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Dana stood in her office,blinking at the empty space where Jake had just stood.

She’d been expecting a fight.

Not getting one hurt worse.

She was used to butting heads with him, but this was different. It was like he was giving up, and that wasn’t like him. It was clear he needed space, but there wasn’t time. This case was more important than either of them, and they were running out of time.

The sun had set; it was reaping hour.

Dana found Jake on the porch. He was drinking out of a coffee mug—like she didn’t know it was filled with bourbon. She’d seen the bottle he stashed above the fridge. And how it held less and less each day. She took the mug, downed a sip to confirm her suspicions, then poured the rest over the porch railing.

Jake muttered a swear. “That’s Blanton’s Special Release!”

“And?”

“And it costs too much to dump into your shrubs.”

“Well, the time for brooding into your bourbon is over. We have a killer loose in D.C., and it doesn’t seem like anyone else is doing anything to find him, so I need your help.”

“Dana, can we not do this now?”

“This is precisely the time to do this. You’re pissed so just tell me why so I can fix it and we can move on.”

“Move on?” he scoffed bitterly. “Trust me there is nothing more I’d rather do.”

“Jake, what’s going on? Why won’t you just talk to me?”

“Because, you’re just going to say something to convince me you’re right, because you’re always right.”

“About what?”

“Everything. Nothing.” He sighed heavily and raked a hand down his face. She could see the fatigue lining his eyes when he finally looked at her. “You pushed her too far today, Dana.”

“You were there when I asked Claire to help. She wanted to. She’s stronger than you give her credit for, you know.”

Jake’s anger sparked quickly as he stood, pointing back toward the house. “Maybe she’s strong, but what we made her do in there … that is not helping things.”

“Neither is ignoring the fact that she’s troubled. More troubled than either of us have the capacity for in the middle of all of this.”

“So what, you want to lock her up at St. Elizabeth’s with Meredith?”

The sharpness in Jake’s voice stung, but Dana resisted her urge to bite back. He lashed out when he was hurt. The last thing she wanted was to hurt him further. “No,” she said calmly. “But we have to be realistic. I’m working with the BAU, and you have family obligations once your suspension is up. Claire needs a professional who can help her make sense of whatever she’s battling. You saw how her session ended. She saw herself in the hallway. That means she blames herself for whatever demons she has locked away.”

“People lock things away in their subconscious for a reason, Dana.”

“Yes. And you and I both know that doesn’t do any good.” She crossed the space between them and touched his chin, begging him to hear her. “Demons rule in darkness. They need to be dragged out into the light and dealt with if we’re ever to find peace.”

When he didn’t answer she said, “It’s what I want, Jake. For all of us. A chance for peace in this life.”

Jake laughed. “Anything else? Why not end war and hunger while we’re at it?”

It was a good sign that Jake’s sarcastic humor returned, but Dana was too tired to continue dancing around their issues. “I’m serious, Jake. We don’t know who this Reaper is, but Claire’s a target, you’re suspended, I’m working with the BAU … I don’t know the right move, but I know we stand a better chance if we face it together.”

He shook his head. “You said it. I’m suspended. I hate it, but my hands are tied.”

“That’s never stopped us before,” she pressed.

A hint of interest sparked beneath the calm blue waters of his gaze. “What do you have in mind?”