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Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Author's Note: Many, many thanks to my wonderfully codependent email buddy Jade who got Muse distracted with the idea of writing a Criminal Minds fic and then had the grace to stick around and read this thing in bits and pieces, offering kind words of advice, helpful suggestions, and the occasional kick in the ass that was needed to keep things moving after the 'hey, this is a fun idea' feeling disappeared.
Author's Note, part 2: Please note the 'Mature' rating on this story. It does contain explicit sexual content between two consenting adult women. If this is not your thing, or you are not of legal age in your country, please go find a different story to read.
Take My Hand and Show Me the Way
By: MJ Duncan
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Part One
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CHAPTER
1
The sound of a two-by-four making contact with a human skull is surprisingly quiet, more of a hollow thwump than anything else. A little wet, perhaps with a quiet crunch where bone caves under the force of violently swung lumber, but certainly not the loud, explosive sound you would expect from such a devastating connection of bone and wood.
"Fuck! Prentiss is down!" Morgan yelled as he jumped over his partner who had dropped to the dusty, scarred hardwood floor, obviously unconscious from the blow. He paused for a moment as he stood protectively over his partner, surveying the now deserted living room carefully, each of his senses on high alert for another attack when he caught sight of a plaid shirt disappearing around the corner and knew right where the suspect was headed. "He's going out the back, through the kitchen!"
"Go," Aaron Hotchner, who had entered the house from the back door with Rossi before turning into the adjoining dining room, ordered as he dropped to a knee beside his fallen agent, his fingers automatically gliding over the woman's neck in search of a pulse. "Go get him Derek. I'll take care of Emily."
Reid and JJ had taken a route through the open garage that was full of dismantled electronics and stacks of yellowed magazines and came into the house the moment Morgan started yelling. The door from the garage entered directly into the worn, grimy kitchen so JJ immediately caught sight of Jameson Quinn, the unsub they'd been hunting in this quiet fishing hamlet for the last three days, running through the grungy room toward the back door that was standing wide open.
"I see him!" JJ yelled as she took off at a sprint, more determined than ever to take down the man responsible for the murders of seven visiting fishermen.
Spencer Reid followed, but stopped when he was only a few feet into the kitchen, unsure as to what he should do, as he watched JJ take off after the Quinn. "Reid, in the living room, now!" Hotch's voice broke through his confusion and he immediately turned toward his boss' voice.
JJ, having a fast first step that had served her well in her playing days, was racing out the backdoor mere seconds after Quinn. She wasted no time leveling her weapon on the man as she jumped off of the porch and began to give chase, pushing herself to go faster as she raced after the suspect who was making a beeline toward the dense tree line that framed the patchwork lawn. "FBI!" she shouted as she ran, her arm steady, her heartbeat even. She could run for miles before she would lose her breath, she could chase him all day before her aim wavered.
"Give it up Quinn!" Morgan bellowed as he gained ground on JJ and the man she was chasing. He grunted softly as he forced his legs to pump faster, as he drove his feet harder into the ground, desperate catch up to JJ, who had a head start on him, to make sure that he got between her and Quinn. He knew that Emily would shoot him from her hospital bed if he let anything happen to the team's communications liaison, and the big-brother protective side of him wanted nothing more than to take the man down, and take him down hard for the attack on Prentiss.
"Fuck you!" Quinn yelled over his shoulder as he tried to put on an extra burst of speed.
That snarled curse was enough to spur Morgan onward and he found that fifth gear he'd been racing toward as he sprinted past JJ to close that final distance and take the other man down with a perfectly-timed flying tackle. "You're under arrest," he grunted as he pushed his elbow into the man's back, making sure to grind the point into his spine. "You have the right to remain silent. And I sincerely fucking recommend you utilize that right."
Quinn grunted and flailed, spitting as he fought to force the dirt out of his mouth that he had taken a bite out of when the bigger Agent had landed on him. He writhed and fought as his hands were roughly pulled behind his back, but he also understood the unspoken promise of pain in Morgan's voice and wisely opted to shut up.
"Suspect is in custody," JJ reported into her radio as she watched Morgan slap his cuffs onto Quinn and cinch them a notch tighter than was really necessary. Once the line was closed, she turned the full weight of her gaze onto Emily's partner. "I heard you yell, what happened to Em?"
