(12) Little Dark Age

You try to imagine what the rest of the team is doing right now. They probably found your phone. Which means they know that something happened. They probably found that your car is missing. Which means they are looking for you this second. You try to imagine how Garcia is going through the traffic cams to track down where you drove.

Then you imagine how Aaron feels. Thinking about the fear and stress he must be under makes you more anxious than the situation you're in right now. Your situation being that you're still sitting in front of Tim Foyet. Hands strapped together.

"What happens now?" You ask him.

"We wait."

"For what?"

"The BAU to find us."

"Why would you let that happen?"

"Oh, they'll find us. But they won't get you."

You swallow hard: "Are you going to kill me?"

He shakes his head and smiles: "I will put sweet Aaron through what I went through with my father. First, he won't know what happened to you. Then he gets to talk to you once, on the phone. And then…Well, we'll see how things go."

Think. He seems to have a time plan. Maybe you can screw it up when the team finds you sooner than he expects.

"I'd like to send some e-mails." You state.

Foyet laughs: "What for?"

"My paper is due tomorrow. I worked hard on it and it would be a shame if it wouldn't be published. I'd also like to send my assistants instructions on how to continue my lecture."

He stares at you.

"Ah, what the hell." He waves over one of the men standing nearby. "Get this woman a laptop."

He actually lets you log into your e-mail account. Of course, he is standing behind you to see what you're doing. You have to twist your hands to type, and the zip ties cut into your skin.

When you're done, you log out and close the laptop. You pray that Garcia noticed the activity on your account. Maybe she can trace where you were when you sent the mail.

"Alright then." Foyet claps his hands. "We should get ready for take-off."

"Where are we headed?"

"Ah," he makes a dismissive gesture, "don't worry about that."

One of the men grabs you by the arm and pulls you to your feet.

"Hey!" You rip your arm out of his grasp. "I can walk on my own."

Foyet nods at him and he backs off. Silently, you follow him onto the jet. It reminds you of the team's jet and your heart gets heavy. The seats even have the same color. It's literally…

"Did you get the same jet?"

"Glad you noticed."

"Nice touch." You mumble and sit down at the table.

- - - - - - - - - -

This shit gets more surreal within the second. You're also petrified when you think about how Aaron must feel about this. You cannot imagine the amount of guilt he must feel.

The jet is prepared and rolls out of the hangar. Desperate, you look out of the window, hoping that for some reason someone sees your face and stops what's happening.

Then you hear it. The sirens.

You twist your head and see the platoon of SUVs and police cars. Your eyes water.

"Aaron." You whisper as if he could hear you.

Foyet sits down in front of you, enjoying the look on your face.

Knowing very well, that it's in vain, you nevertheless plead: "Please, let me go."

He just shakes his head as the engines of the plane roar to life, causing it to roll down the runway. The sirens get louder and a part of you is convinced that they must be fast enough to stop the plane from taking off.

Panicked, you look around. You know the outlet of the jet. A lightbulb hoes off in your head. There is an emergency handle to open the door. The jet accelerates.

You jump to your feet and run towards the door. Startled by your sudden movement, it takes Doyle a second to realize what you're doing. With a groan you manage to push the handle to the side and open the door. The plane is already going way faster than you anticipated. It's unlikely that you'll survive jumping out now. The other option doesn't seem more inviting, however.

One of the SUVs is speeding down the runway next to the plane. It's only the fraction of a second, but your and Aaron's eyes lock, before Foyet grabs you from behind and pulls you back into the plane. You scream and struggle and hit him, but one of his man grabs you as well and they drag you away from the door.

The cabin falls silent when the door is shut.

"That was stupid." Foyet states.

Panting, you get up. With shaky legs you walk back to your seat. Burying your face in your hands, you try to calm yourself down.

"Relax." He tells you with a smug voice. "Enjoy the flight."

With a wave of his hand, he orders for drinks. He pushes a glass filled with what you assume is vodka towards you. With a sigh, you take it and down the entire drink in one go.

You don't know what else to do, so you start taking to Foyet: "When did you hear about your father's death?"

He takes a sip of his drink and eyes you up and down. After putting it down, he tells you: "A few months after he was killed."

"Why didn't you find out about it sooner?"

"He told me that something was going on. That we couldn't see each other for some time and that he would call me when he was able to."

"And he did call you?" You lean closer to him.

"Yes. He told me that it would be over soon. That we could see each other again in a few days. When he didn't call again, I…" Foyet sighs.

"I'm sorry." You tell him. "I really am."

His demeanor changes and he leans back in his seat: "It's too late now, isn't it?"

The connection you built with him is lost, and it feels like the room cooled down. You lean back as well. Looking out of the window, you have to think about Aaron again. The fear in his eyes. Your breathing hitches and tears start to stream down your face.

