Sorry this took so long. School may have eaten my brain for a while, but I am back! :D Yes, I did watch "Lauren". No, this story does not have spoilers to it.

All hospitals are the same. Everywhere you turn you are always surrounded by the rhythmic beeping of machines. They have varying degrees of the same sterile scent. Every room has one accent wall of a calming blue or green to instill a 'healing feeling.' Scientifically, I am unsure of the exact effects of a paint color on gunshot wounds, but I am certain they are very slim if any at all. The walls could be plaid and she wouldn't even know. What use does a wall color have on someone who hasn't opened her eyes in three weeks?

Twenty-one days, nine hours and forty-seven minutes.

Once Seaver and I got back to the BAU she all but forbade me to work. She immediately turned me around and told me to go to the hospital, she'd handle the paperwork. I got to the waiting room to see Morgan pacing like a caged animal. He had a look in his eyes that I couldn't quite place. All I knew is that I probably shouldn't be standing near him when a doctor comes in, just in case. Slowly the rest of the team, including JJ, showed up. Sixteen hours of touch and go surgery later, Emily was moved to her own room but hadn't woken up. She still hasn't.

We all got a few days grace from Strauss after that. By grace, I mean we all had to see the shrink before we were put back into rotation not four days later. We were in Albany for 3 days, came home, went to Tallahassee for a week, came home again, and we just returned from a 48-hour manhunt in the Colorado mountains. I've come to visit her everyday that I've been home. For the times that I've been here I have yet to make it past the door. Somehow leaning against the door frame and not completely entering the room is allowing me to take fewer notes of the statistics.

Could there be brain damage? Someone who has been out for this long without waking up, after losing that much blood…

I inhale; the distinctive hospital scent fills my nose as I finally step forward into the room. Her eyes are closed, as if in a peaceful sleep, but the medical chart would tell you differently. The usual ivory of her skin has been replaced with a sickly pale tone that can only be described as wrong. The last time I saw her was when she was being lifted onto the gurney covered in too much blood, eyes full of pain. I don't know which sight is worse. I turn away from her, she's not right. I can't handle this image.

A book catches my eye; it's resting on the table right next to her. Mother Night by Kurt Vonnegut. I remember Derek and Emily discussing that book once before, years ago. Flipping through the book, I notice a bookmark. He must be reading it to her. That's nice; reading to coma patients has been known to have positive results.

The other trinkets placed around the room signify the presence of the others. The flowers, bright orange lilies, and the festive throw blanket are obviously the mark of Penelope Garcia. I assume the fact that Emily has freshly painted fingernails also has something to do with her, also possibly JJ. Rossi has brought crosswords from the newspaper, three weeks worth. Candies, flowers, cards, balloons, and some more flowers invade my senses. The amount of love for this one woman is overwhelming and wholly appropriate. I make the stack of crosswords neat as a thought drifts into my mind; none of the objects seem like something maternal. Her mother must have been here, what did she bring?

I turn in a full circle, momentarily thankful that the only other occupant of the room is in a coma, before I realize that there is a truly beautiful view. Ambassador Prentiss must have had something to do with this. Instead of looking at a concrete slab filled with cars, I can see a lush forest. Emily would certainly appreciate this. If she could see it…

My mind is a burden sometimes, even I am aware that knowing all these statistics can be annoying. Staying here longer would be a mistake. I should leave; hospitals are not my favorite place to be. I have seen far too many people in them and almost as many never leave. I need to be ready; when I turn I will get another glimpse of the wrongness in this room. Focus on the door, ignore the shell. I turn.

Emily is staring at me from the bed. I try and fail to keep the embarrassing yelp from escaping my mouth. She's smirking around the tube in her mouth. The mirth in her eyes is unmistakable.

"You scared me! Why didn't you tell me you were awake?"

She raises an eyebrow. She doesn't need to be able to talk; I realized my mistake as soon as I spoke.

I feel my cheeks burning, "I'll go get a nurse."

She makes a noise that I am almost certain is a chuckle. I dearly hope she doesn't tell Morgan that I just made that noise.

