A/N: Thanks, as always, for reading and reviewing the last chapter! I hadn't expected to have time to write this week, but the upside of being too tired and sick to go out tonight was that I managed to finish this chapter! I hope you enjoy it :)

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The tiny girl gazed up at the newest visitor to her plastic box. She'd spent less than twenty-four hours in the world and had already seen so many faces. None of them had been her mother or father, but it didn't seem that she minded. Considering that her small frame was connected to so many wires and tubes, she was surprisingly content as she slept or gurgled in the artificial warmth of her temporary home.

A small smile played across the visitor's lips as she watched the baby wriggle around. But her attention quickly returned to surveying the room. This person was different from the doctors and nurses; this person had a job to do that involved more than just the child.

"Can I help you?" a nurse asked, as another stranger appeared at the locked door of the ward.

The visitor straightened up – this was what she had been expecting. And as the atmosphere of the room palpably changed, a whimper escaped from the previously happy child. At just thirteen hours old, she was about to learn her first life lesson: nothing is ever as it seems.

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"No one is answering!" Emily exclaimed, resisting the urge to throw her cellphone against the dashboard.

"We already spoke to Hotch – he was going to get someone on it," Morgan replied, trying to calm her down.

After their realisation that the baby was in danger, they had contacted both the police and their unit chief. Now, as they raced towards the hospital with the SUV's sirens blaring, they could only hope that it would be some sort of law enforcement agent who reached the child first.

"You need to drive faster," Emily instructed, repeatedly readjusting her position in the passenger seat as she grew more agitated. She didn't like feeling like there was nothing she could do to help.

Derek glanced at the speedometer and then returned his eyes to the wet road which lay before them. There was no way he could go faster. He could understand Emily's frustration but it wouldn't help anyone if they got into an accident.

"We'll be there soon," he assured her, knowing he could say nothing that would calm her down in any meaningful way.

"What if we're not there soon enough? She's a baby; she's defenceless. If this is Doyle…"

"He's dead, Emily!" Derek interrupted, more aggressively than he had intended. "I'm sorry," he softened as she fell silent and turned away from him. "I just mean that it's not Doyle. Whoever we're dealing with, it's not him. You need to remember that."

Emily heard his words and she understood. She wasn't even annoyed that he'd snapped. But she was done talking. She had nothing useful to say, as the distance between them and the child that had taken its first breath in her arms lessened at a pace which would never be fast enough to slow her racing pulse.

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The nurse appeared tense as she awaited an answer to her question. In amongst the lifesaving equipment of the NICU, two hands came to rest on heavy metal objects which were concealed by clothing.

"I'm here to see my niece," the man just outside of the door answered. "My sister died last night," he continued. "The family's in bits – we didn't even get to say goodbye. But the child shouldn't be on her own." His accent wasn't particularly strong but the way he spoke made it clear he wasn't local.

With a sympathetic smile, the nurse opened the door, though her unease became evident as she turned her back on the man. The child in question already had one visitor and the situation was beginning to make her feel sick. She looked to the doctor at the edge of the room for encouragement. He glanced up from the clipboard in his hands and gave her a barely discernible nod.

"She's over here," the nurse said, directing the man towards the incubator which contained the baby in question. "I'm so sorry about your sister." Her voice waivered slightly and she didn't risk saying anything more.

The man moved towards the incubator, noticing the blonde haired woman who stood beside it dressed in a pink protective gown.

"She's tiny," he said, stepping closer.

"Yes, she is," the woman agreed.

"Can I hold her?" he asked, placing one hand against the clear plastic box, in an apparent demonstration of his need to be close to the child.

"I'm sorry – she has to stay in the incubator for the time being," came the blonde woman's reply.

"Just for a moment?" He seemed prepared to take the baby regardless of her answer, and he reached out towards the hatch at the side of the incubator.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that," the woman replied, reaching out her own hand to stop him.

"Well, I'm afraid you don't have a choice," he said, the Irish lilt to his voice becoming more prominent as his temper grew. In a well-practised movement he reached for his gun. But he wasn't the only one in the room that was doing so.