- - - - - - - - - -

You're allowed to walk around the farmhouse during the day. The electronic ankle bracelet keeps you from leaving the premises anyways. It's been two weeks. You're not scared anymore. You're not even stressed. You're simply numb.

They didn't tell you where you are exactly, just that you're somewhere in the state of Tamaulipas, Mexico. You're able to keep busy during the day. But as soon as the sun sets, you cannot get the picture of Aaron in the SUV going down the runway out of your head. He must be losing his mind. The team must be losing their mind. But maybe they have given up? You vanished without a trace. For some reason, the jet entered Mexican air space without appearing on any record. Surely, they would have found you already if it had. You cannot really remember what happened after you landed. You don't know if the drive out here was long. Even if they found the jet, they have no way of knowing where you are now.

Foyet makes sure that you eat, and drink, and get fresh clothes every day. You talk to him during dinner, then you don't see him until next evening. By now, it almost feels normal. You're probably in the early stages of Stockholm Syndrome.

Right now, you're sitting on a bench under a tree, reading a book Foyet got you when you asked for it. Out of the corner of your eye you see him walk towards you. You put down the book and turn to him. It's weird to see him in daylight. He looks depleted.

He declares: "You get your phone call tonight."

It's the first time in days you really react to what's said to you and your eyes widen. You get up: "When?"

"Soon."

"How long am I allowed to talk to Aaron?"

"Depends on what you're saying."

"What does that mean?"

"If you try to tell him where you are, the call will be terminated immediately."

Looking at the grass-covered ground, you follow him inside.

You sit down at the table. A prepaid being handed to you. Staring at it, you ask with a small voice: "I won't see him again, will I?"

"No." Foyet states and sits down in front of you. His voice sounds compassionate. Almost apologetic.

"Okay." You nod and rub your free hand over your face.

Opening the contact list, you see that there is only Aaron's number saved. Taking a deep breath, you press the call button. With closed eyes, you listen to the dial tone.

"SSA Hotchner."

You inhale sharply at his voice. Somewhere along the way, you forgot how it sounds. He sounds tired.

"Aaron." You breathe out.

His voice shoots up as he says your name.

"Yeah, it's me."

"Where are you? Are you okay? Did he do anything to you?"

You can hear him get up from his chair, probably signaling for the others to trace the call.

"I'm okay." You assure him. "Tim takes good care of me."

Aaron holds his breath before asking with an astonished voice: "Tim? You're on first name base with that son of a-"

"Aaron." You interrupt him.

He falls silent.

You look at Foyet who observes you curiously. Your heart aches and the white noise in your ears gets louder.

"Stop looking for me."

"What!? Why would you say that?" Aaron's voice gets louder.

"It's a waste of time."

"We won't give up on you. I won't give up on you!" His voice starts to tremble. "Can you tell me where-"

"Stop. Just stop."

"Emilia, please. I don't understand."

"I don't want you to find me, okay!?" You yell. "Did you really think it would be this easy? We just meet, and fall in love, and your life is okay again? That's pathetic. Get a grip, Aaron."

Even Foyet looks shocked by your words.

"Please, just…" You're pretty sure he's crying.

"Goodbye, Aaron."

You hang up, hand Foyet the phone, and leave the room.

- - - - - - - - - -

The heat of the day vanished with the last rays of sunshine. Shivering, you put your jacket on, still sitting under the big tree outside. It's nice. The farm is the most beautiful and the ugliest place you've ever been to.

One of the guards makes his way over to you. His name is Luke. Tim employed him about a week after your last conversation with Aaron. He makes sure to replace the guards every other week so that you don't get to built rapport with them. You tried it once, it didn't end well for the guard.

"Beer?" Luke asks you, offering you a bottle.

"Sure." You take it.

He's a tall, black-haired man, probably Latino. When he's about to sit down next to you, you tell him: "Don't. Tim doesn't like it when I talk to other people."

Luke raises an eyebrow.

"I don't want you to get in trouble." You add.

He looks at you for a long moment before he nods: "Okay." Then he walks back to the house.

You sigh and rub your face. Until now, Tim kept his promise of not hurting you. But you don't know for how long you'll be able to keep it together. You lost everything. You cannot talk to anybody, except Tim – which you try to avoid, because it really starts to fuck up your judgement. You already sympathized with him enough.

Tonight, however, you make an exception and look for him.

"Tim?" You call when you enter the house.

"The library."

Sitting down in the armchair in front of the fireplace, you wait until he turns his head towards you. He's been getting worse. His eyes are sunken in.

"How long will you keep this up?" You ask him straight away. "We cannot stay here forever."

It takes him a few seconds to process what you said. You see the half-empty bottle of whisky on the floor next to him.

"No, we can't."

"So, what's your plan, now that you got what you wanted?"

