Hi all! This is my first Criminal Minds one-shot and I'm very proud of it. I hope you enjoy reading it! I should be updating my other story, 'When We Were Young' sometime this week when inspiration strikes me! I have two scenes I need to link and am having trouble getting it right. But I'll do my best! This story involves all the team but the main focus is on Hotch and Emily; not in a romantic way as I hate (seriously hate!) couples on CM that don't exist. This is a friendship fanfiction :) Please feel free to review and let me know what you think. Enjoy!
Why did they always run? It was like they knew she'd had little sleep; nightmares from old cases haunting her mind despite her ability to compartmentalise; and was fatigued from working deep into the hours of the night trying to catch the son of a bitch who was abducting young women from parks in Cambridge, Massachusetts and torturing them before brutally stabbing them and ditching their bodies in the parks they were originally taken from. The BAU, after four days of getting no closer to catching the unsub, finally discovered a pattern in his behaviour. The unsub, who their profile revealed as being a male Caucasian in his late 20s who was abducting women around his age to replace a woman who had recently left him, had been taking a woman on the Sunday night and dumping her lifeless body on the Friday. Six women had turned up so far, dumped in different parks. Reid had suggested that he wasn't returning back to the same parks in the town because he didn't want to be caught at a crime scene. This played to their advantage, and that Sunday night Hotch had paired them all up to surveillance the remaining four parks in Cambridge.
Unfortunately, Emily had been paired with a less-than-enthusiastic cop; the last person she'd wanted to be partnered with as they walked around Crescent Park in late hours of the night. It would have been pitch black except for the equally spaced lamps which were towering at the edge of the pathways around the play area and open green spaces, but it was still pretty dark, and although Emily could handle her own, she still felt out of place as the cool November wind danced around her face, sending shivers down her spine. The park they were in was surrounded by thick woodland, which would provide good cover for the unsub if he was lurking in this park, searching for his next victim. If he was here, then she was gonna get him. Any cases which involved women usually affected her in one way or another and after looking at photos of heavily bruised faces, broken bones and burned skin she refused to let another civilian be subjected to this bastards sadistic ways.
Walking along the paths, her and her partner passed a number of people; joggers, dog walkers, couples returning from late dinners and films, friends talking, teenagers underage drinking. Clearly JJ's earlier media conference warning people to avoid the parks late at night had fallen on deaf ears. Before she could contemplate people's idiocy any further, her phone vibrated. Hotch.
"Yeah Hotch?"
"Any luck so far?"
"Not yet," she sighed, looking around the area around her and at her partner. "Brooks and I have walked around twice now and found nothing suspicious but we'll keep looking. Any word from the others?"
"They haven't seen anything either. It's only 11pm so we'll keep looking until 1am and then rotate the shifts back to the remaining Cambridge police. We could all do with a good night's sleep."
Didn't she know it! Hanging up, she continued walking, listening to Brooks' footsteps behind her. Heading towards the more wooded area, she looked amongst the trees subtlety; not wanting to give away that she was purposely looking for someone in case the unsub was watching. Nothing.
"Well this is a darned waste of time!" Brooks moaned. "We've been walking around for hours now. Maybe he knows FBI is on to him and has given up for the night."
"No, he's compelled to take a woman on Sundays. He must have been betrayed, maybe dumped, on a Sunday. The pattern suggests that he'll strike tonight so we're gonna stay out here until we're ordered back. Complaining about it isn't gonna change anything!" she said, trying not to lose her cool with Brooks. Admittedly, this was the last place she wanted to be if she had a choice, but they had a job to do. Glaring at her, Brooks quickly walked off in front. Great, just what she needed, a pissed-off cop!
She was about to run to catch up when she heard a rustling to her left. Calling out for Brooks, she received no reply. Knowing this couldn't wait, she headed towards the noise which was coming from the woodland. It got louder and began to sound like footsteps. Pulling out her gun, she carefully made her way through the first of the trees. That's when she saw it, a dead dog lying amongst the fallen leaves in a pool of blood. She recognised it as one of the dogs she'd seen earlier, who was being walked by a woman. Holding her gun up, she continued along a man-made path which wove between the trees, picking up her pace when she heard a high-pitched scream. Running now, she finally caught a glimpse of the unsub. Even if he wasn't holding a gun in one hand and using the other to push the dog-walker up against a mighty oak tree, Emily knew he was their guy.
"Freeze, FBI! Put the gun down!" She shouted, keeping her gun trained on the unsub's chest. Then, the unsub did something unexpected, he pistol whipped the girl in the head, sending her crashing into the ground against the bark of the tree and fired his weapon at Emily at the same time. Emily quickly ducked, releasing her own hold on the trigger to fire back at the unsub, but the bullet ricocheted off a tree nearby where the unsub had been standing. Which bought her back to her original question, why did they always run?
