, she'd have to deal with loving a man who'd made it clear that he didn't love her. There was nothing she could say to change Hotch's mind. He'd made it up, and there was nothing else that she could say or do to make him feel anything for her. She couldn't do anything about it, and she had to leave everything behind. Her strength was gone when it came to him, he had destroyed everything she had thought about their friendship, and Wyoming proved it. She'd been an idiot, and couldn't let him see her again.
The letter was signed, sealed, and she put the envelope on Hotch's desk, where he'd see it as soon as he got in in the morning.
Prentiss turned off the desk lamp, and walked out of the bullpen, down the elevator and walked out of the Quantico building.
"Morgan, is Prentiss in yet?" Aaron Hotchner walked through the bullpen, looking at everyone. They were all in, apart from Emily.
"Not yet, Hotch. Garcia said that her computer didn't shut off till after ten yesterday, she'll probably be in just before the briefing."
Hotch walked through, thinking about Emily. She'd confessed that she'd loved him in Wyoming, and he'd just turned her away like she was nothing. But she was everything. As soon as she arrived in he would tell her, even before the briefing. If it meant that he had to get down on his knees and beg her, he would. If he had to ask Strauss for a transfer, he would. The no-frat rule be damned, he'd make her realise that he hadn't meant to hurt her the way he had.
On his office, there was a small white envelope, with 'Agent Aaron Hotchner' on the front, in her handwriting. It was stuffed full, and looked like it could barely hold anything else in it.
There was one letter at the top, typed on official bureau paper.
Dear Agent Hotchner
I am writing to inform you of my decision to resign from the Behavioural Analysis Unit (BAU), and also the Federal Bureau of Investigation, with immediate effect. Please find enclosed my badge, and my standard-issue firearm is locked inside the drawer of my desk.
An identical letter has been sent to Section Chief, Agent Erin Strauss.
Aaron sank into his chair, trying to figure it out. Emily had resigned...but why? After a few seconds, he realised that there was another piece of paper in the envelope, and he pulled it out, snagging it on her badge.
I can't stay here anymore. You've told me your feelings, made them perfectly clear to me. And I did the same. They're just not compatible.
I told Strauss that I'm just not able to deal with this anymore, that the job's gotten too stressful. She knows nothing about us, the way I know you want it.
I'm going to Florida. As for what I'll do...that's undecided.
Aaron knew he'd been an idiot, but was that truly reason to be left without her? Why had Emily reacted so rashly? She'd never been like this, she'd never reacted in this way before. He could feel a tear welling up in his eyes, but there was no way that he could let it out. When the briefing was over, he could say 'wheels up', like always, go home and get his clothes, and cry all the way home and back.
"Hotch, we're all meeting now, alright? Emily's not in yet though." JJ popped her face in the door. She looked worried. "She's not answering her cell either, not her bureau one, or her personal one. I'm worried."
"JJ, I know what's happening. If you can get the team together for briefing, I'll explain everything. Where're we heading now?"
"Florida, and we're waiting for you." JJ walked away, leaving the door open. Hotch swallowed the lump in his throat, and followed her.
"Right, we've got a serial rapist on the loose in Orlando. He appears to be preying on brunette, beautiful women, either in their late thirties or early forties. All of them have recently been through a bad-break up, or are on the rebound. They've been attacked walking home from bars in the more touristy part of Orlando, which meant that police originally thought that only four women have been attacked, because tourists often report rape, but then refuse to go through rape kits."
"For religious reasons, or because they're too embarrassed to?" Spencer interjected.
"Both. Also because many of them were leaving the next day. When they realised there was a pattern to the rapes, they figured out that this guy has possibly raped upwards of fifteen people."
"So he preys on women who are hurting emotionally, who need support from a man, which means he's either exceptionally good looking, or exceptionally not good looking. He's the kind of guy who finds it either too difficult or too easy to pick up non-emotional women. And he has a specific type. Because rape isn't about sexual contact, but about power, it means that he is probably younger than his victims, I'd say probably twenty one, because he picks them up in bars, to thirty. He has a very specific type. If you look at all of them, they've grey eyes, brown hair so dark it's nearly black, and have pronounced, but fine features."
"They nearly look a bit like Prentiss...where is she, actually?" Morgan asked, looking at Hotch. The team followed his gaze, till they were all staring at him.
"Emily Prentiss is no longer a member of the BAU, and is no longer an agent in the FBI. Come on guys, I want wheels up in two hours." Hotch cut off any more questions by picking up his case folder, and leaving the room.
"Hotch!" Morgan called his name, jogging after him to catch up.
"What is it, Morgan?" Hotch just wanted to be alone, to be left to his own devices and thoughts, and be able to compose himself before dealing with everyone again, but Derek Morgan wasn't going to let him go.
"Hotch, I'm not stupid. Why did Emily go?"
"I don't know, Morgan. If I did, I'd be flying to wherever she is to get her back here. But she's gone, so we've got to make do with what we have, even if I know I'd much rather have her here with us now."
Morgan backed away, sensing his boss' emotions, and decided that there was no reason for him to continue with his questioning. Instead he walked along beside Hotch, a silence falling over the two men that couldn't be pidgeon holed into one particular type or not, it seemed to have a bit of everything in it.
Once they got outside, they nodded at each other, and turned in their separate directions. Hodge made his way to his red Toyota Prius, and sat in the drivers seat, before breaking down and sobbing into his arms at the steering wheel.