"Big man here," Morgan grunted as he pushed down onto the still wriggling suspect's back, "thought it'd be fun to play t-ball with Prentiss' face. Caught us by surprise as we rounded the corner and smacked her with a two by four."
JJ felt her heart clench in her chest and she had to fight back the suddenly overpowering urge to take her gun back out and shoot the man. "Is she awake?"
Morgan shook his head. "She was unconscious when I left her," he shared. He looked up at the blonde, easily reading the distress and anger in her sparking blue eyes. "I got this, go check on our girl."
Wanting nothing more than to check on Emily, JJ did not argue with him. Instead, she gave him a small, thankful smile and a curt nod before she turned on her heel to run back into the house. Adrenaline combined with her training had made her take off after the suspect, outright fear and terror had her sprinting back toward Emily. She was so focused on getting to Emily that she barely noticed Rossi and the local cops as she passed them, the entirety of her focus was leveled on finding the dark-haired woman who had occupied her dreams for months and making sure that she would be okay.
"Where is he?" Reid asked as she thundered into the old house, her footsteps falling loudly against the old wood floors as she hit the dining room. She never slowed until she could see Emily, and, even then, her gait only slowed to a hurried walk as she approached the spot where the brunette lay unmoving on the floor.
She crouched down beside her fallen friend, her eyes raking over Emily's injuries. The right side of the brunette's face was already purple and swollen with a distinct red line cutting across her brow and up over her forehead which JJ assumed was from the edge of the board Jameson Quinn had used to knock her unconscious. "Derek's got him," she answered distractedly as she ran her fingers softly over the curve of Emily's brow, gently moving dark silk away from seeping crimson as she studied the wound. "I passed Rossi and some of the local PD when I was coming back inside. They're probably frog marching him out to a cruiser now. Where's Hotch?"
"Clearing upstairs. I already called for a bus," Reid informed her as he watched her appraising the extent of Prentiss' injury. "Two, actually, just in case we find Zach."
"Good thinking," JJ murmured as she let her fingers rest upon Emily's lips, drawing strength from the feeling of warm air moving against her fingertips. Emily was breathing. Emily would be okay.
Emily had to be okay.
"I got him!" Hotch's triumphant voice echoed down the stairs. JJ and Reid shared a look of relief, and she nodded at him to go upstairs to help their boss.
"Where's the downed agent?" a bodiless voice called out from the foyer.
"Living room!" JJ yelled as she looked up to watch the paramedics approach. "There is also a victim upstairs with Agent Hotchner and Dr. Reid."
"Got it," the younger of the two men confirmed as he took off up the stairs to find the agents.
"What happened?" the older, sandy-haired paramedic asked as he dropped to a knee beside Emily and wasted no time taking her vitals.
"The suspect ambushed her with a two by four," JJ shared as she watched the medic slip a penlight out of his breast pocket to check Emily's pupil response.
"Any other injuries other than the head wound that we need to know about?"
"No," JJ answered. "No preexisting medical conditions, no allergies to medications."
"Alright," the paramedic said as he reached into his bag to retrieve a neck brace. "I'm assuming you've had basic field medic training. Can you help hold her head as still as possible while I fit this?" he asked as he turned toward JJ for the first time.
JJ's eyes automatically flicked down to read the medic's nametag, Thompson, and nodded as she moved from Emily's side to above her head. She gently cradled Emily's head in her hands as she watched him fit the white plastic brace around Emily's neck.
"Is she going to be okay?" she asked, as she watched him lean in closer to have a good look at Emily's wound.
"Hard to tell. Depends on if there's any intracranial bleeding," he told her honestly. "I've pulled people out of car wrecks that have looked worse that did just fine, so I'm optimistic," he replied as he began cleaning the area around the cut.
JJ stayed by her head as he continued to take care of Emily, feeling tears build in her eyes as he checked off some of the brunette's potential injuries. Part of her was glad that he was including her, but a larger part of her wished that he'd just shut up. The details were scary.
"Grade three concussion," he rattled on, "looks like a possible break on the zygomatic bone, definite break on the inferior orbital rim, from what I can tell that's where the board first made contact so that area took the majority of the force."
"Oh god," JJ murmured as she followed Thompson's pointing finger toward Emily's cheek.
"Frontal bone looks intact," he continued as if she had not spoken. "Breathing is even… heartbeat is regular… all things considered she's doing as well as could be expected."
"Unit oh six on scene," Thompson's radio crackled to life causing the medic's weathered face to break out into a relieved grin. "Thank god," he muttered. "Billy, is that you?"