Seeing that the woman was ok, she tossed her phone to her and ordered her to dial number 1; Hotch; and tell him to come to her location before running full speed into the woods in the direction the man had run. Feeling the wind smash against her Kevlar and attack her determined face spurred her on and she pushed herself to her limits, expertly avoiding the overhanging branches and upturned roots hiding under the grass and leaves. She caught up to the man, but before she could fire her weapon he fired his. She abruptly darted to the left to avoid the bullet's path and lost her balance. Her foot caught under a giant tree root and she went flying forward, landing in the thicket and smashing her head against a tree stump on the way.
Everything was blurry and the ground spun beneath her as she tried to get up. The slightest movement caused her head to pound and bile to rapidly rise from her stomach to her throat. Wincing, she felt around for her gun, quickly feeling the metal under her scratched up fingers, and attempted to stand again. Taking a deep breath to rid her body of nausea, she got onto her hands and knees and transferred her weight onto her right ankle. Pain shot up her nerves like lightning, causing her to scream and fall back down. She lay curled up in the foetal position, her scream aggravating her swimming head more. Fighting the urge to let the darkness that crept into her peripheral vision, she did her best to stay awake, knowing; hoping; that the others would be here soon. She could feel warm liquid flow down her cheek from her head. Blood.
"Emily!"
She tried to turn her head, but couldn't. She could feel the loud footsteps of the man who called her name through the vibrations in the ground where her head rested. She winced, trying her hardest not to scream as the pain smashed against her skull.
"Morgan, go!" That was definitely Hotch's voice ordering her usual partner and friend to, she assumed, follow the path in the trees to try and find the unsub. She felt two hands carefully grasp her shoulders and turn her so she was lying on her back, facing up into the hazy faces of her two colleagues.
"Hotch? Reid?" she questioned, trying to focus on their concerned features in the darkness. A hand grasped hers and gently squeezed. "He went through the-"
"I know. Don't worry about that. Can you tell me what day it is?" Hotch asked, taking off his jacket and covering her body with it to stop her going into shock. Was she that badly hurt? She tried to think, but couldn't remember the day of the week. Hotch, seeing the sudden sadness and panic on her face, tried to calm her down. "It's ok. You just banged your head."
A hand prodded her aching ankle, and she had to refrain from kicking out at the person and swearing to high heaven. Reid, seeing the swelling, brought it to Hotch's attention. He frowned.
"Ring Rossi and tell him we'll need a second ambulance." Reid walked a short distance away to call the older profiler.
"Okay Emily, follow my finger." Hotch said quietly, holding a finger in front of her eyes and slowly moving it from left to right. He was relieved when she was able to do the simple task, but she wasn't out of the woods yet. Literally. Blood continued to leak from the wound on her forehead and her eyes kept going out of focus. "Good." She murmured something under her breath but he couldn't make it out. She repeated herself, her voice shaking slightly.
"You... nev... call... me... Em...ly." she whispered. Hotch stroked her arm in response, slightly hurt by her observation. Reflecting, he rarely did call her Emily when they worked together. But not because he wasn't close to the female profiler, but because it was in his professional nature to call his team by their surnames. The only times he could recall that he called his agents by their first names was when he was speaking to them personally, like when Emily first told him that Matthew Benton was dead. Part of him hoped that she didn't believe it was personal against her. Ever since she'd joined their team three years ago Emily had proved herself to be an excellent profiler, a reliable agent, a valued team-member and a breath of fresh air. When he was sitting at the round table before a briefing looking all serious, she would enter the room with a smile on her face, usually joking around with Reid or Morgan. He couldn't have asked for a better person to replace Elle, and looking back, he would rather be in Prentiss' company than his ex-agents. The only exception to the surname 'rule' was Dave, but that was because he was older than himself. "Well, tonight is an exception. Keep talking to me Emily, I need you to stay awake until the paramedics arrive."
"Wan... sleep."
"You can sleep later. Right now, I need you to tell me what you remember about tonight."
Reid knelt down on her other side, returning from his phone call with Rossi, telling Hotch that the ambulance would be here in five to ten minutes.
"Had... gun... shot... me..."
Reid and Hotch both averted their eyes to her body, searching for any sign of a blood or a bullet wound.
"Fell... fucking... root."
"So the unsub shot at you but you fell over a root?" Reid clarified. Emily went to nod and immediately regretted it, her nausea returning. She coughed, the reflex making her body feel heavier than it already did. Reid quickly rolled her over, careful not to move her ankle too much so she could vomit on the ground beside her. He sighed, knowing that she needed medical attention immediately. It didn't take a genius to see she had a serious concussion.
"I'm... sorry." Emily murmured, her eyes drifting shut. The last thing she heard was them call her name and the faint sound of sirens in the background as she let the darkness finally claim her.
