Author's note: Hi guys! This wasn't what I was planning on doing next but I've been doing requests on tumblr and this appeared… And I liked it and people wanted to see more. And anyway I've missed you non-tumblrites. The first two chapters are super short because they were written as drabbles, but they'll be full length fic size from here on. I hope you like :)
He has Ambassador Prentiss in his office for an even worse reason than before. Their unsub has Emily, took her when she was supposed to be meeting her mother for dinner – there are a million things going through his mind, things they should have done, things he knows are happening to her now, things that could go wrong with what they're about to do, but all he says is, "We're going there now. We know who he is, we know where he's got her." He's strapping on his Kevlar as he speaks, nudging her gently backwards into a chair.
"You said – I – how do you know she's in there? Are you sure -"
"I'll find her and bring her home," he says. "I promise. You need to stay here." He catches Garcia's eye and nods toward the ambassador, and she nods, wipes the tears from her face and comes to sit with her. He takes a second to be grateful for her, and then they're gone.
It takes a long time, too long, to clear the compound – he knows every minute they're in there is another minute the unsub has alone with her, another minute he has to realise they're onto him and take it out on her. He tries to block it out but has to settle for pushing it back, as far back in his brain as it'll go, as they clear room after room, the adrenaline so constant he's starting to feel nauseous.
And then he hears her scream.
He runs toward it, barely aware he's stopped signalling to SWAT and Morgan has taken over. He gets to where the sound is coming from, tries the handle on the door – a hand on his shoulder pulls him back, SWAT get the door down, and Morgan goes for the unsub and he goes for Emily.
She's on the floor, her clothes torn and cuts on her face, chest and arms – she fought him, and their blood is on the concrete around her. He drops to his knees at her side, fumbling to put away his gun. "Emily, look at me, sweetheart. Look at me." He lifts her chin so her eyes meet his – she collapses into him, her arms around his neck and her body trembling.
"I knew you'd find me," she mutters, hazy, and she'll never tell him that it isn't true, that she thought there was a chance they wouldn't. She watches, squinting through the fog in her vision, as Morgan shoves her handcuffed kidnapper toward one of the SWAT agents, and he's gone, finally gone, and she buries her face in Hotch's chest and tries to stop her body from shaking. "He gave me something," she says, her eyelids getting heavy. "In a syringe. Not long -"
She feels him stand, feels him pick her up, and she holds onto him and drops her head to his shoulder, and until she hears the ambulance doors close, the only thing she's really aware of is the smell of him, the feel of his hands gripping her just a little tighter than necessary.
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