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Emily tore into the hospital, flashing her badge at security and the staff at reception as she exclaimed that she had to find the NICU. Fully aware of her authority and urgency, they directed her to the correct floor. Derek was just behind her as she determined that waiting on the elevator would cost them too much time, and rushed towards the stairwell.

"Em, we don't know what we're heading into," he reminded her. They couldn't just barge into the NICU. If Hotch had managed to get a team to the hospital before they had arrived then a more sensitive approach to the situation could be under way.

"I know," she replied. "Just let me see what's going on." She'd only stop running when she could be sure the baby was in the arms of someone she could trust. She was covered in the stains of someone else's blood for the second time in the space of a day, and she wasn't about to metaphorically add the blood of an infant to that collection.

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"Put your weapon down," the blonde haired woman commanded, as she pointed her own gun towards the Irish man who stood in front of her.

The real NICU staff, and the handful of visiting parents huddled in the corners of the room or beside their children. The "doctor" joined his colleague and trained his weapon on their suspect as he edged ever closer.

"How much damage do you think I could do before you took me out?" the man grinned, taunting the woman who had now revealed herself to be a federal agent.

"Don't try me – I'm a very good shot," she warned, hoping he would surrender. While she was confident in her ability to hit a target, she'd rather not risk it in a room full of sick newborns and the vital machines which were keeping them alive.

"Relax, love," he laughed. "We wouldn't want you accidentally pulling that trigger with all these little babies around."

She held her gaze, refusing to show that he identified her fear. Suddenly, he made a move, grabbing hold of the agent who had been creeping towards him.

"Reid!" she shouted, too late to allow him to avoid the man's grasp.

"Still think you're a good shot?" he teased, easily overpowering his struggling hostage and pressing the barrel of his gun hard against his temple.

"JJ, he's bluffing," Reid insisted, despite the very real sensation of the metal touching his head. "He won't shoot." He knew that if the man pulled the trigger, it would only be a split second before JJ did the same. It didn't seem to him that their suspect was planning on dying or being arrested – escape was his only option.

"How sure are you about that?" the man snarled, stepping backwards and dragging Reid with him towards the door.

JJ refused to drop her weapon, but she made no move towards them. She had to trust that Spencer was right because she really didn't want to fire a shot in this room, or in the direction of her friend.

Without taking his eyes off of JJ or moving the gun from Reid's head, the man slowly backed towards the door and pressed the button to release the lock. Throwing his hostage roughly to the ground, he darted into the corridor and began to run.

It only took JJ a second to fall into pursuit, but she was delayed by the door and he had a substantial headstart by the time she was in the corridor. With all the people milling around, she knew it was too risky to take a shot – even more so than in the NICU, so all she could do was keep chase and hope that at some point he would trip up. Preferably literally.

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Emily and Derek had just exited the stairwell at the correct floor for the NICU, when they heard a commotion ahead of them. Still just ahead of Morgan, Emily was the first to see the man heading straight towards them. Even before JJ came into sight she knew he was involved.

"Stop! FBI!" she shouted, drawing her weapon and standing directly in his path. He was showing no signs of stopping but she stood her ground.

Morgan watched in horror as his girlfriend engaged herself in some sort of variation on a game of chicken with their suspect. He flinched as Emily stepped to the side, blocking the man's attempts to swerve around her, and his full weight collided with her, knocking them both to the floor.

"Emily!" he shouted, as the suspect stumbled to his feet and tried, once again, to escape.

"Just stop him!" she replied, feeling slightly dazed as she pulled herself upright, but still full of determination to apprehend the man who might hold the key to the dead girl and the baby. And Valhalla.

It didn't take Morgan long to tackle the man to the ground, but a struggle ensued. Both men were armed and their guns dangerously flailed around as they battled for control of the situation. They were equally matched in strength and it seemed like no one would get the upper hand. Emily watched, from where she was yet to have coordinated getting back on her feet, again feeling helpless to stop events unfolding.

And then a single gunshot echoed throughout the corridor and the chaos fell to silence.