CHAPTER 2

SEE CHAPTER 1 for warnings, disclaimer and beginning of this story.

Welcome back. I'm glad you've decided to stick with me. Anyway, enjoy.

She awoke to Derek gently shaking her shoulder.

"Prentiss, we gotta go." He said impatiently, grabbing her arms and yanked her up to her feet. She leaned forward, supporting herself by placing one hand on her knee and squeezed her eyes shut. Once she fought off the spell of nausea and dizziness, she looked back up at Derek.

"Look," He said, pointing back to the SUV that was now in flames despite the rainfall. "Let's go."

"Oh shit." Was all she mumbled before Derek literally pulled her into the woods and away from the burning SUV.

"Are you sure we should wander away from the crash? They'll look for us there." She quipped once they slowed down and Derek was satisfied with their distance from the flaming car.

"Yeah. We don't wanna be anywhere near that thing when it blows."

His answer was enough for her and they continued on in silence, only connected by the firm hand hold they held on one another. They continued their trudge through the underbrush, getting soaked in the rain as the minutes soon turned to hours. Emily's dark hair stuck to her neck and face while she squinted against the droplets of water and looked at the sky. Although it was a dark, ominous grey, she could tell the sun was beginning to go down.

"Derek, shouldn't we try and get back to the road?" she panted, the hike proving to be harder than she'd anticipated, "it'll be easier to see us."

The darker man paused in his tracks, taking a moment to take in his surroundings. "That's probably a good idea. This way," he intertwined their fingers again and began slugging through the dirt which was now forming a sticky, thick mud. Emily slipped on a rock that was covered by the mud.

Derek quickly stopped and turned to help her up. "You okay?" He asked, a hint of panic and concern behind his words.

"I'm fine, just sore," she complained.

"Trucks must love you," he teased, "two crashes in a three years."

"Very funny." She said as she tried to brush the mud off her blouse, giving up with a sigh when the attempt seemed futile.

Then, Derek's smile fell. "Emily, you're bleeding." He grabbed her arm to inspect the dark red stain on the shoulder of her shirt.

"It's probably just a cut from the glass," she tried to assure him but he pulled the fabric down so he could get a better look. "C'mon, let's just keep moving."

He couldn't muffle the gasp that escaped his lips when his eyes landed on the gash. It was at least and inch wide and went from her collar bone down to the end of her shoulder. "That's not a cut, Em."

She let out a nervous laugh. "Well, at least it's not worse?"

He glared up at her. "Not funny."

His features softened and the pulled the shirt back over the cut. "Let's just keep moving, okay?"

"Whatever you say, Mr Woodsman."

"Have you heard from Prentiss or Morgan?" Hotch asked.

"Not yet," Rossi said while sifting through their latest victim's file, "I'm sure they'll call when they're on their way back." When he looked up and saw Aaron's brows furrowed and his narrowed eyes he continued. "The house was almost three hours away, right?"

Hotch nodded.

"Then don't worry just yet. They've only been gone for four."

Hotch crossed his arms in front of his chest. Something in the pit of his stomach told him something was off. He ignored Dave's optimistic opinion and dialed Garcia.

"Howdy Bossman, what can I do for you on this fine evening."

"Can you track Prentiss' cell?"

"I sure can!" She said, quickly typing away until she realized what he had asked. "Wait. Why do you want me to track her phone? Has something happened? Sir, should I fly out!?"

Dave merely smiled at the technical analysts rapid fire questions and her concern for their wellbeing. They all knew how big of a tole it took on her when they went into the field knowing something awful could happen at any moment.

"Garcia, it's probably nothing. I'm just being cautious." He responded.

From the other end he could hear her calming down. "All due respect, sir, don't scare me like that! You know my heart can hardly handle you guys going out all the time but—"

"Penelope, the traces." Dave said with a smirk, attempting to get the analyst's focus back.

"Oh, right," she began typing again, eyes scanning over the images, "let's see…their last location was eighty-three miles off of I-264, exit twelve."

"Last known?" Hotch questioned, the pit in his stomach growing bigger.

"There is a pretty long stretch of road that has no service," she informed them, "why do these people like to live in such isolation that even cell towers can't reach them?"

"Who knows. It can be peaceful out there." Dave said.

Penelope scoffed. "Because you, Mr Mansion knows what that is like."

