AN: Wow... this is going to be difficult. I'll go ahead and say that this is going to be a very dark one-shot, probably darker than anything that I've written up to this point (seriously, read at your own discretion, please). This one-shot is centered around the lyrics of "One," a song from Metallica. I'm skipping some of the verses and using the ones that I deem significant (there is also a little mix-up in the order of the lyrics, too). The character that is in danger was picked randomly, so I had no control over who was chosen (might have been easier if I did, but I embrace the challenge). I'm a little afraid of this one and how far it should go, so I may keep it on a leash. *DISCLAIMER* I do not own Criminal Minds or the song "One" by Metallica. Think I'll title this one "Paralyzed."

Pigtails bobbed as her earphones pumped out her favorite tunes. Her fingers zipped around the keyboard, clicking and clacking. Like magic, the information popped right up on her screen, and she reached out for the phone beside her.

"My fearless king, I have the answers you seek," she said as Hotch picked up on the other end. She looked through the windows of the conference room that she was in and saw a delivery man enter the police department. He set a package down on the closest table to the door and walked away.

"Go ahead, Garcia."

"There is a guy who lives in the area of all three bombings. Name is Anthony McGregor, he's 30. He retired from the military after suffering an injury in his second tour in Iraq that left him paralyzed from the waist down. Two months ago, his wife and daughter were killed in a car accident on the way to his daughter's soccer practice."

"Anything else, Garcia?"

"Says that he specialized in the use of grenades and the construction and use of other explos... Oh my God..." Everything was starting to click. The cardboard box on the desk, the man that dropped it off and left without a word. The delivery man was in a wheel chair...

"What is it?"

"Sorry, boss, no time to explain. Gotta' go!" She dropped the phone and rushed out of the conference room.

"Leave that box alone," she screamed as a cop approached it, stopping him in his tracks and forcing everyone to turn their heads. "It's a bomb!"

Too late. A few blocks away, a man in a wheelchair looked at his watch. In his lap was a detonator, and he was itching to press the button. Patience, he told himself, Three... two... one... click.

BOOOOOM! A large burst of light followed by flames everywhere. She was tossed to the side before she even knew what hit her, landing flat on her back. Sirens blared from the fire department down the street as blackness covered her like a blanket.

I can't remember anything

Can't tell if this is true or dream

Deep down inside I feel the scream

This terrible silence stops it there

She walked through a field of golden wheat. The sun shined bright and the sky was as clear as her best friend's blue eyes. A light breeze stroked through her hair. Was this heaven? Because if it was, it certainly was a beautiful place. She skipped along in the field for a few moments, savoring the sheer joy that it brought her. But all was not right, and soon clouds rushed in, blocking out the sun. She stopped skipping and frowned, concerned that it may rain. Unfortunately, rain wasn't the issue. A single bolt of lightning dropped down from the ever darkening clouds, catching a patch of wheat and setting it ablaze. The fire spread quick, to her absolute dismay.

Wake up, she thought to herself. For God's sake, Penelope Garcia, wake up! But for reasons unknown to her, she couldn't. She was trapped with no option but to try to outrun the inferno.

The team burst through the door to the hospital and Hotch frantically asked the receptionist where Garcia was.

"Emergency Room," she answered after checking her records, "If you'd please stay in the waiting room, we'll notify you when we know anything different."

"Thank you," Hotch said, but he was lost in his own thought as they headed to the waiting room.

JJ collapsed into a chair and immediately started crying. They had been through this before, when Garcia had been shot, but she had a bad feeling about this one.

Reid took the seat next to her, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her in, letting her cry on his shoulder. Silent tears dropped from his eyes, but he stayed strong. He stayed strong for Garcia, for JJ, for all of them.

"Damn it," Morgan shouted as he slammed a fist into the wall. But then he spun around and began to slide down the wall until he was sitting. He covered his face, but the force of his tears shook his entire frame. How? How could this happen to her?

Prentiss knelt down beside Morgan and took his hand, trying to provide what little comfort she could. Her eyes were bleary, but she wasn't crying completely.

On the far end of the room sat Hotch and Rossi. Both men had dazed looks on their faces, a pure sign of disbelief. This couldn't be happening...

Fed through the tube that sticks in me

Just like a wartime novelty

Tied to machines that make me be

Cut this life off from me

"Penelope Garcia," the doctor read off as he entered the room. All of the team members looked up, not a dry eye in the bunch at this point. "I'd like you to come with me."

They followed the doctor to the ICU, where they saw Garcia hooked up to a respirator.

"I'm sorry to say this, but she isn't in good condition," the doctor began, "Over fifty percent of her body is burned, some parts more severely than others. As you can probably tell, she's in a comatose state right now. There is no telling when she'll wake up... if she'll wake up."

"She will wake up," Morgan stated, glaring at the doctor.

Darkness imprisoning me

All that I see

Absolute horror

I cannot live

I cannot die

Trapped in myself

Body my holding cell

"Right now, her mind is still active. She didn't suffer any brain damage, which would be good, except for that she's in a coma."

"That's still better than having permanent brain damage, though, right," Prentiss asked, struggling through her grief to figure out what the doctor was trying to say.

"Not exactly," he responded, "It means that her thoughts are still there, but she has no control over any other part of herself. Her body is like a prison, and her mind is the captive."

"No," JJ mumbled, completely crushed, "No, no, no." She rushed out of the room, no longer able to handle any of it. Hotch was about to follow her, but Reid made the move instead.

"I'll go be with her, Hotch," he said, "You stay here."

Hotch nodded as the young genius hurried after JJ before glancing back to the doctor.

"What are our options here, doctor?"

The doctor sighed. "There are two main options. One is that we keep her on the respirator and pray that by some sort of miracle, she gets better. However, she'll probably be going through hell until she wakes."

"What are the chances," Emily asked.

"Not impossible," the doctor said, "but slim to none."

"And option number two," Rossi asked, already knowing the answer and not liking it one bit.

"We could take her off of life support and let her rest in peace. She has you listed as next of kin, Agent Hotchner, so that will be up to you. I'm sorry that this has happened."

"Thank you, doctor," Hotch said, and the doctor departed with a nod.

"There is no way that we are taking her off of life support, Hotch," Morgan growled.

"Relax, Derek, we aren't making any decisions yet. The team is a family, we'll make this decision together."

Now the world is gone I'm just one

Oh God, help me

Hold my breath as I wish for death

Oh please God, help me

When a friend trusts you with their life, what do you do? Do you force them to live on in pain, hoping that maybe, just maybe, you'll be able to hear their voice again one day? Do you let them pass on into a happier place, knowing that you may never see them again? These were just a few of the questions that perplexed Hotch and his team as they tried to figure out what to do. As it began to dawn on them that this decision would be too difficult for them to make, Garcia continued to fight through her own nightmare, desperately trying to wake up.

AN: That's the hardest thing I've ever had to write, and I don't think I can do any more tonight, so I think I'll stop it here. Sorry to the Garcia fans, I really didn't want it to be her... that was hard. *sigh* I have a feeling that this one is a little choppy. It is a little late and besides, this one got to me. It was hard to write and think about something like this happening while still trying to focus on my best writing. I hope that it is good, but if not, then I may have to look back over it. Please feel free to review! Support would be great since I'm a little unsure about this one, but I'm definitely open to constructive criticism, too. And if you catch any grammatical errors (since I didn't proofread the whole thing), then please feel free to point them out. Thanks!