Elle would characterize herself as a morally and mentally strong person all the time. She could bring her head out from being under and bounce back. That was until the Fisher King case where she was attacked and shot in her own home, the one place she was supposed to feel safe in. Ever since, it was like a dark cloud surrounded her. That cloud led her to question her place in the BAU, in the world, and eventually to quitting her job.

She had disappeared from their lives, moving across the country to escape her old life, to actually take her life back and own herself again. She deserved that. She had every right to feel safe in her own skin.

It was six months later and she still felt like she had to look over her shoulder every time she walked down the street to her new favorite coffee shop. Just in case, she needn't really worry. It was one of the times she swore someone was walking in step with her, matching her cadence, that she turned around to look and saw nothing. When she turned around and continued walking that she bumped into you, spilling her hot coffee all over your blouse, ruining the pristine white.

"Oh my g-, I am... so sorry. Here let me...," Elle closes her mouth and tries to wipe the stain off.