"I didn't get anything." He mumbles, barely audible.

You observe his facial expression.

"Tim, what's going on with you?"

When he finally meets you gaze, you see how sad his eyes are.

"I spent every day, since I found out about my father's death, planning this. And now…there is just nothing left of me."

"That's not true. You're finally able to move on. You can build your own life now."

Suddenly, he jumps to his feet, throwing the glass in his hand into the fire. It shatters, making a loud noise.

"Move on to what?" Tim yells.

His outburst doesn't even make you twitch. You're in a cloud of numbness, shielding you from any emotion. "There is nothing! How am I supposed to build something? And you-" he interrupts his screaming to turn to you, "you're kinder to me than anyone has ever been."

"Even than your father?"

"Yes! That's the problem."

"Oh." You lean back in the chair. "But you cannot let me go, because you don't want me to be with Aaron again."

He shakes his head no.

"I don't want to get back with Aaron."

"What?" His eyes widen in shock.

You tilt your head: "Being away, being here, made me realize how stupid, how blind I was. I simply want to go back to work. It's the only thing that matters. Everything else is a waste of time."

It's silent after that for a long time. Eventually, Tim sits back down, staring at the floor.

"You sound earnest."

"I am. But I want to keep working at the BAU."

His eyes dart over your face and you see his shoulders relax.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes."

You get up and grab the bottle of whisky. Then you get two glasses, fill them up, and hand one to Tim.

"I'm sorry." He tells you, looking you in the eyes.

You finish your drink.

"I know."

- - - - - - - - - -

Commotion wakes you up in the middle of the night. Quickly, you get out of bed, putting on your clothes hastily. You can make out people yelling at each other. Sprinting downstairs, you try to locate where everyone is.

In the hallway, you run into Tim: "What's going on?"

His eyes are full of panic: "They're coming."

"Who is?"

"The fucking cavalry."

You run past him, coming to a stop on the front porch. Bright lights are coming closer. It takes you a few seconds until you understand what you're seeing. The lights belong to cars. It must be at least six or seven, coming your way.

The guards are already outside, weapons at the ready, aiming towards the SUVs.

"Stand down!" You scream. Everyone looks at you. "It will be a bloodbath. Don't shoot."

They hesitate.

"She's right." Tim suddenly appears behind you. "Lower your weapons."

They do. "Throw them away and sit on the ground." You order. Again, they follow your instructions.

You stand still. The air is heavy. You can hear everyone holding their breath. And the sound of the cars coming closer. Your figure is lit up from behind as the lights are on in the house behind you. Your heart is pounding. It has to be the FBI. Probably accompanied by the CIA.

With screeching tires, the cars stop.

The doors open, agents piling out of the cars. Your whole body starts to shake, and your knees are about to give out. Most of them immediately go forth and arrest the guards that are sitting on the ground.

Then you see your team. Prentiss and Morgan are the first ones you can make out. Just looking at them makes you cry. Hot tears start run down your face while you keep standing still, overwhelmed by the scenery.

A tall figure walks towards you with long strides. At first you don't believe it, your brain not catching up to what's happening. But when your eyes meet, you know it's real.

Sprinting the last few steps, Aaron rushes over to you hug you.

You're just with him for maybe thirty seconds. Then the rest of the team arrives, everyone hugging you, kissing your cheeks, crying just as much as you do.

- - - - - - - - - -

Luke helps collecting the weapons and handling the guards into the SUVs. You start to laugh. He salutes you: "Luke Alvez, FBI."

Then a CIA agent brings Tim outside. You gently get out of JJ's embrace and walk over to him. They stop and you pull Tim into a hug. His hands cuffed behind his back, he is not able to hug you back, but lays his head on your shoulder.

"You'll be fine." You tell him.

When you take a step back, he nods at you, silently walking to the SUV the agent leads him to.

You're so tired and overwhelmed that the rest of the night (and day) is blurry. The next time you're fully conscious again, is when you're back in D.C. The change in environment is confusing and disorientating. You find yourself staring at familiar sights until you remember why they are familiar. Like the park you used to pass on the way to work. You don't talk much on the drive to the office. You also keep away from Hotch. It's even more overwhelming to be close to him again.

Prentiss and Reid are the one who talk with you in the interrogation room to record your statement and description of events. They also take the time to tell you how they built a task force, kept looking for you, and finally how they smuggled in Alvez.

"He wore a wire so that we could time our operation."

"That was risky."

"Hotch explained the situation, and Alvez accepted."

You sigh.

"It was clever to convince Foyet that you don't want to be with Aaron again." Prentiss tells you.

"That wasn't difficult. I simply told the truth."

Bewildered, Prentiss and Reid stare at you.

You look at the one-way mirror as you know the rest of the team is standing behind it.

"I meant what I said. Every single word."