When she woke up, her eyes were assaulted by bright, white lights. Groaning, she realised she was in a hospital bed, and an uncomfortable one at that. She turned her head slowly and saw Morgan sitting in the chair near her bed with a case-file in his hand. Outside, she could hear shouting. Morgan had noticed it too, lowering the case-file in his hand to focus on the raised voices. Hotch was seriously laying into Brooks by the sound of it. Derek couldn't blame him. Turning away from the door, he saw Emily looking at him. Standing up, he walked the few feet from his chair to her bedside.
"Hey Princess, how are you feeling?"
"Honestly? Hungry and stupid." she smiled in reply. "Who is Hotch yelling at?"
"Brooks, the cop you were partnered with. He's castrating him for leaving you in the field to handle the unsub on your own." When Morgan said that, her mind raced back to the previous night/early morning. She'd been chasing the unsub when she fell and let him get away.
"Did you catch him?" she asked, begging to whatever God she believed in that he had. It was bad enough that she'd let him injure another woman and got herself hurt in the process. If he escaped then it would add serious insult to injury.
"Yeah, I caught up with him and tackled him. It was quite spectacular actually!" he smirked, earning a laugh from Prentiss.
"I wish I'd been there to see it." she smiled, an image of Derek rugby tackling the bastard to the ground giving her pleasure. "When can I get out of here?"
"The doctor wants to examine you first, but hopefully by lunchtime."
She sighed, resting her head further into the thin, itchy hospital pillows that supported her.
She'd arrived at the hospital unconscious at 12am, woken up at 3am, and was discharged at 11am after endless visits from doctors telling her she should really stay 24 hours for observation as she'd been unconscious for so long with a concussion. Emily declined, putting up a hell of a fight. She honestly felt much better, thanks to the painkillers she'd been prescribed, and didn't want to delay the rest of her friends from getting home to their families.
Morgan, Reid, JJ and Rossi had all come to collect her from the hospital. The doctors briefed them on the aftercare procedures for a patient with a head injury. One of them was to stay with her tonight to make sure she only slept in short bursts in case she slip into a coma (over her dead body!) and she was to get plenty of rest. After the briefing, the doctors finally signed her discharge papers that allowed her to go back to Quantico.
They all walked together to the SUVs so they could transport themselves to the airport, Reid supporting a limping Emily because it was still painful to put her weight on her sprained ankle. She was been driven by Rossi, which she appreciated. She knew that while he cared for her deeply, especially since she told him her secret from her teenage years, he wouldn't press her on how she was feeling. That didn't stop him from throwing concerned glances in her direction as he navigated his way to the airport. At this present moment in time, she felt shit. Her head still aching from its collision with the tree stump, despite her telling everyone she felt better. She didn't. But her concern was more about her performance in the field; she'd pursued an armed, dangerous unsub who was targeting women on her own and ended up more injured than the woman who she'd saved from being abducted. She'd broken protocol, and knew that Hotch would probably end up yelling at her later on.
They soon arrived at the airport, the jet ready and waiting to take them all back home to Quantico. Rossi took her bags onto the jet for which she was grateful. Knowing she couldn't walk on her own, she once again relied on Reid to help her up the steps and into the aircraft. Once inside, the genius helped her get comfortable on the sofa seat, getting her pillows to support her aching head and ankle and a bottle of water in case she felt nauseous. Emily finally shushed him away, not liking to be fussed over. She'd endured worse in her life, her beating from Cyrus being the most dominant in her memory. She watched as the rest of the team entered the jet and took their usual seats; Morgan getting out his oversized headphones; Reid holding a hefty book; Rossi returning from the kitchenette area with a strong coffee; JJ pulling manila folders out of her bag so she could finish her paperwork on the flight so she could spend quality time with Henry when the landed; and finally Hotch bought up the rear, sitting down with some paperwork in his hand. Prentiss recognised it as an injury report form that got submitted to the directors whenever an agent was injured in the field. But instead of filling it out, Hotch simply looked out of the small window. The plane took off, the change in pressure making her head ache in protest causing her to wince. Luckily, no one appeared to notice. The last week of clocking long hours in a stuffy police station, plus the drama from twelve hours prior, caught up on her and before Prentiss knew it, she fell asleep.
Hotch looked over at Prentiss, who he'd been avoiding since she'd been taken to hospital in the ambulance. Like the rest of the team, she was fast asleep, covered in a blanket that Morgan had draped over her when she'd first dropped off about half an hour ago. As he looked at her pale complexion, her raven hair and the bandage wrapped around her head he couldn't help but feel let down by his agent. She knew better than to follow an unsub on her own, especially one who was armed! That's why he'd made them all partner up when patrolling the parks in Cambridge, to avoid situations like this. He'd placed Prentiss with Brooks because he knew she was strong enough to handle an unsub in the field if the situation arose, and because they had a lack of manpower to cover all four parks that night. It wasn't her fault that Brooks had turned out to be an ass, but as her boss and her friend he could not excuse her actions. She could have been killed, and he thanked God that the unsub hadn't shot her. She could have come out of this a lot worse for wear.