"I'll have you know, I did in fact go camping as a child." He retorted.

"Well, what a surprise!" She chirped. "Anything else I can do for you two fine fellas?"

Dave watched as a small, rare smile appeared on the normally stoic unit chief. "That's it, Garcia. Thanks."

The phone clicked off and Hotch put his cell back into his pocket. Dave easily read the man's face, a benefit of having worked with him for years. "You're still worried?"

"I'll be happy once everyone is back under this roof."

Once the rain finally came to a stop, the sun was beginning it's decent from the sky.

"Derek, we should make a fire."

"How are we going to do that if everything is wet?"

Shit. She hadn't even put those two pieces together. There was no way anything would light in this weather.

"Let's just keep moving," he said, "I think we're close to the road."

"You said that hours ago." She mumbled but kept walking beside him. Out of the corner of her eye, a crimson red caught her eye. She turned her head to take a closer look and gasped.

"Derek, your stomach!"

He kept walking and she then noticed the slight limp in his step. "Stop for a second so I can look."

Emily began pulling up his shirt but his hands slapped hers away. "Just let it go! We need to keep moving!" He yelled, then regretted it as soon as he saw her wide, shocked eyes. "Sorry, I didn't mean to yell. I just want to get the hell outta here."

Composing herself, Emily spoke. "I do too, but maybe we should take a break."

He stopped walking, his face twisted in thought. "Fine. Just for a little."

"Good," she said, bending her arm to cover a rattling cough that radiated out of her chest, "we both could use it."

The pair picked out a small opening and eased down to a seated position against a large tree trunk. Both exhaling sharply has they settled on the ground, Emily lifted up Derek's shirt. She shot him a knowing glance when he opened his mouth to protest and he immediately shut it.

"Jesus, Derek."

Emily's eyes inspected the deep wound. He had a gaping hole which thick, red blood was oozing out of. She assumed he'd been punctured with something, maybe glass or his glock, during the crash.

"That bad?"

"We're going to be fine." She said and leaned back against the tree. Whether it comforted him or not, she had no idea.

The clock on the wall read just past seven-thirty and Hotch couldn't help but feel the anxiety rise over his two agents. JJ and Reid had returned from the diner where one of their victims worked nearly two hours ago and they were still waiting to hear back from Morgan and Prentiss. They all tried to ease Aaron's worries, saying they probably got stuck in traffic, or maybe the witness interview too longer than expected. But now, he could see the masks of worry etched on each of their faces every time they glanced down at their watches with a scowl.

Hotch's cell rang and everyone's head shot up and looked at him.

"Garcia?"

"Hotch, I couldn't help it, I checked their location again and it hasn't moved," she said in a remarkably rapid speed, "I thought maybe they got stuck in traffic, but what road that far away from civilization has traffic? I think something is wrong, sir. I—"

"Penelope, slow down," Hotch coaxed, "send me the location."

"Already done," he could hear her tapping her pen against the table, a nervous tick the team had picked up on shortly after she joined the team, "just bring them home."

"Der…" Emily said breathlessly, her eyes closed as she slumped against the tree, "Derek."

"Yeah?"

"I'm…I'm sorry I never told you about Doyle." She said, her voice cracking.

"You don't…need…to apologize, Em."

A tear slipped out of the corner of her eye. They'd decided to take a break hours ago. How many, neither of them could remember, but they'd been sitting on the damp ground for way too long. For some reason unknown to her, Emily felt the sudden need to tell him what had happened with Doyle. Specifically, the brand.

"He…he branded…me," she said, wincing as pain shot from her shoulder down her arm, which was accompanied by a rather intense coughing fit, "my chest."

Derek was able to sit up and face her, allowing her to see his moist eyes. "Em…I'm…" He let the words die their own death. She knew he didn't know what to say at the sudden revelation, but she could feel his sorrow.

"It's okay…I walked into…it."

"C'mere…" He said, managing to raise him arm and drape it around her shoulders, weakly pulling her closer to him.

The two sat like that until the darkness once again penetrated their senses and pulled them into unconsciousness.

Here you have it. I have one more chapter left...I'm planning on leaving it as three chapters, but if I get enough of a push I may write more. Who knows. It's up to you guys. Anyway, hope you like it. Pease do leave a review. :)