"Yeah," the voice answered.
"Great. John is upstairs with two agents and the victim. We're going to need all hands on deck."
"Got it."
"Hank?" a voice called from the foyer.
"Finally," Thompson sighed, as he looked up and offered JJ a reassuring smile. "Living room Charlie."
Charlie bounced the stretcher topped with a backboard and yet another bag of supplies over the uneven planks of the floor and dropped the bed to its lowest setting as he came to a stop beside Emily.
"Help me get her on the board," Thompson instructed before he began rattling off the details of Emily's injury as he moved to Emily's side. "Do you still have her?" he asked JJ as he placed his left hand on Emily's thigh and his right on her side in preparation to roll her up enough to slide the bright yellow backboard under her.
JJ nodded. "Yes." Always.
"Good, on three," Thompson instructed. "One… two… three, easy now," he murmured as JJ stabilized Emily's head and Charlie slid the board into position. "Good," he muttered as they settled Emily into the center of the board. "Alright, let's get her secured."
JJ refused to leave her position at Emily's head, her fingers smoothing over the brunette's face distractedly as she watched the paramedics begin strapping Emily to the rigid slab of plastic with four fat straps of Velcro across her body. Foam blocks were stuck to the board on either side of her head to keep it still and the head strap was tightened over those so that the abrasive fabric did not come into contact with Emily's head.
Just as the last strap was cinched into place, Reid and Hotch appeared at the top of the stairs with Zachary Paulson standing between them. The young, wiry fisherman had a hand on each of the agent's arms for support and the paramedic JJ assumed to be John was standing behind them keeping a careful eye on the victim. "Thank god," JJ murmured as she took in the sight of the man they had been working to save for the last seventy-two hours.
"Well done," Thompson muttered as he smiled at the sight of the missing fisherman before he turned his attention back to the agent under his care. "Let's get her up onto the stretcher Charlie, you ready?"
Charlie nodded and JJ held her breath as she stood and backed away to allow the paramedics to move Emily. She chewed her lip to keep herself from warning the paramedics to be careful as she watched the two men carefully lift Emily onto the stretcher. She only let the breath out once they started buckling her onto the gurney.
"We're taking her to Memorial," Thompson informed them as he snapped the stretcher up to its full height.
JJ nodded as she moved in closer to place her hand on Emily's stomach as she watched Hotch guide Zachary Paulson toward the new paramedic team that had just raced up the walk and into the house. "I'm going with her."
"Ma'am," Charlie started to argue, but the moment he saw the fire sparking in JJ's fierce blue eyes he knew that his arguments would mean nothing to her. He'd seen that look before, the nearly rabid, fiercely protective look that people got when the person they loved was injured, and knew that he could argue with her seven ways until Sunday and she would still jump into the back whether they wanted her to or not. "Okay."
JJ nodded and turned to look at Hotch when she felt his hand land lightly on her shoulder. "We're going back to the precinct with Quinn. Call us when you know something. We'll be there as soon as we can."
JJ nodded again and turned her attention back to Thompson. "Let's go!"
"I called ahead already, they're expecting us," Charlie shared as the two men got the stretcher moving toward the front door with JJ following closely behind.
"You have to be okay, Emily," she murmured to herself as she watched the paramedics roll her friend toward the open, waiting bay of the ambulance. She stood back and watched as the guys got the stretcher locked into the back and as soon as they gave her the okay, she hopped up into the back and immediately took her position beside Emily, reflexively reaching out to cradle the brunette's hand in her own.
"She should be fine," Thompson assured her as he busied himself with starting a line.
"She better be," JJ husked as she looked down at their joined hands and began to gently rub the pad of her thumb over Emily's knuckles.
"Mmmm," Emily's soft voice punctuated the quiet that had fallen over the cab as the ambulance raced toward the hospital.
"What's that?" JJ yelped as she looked from Emily, whose eyes were still closed, to the paramedic who had pulled out his penlight and was checking the brunette's pupil dilation.
"Active REM," he reported as he watched deep brown eyes flicking wildly from side to side. "She's dreaming."
"Dreaming?" JJ repeated.
The paramedic shrugged. "It's not uncommon, and it's actually a good sign."
"Two minutes," Charlie's voice called over the speaker.
JJ turned her attention back to her hand wrapped protectively around Emily's. "What are you dreaming about Em?"