He glanced at his watch, keeping an eye on the time. He knew he'd have to wake her up soon like the doctors had advised. He hadn't gone to the hospital with the rest of the team because he was busy at the station discussing the incident about his agent getting injured when she should have had Brooks' backing her up. The Cambridge Chief of Police and himself had had a lengthy debate about who was in the wrong, and they came to the conclusion that both Prentiss and Brooks were partially to blame for the turn of events. Hotch was happy that his agent came out looking better, as when they'd arrived to Crescent Park they'd found Brooks sitting on a bench smoking a cigarette, saying that Agent Prentiss had just disappeared. At least she had found and chased the unsub, which was more than could be said for Brooks! Before getting on the plane he'd had a word with Dave, who told him that Prentiss would need to stay with someone tonight. The moment he'd heard that news, he knew she would protest being fussed over and would insist she was fine. Well, she wasn't. It was hard for a profiler to miss the moans she released every few minutes and the reflexive hand resting on her head as she slept. Walking over to the sofa and sitting on the chair nearest to her, he gently shook her shoulder and whispered her name.
"Hotch?"
"You need to wake up. Doctor's orders. Plus we need to talk about your actions in the field last night." He said in a tone that sounded a lot sterner than he meant it to sound. He watched as she sat up, breathing deeply to fight the dizziness in her head. She assured him she was okay.
"What you did last night was inexcusable! You put yourself at risk by going after the unsub on your own and injured yourself as a result. What were you thinking Prentiss?"
Emily sat there silently. She'd been expecting this lecture from her boss, but she didn't realise he would be so cold with her.
"I was thinking that I couldn't let this son of a bitch hurt anymore women, Sir. I made a decision that seemed the most appropriate at the time and I wouldn't hesitate to make it again. Well, I'd avoid the tree branch, but other than that I wouldn't change a thing." She held her own, answering his question honestly.
Hotch sighed, looking down at his well polished shoes before directing his attention back to her. "I know you wouldn't, and that's what worries me. Your concussion and ankle sprain were accidental injuries and it pains me to think about what would have happened if you'd carried on your chase."
"You would have done the same thing as I did so cut the bull Hotch!" She whispered, not wanting to wake the others. "So would the rest of this team! In fact, we all have before. You're just pissed because you had to confront the Cambridge police about it and tarnish your reputation."
"No, I'm pissed because I could have lost an outstanding agent and friend last night!"
Emily went silent, suddenly feeling extremely guilty about what she'd said. "How can you call me an outstanding agent when I was stupid enough to screw up and nearly let the scumbag escape?" she murmured, suddenly finding the floor very interesting to look at. She felt a hand on her shoulder, providing comfort to her as she doubted herself.
"The only stupid thing you did was not wait for back-up. Everything else was an accident, and I certainly don't think any less of you for it." He said, removing his hand from her shoulder, causing her to look up again. "You're suspended for a week until Strauss has completed her investigation, and you can't return to the field until your sprain heals." She nodded in understanding, not expecting anything less from Strauss.
"Now, Dave told me that you have to stay with someone tonight so your concussion can be supervised. I'll be dropping you home and staying with you." She was about to argue but he didn't give her the chance to interrupt him. "You're not fine, so don't try and fool me. I've already arranged for Jack to stay the night at Jessica's so I can keep an eye on you."
"Hotch, seriously, I don't need-"
"For once in your life stop being stubborn Prentiss. I'm staying at yours tonight at that's final." He said in a tone that left no room for negotiation. Emily knew at that point that it was better not to waste precious breath trying to win a lost battle. Sighing, she nodded her approval.
"Good. Now, try and get some rest. I'll wake you again in forty-five minutes if you fall asleep." He said, standing up from his seat next to her to return to his original one by the window. Just as he was walking down the aisle, he turned around.
"Emily," he added softly, her eyes widening at the rare use of her first name. "We caught the unsub and you saved a woman's life. Don't be so hard on yourself."
Emily smiled at his praise. "Thank you, Hotch." she replied, watching as he sat down in the seat he'd first sat in. She watched him as he glanced at his watch and then looked out of the window. She smiled, lying back down and pulling the blanket over her body, relaxing enough that she could put the last thirteen hours behind her and fall asleep, knowing that her friends would always be there to wake her back up again.
Well, that's it. Thank you for reading and please leave a review :) Much love, H xxx