As the nurse goes to take care of Emily, I take full advantage of the phone at the Nurse's Station. I don't need to think before I dial the familiar number of Penelope Garcia.

"Office of the incredibly gorgeous, incredibly genius, and genius-ly gorgeous Penelope Garcia, speak mortal, if you must!"

"Geniusly isn't a word Garcia…"

"Oh, little boy, what have I told you about ruining my flare? It shouldn't be done! Now, what can I do for you, boy wonder?"

"Emily's awa-"

I don't get to finish the statement before an almost unearthly sound comes out of the phone. It might be a squeal of joy, or it may be an otherworldly creature (which I am completely willing to believe exists if it explains that noise).

"I just thought you could call everyone?"

"Already on it! Kitten's awake! Oh, happy, happy day to us!"

The phone disconnects without a moment of hesitation. It's not alarming when she abruptly hangs up on me. I've come to expect it.

I let the nurse (and the doctor who had appeared in my absence) finish up with Emily before heading back into the room. She's sitting up a bit and amazingly looks healthier than she did not an hour before. She has color back in her skin. She's not 100% but there is a certainly some improvement. Maybe hospital beds just are designed to make the people sleeping in them look small and weak. Sleep, that's not what she was doing… I think I might be staring or making a face because she's looking at me weird. Oh god, does she remember who I am?

"Reid. Are you okay?"

"Yeah-uh, sorry. I was just..I noticed..I'm just.."

She's smiling, oh what a beautiful sight.

"It's good to see you too."

Should I hug her? I have the overwhelming urge to hug her. Would it hurt? I mean she's been healing for three weeks but I could still accidentally harm her maybe?

"Reid. Stop thinking so much, you'll pull a muscle."

Easier said than done.

"Sorry, It's just really good to see you awake. We..I missed you. A lot."

I move to sit in the chair next to her bed. I grasp her hand and she squeezes mine back. I look into her eyes and can tell that she understands my internal struggle. We sit in a comfortable silence for a while. I'm just happy to be in her company again. She clears her throat and draws my attention.

"If you want to, you can hug me. I've been through a lot, but I think I can handle a hug. In fact, I welcome it."

Before I have a chance to move a voice startles me from the doorway, "Thank god! I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't hug you right now!"

Garcia, as gently as she can manage, pulls Emily into a bear hug. She pulls away but does not leave her side. Penelope perches on the bed, pulls one of Emily's arms to her chest and holds her hand. It's going to take a force unknown to this world to remove her from this room.

"You, kitten, are never allowed to do that to me ever, ever again."

Emily smirks, "I promise, I will never, ever go after Ian Doyle ever again."

"If you weren't in a hospital bed right now I would smack you. You know what I mean! I was so scared; you can't leave me alone with these people! No one understands my crazy quite like you do."

"Baby girl, I don't think anyone fully understands your crazy."

I turn to the door to see a grinning Derek Morgan standing there. He's talking to Garcia but he only has eyes for Emily.

"Did I say that she fully understood? I just said that she understood the most."

The room fills with laughter as the rest of the team enters. Everyone takes their turn hugging Emily, starting with me and ending with Derek, all with Garcia still holding onto her arm. Emily isn't up for too much talking herself but we all sit with her telling stories from the time she's missed.

I watch the people in the room. The collective demeanor of the group is significantly different to what it has been for quite some time. Most of the usual worry is gone from Hotch's face, replaced by a large grin. Garcia has finally regained that one missing sparkle from her eye. JJ and Seaver are leaning against the wall together, smiling at the story Rossi is telling. Rossi is animated in his narrative, happy to have his missing pupil back.

"..and by some luck, somehow Reid managed to catch the unsub after falling down a hill in his chase. It was very impressive."

Turning red again, "Hey, It's not my fault that the walkway wasn't properly marked! It was dark! It's a lawsuit waiting to happen!"

Rossi grins in my direction and continues on in his telling. I look towards the bed again; Garcia and Emily are laughing and paying attention to Rossi. Derek, however, isn't looking at Rossi. Nor do I think he's listening to the stories at all. A soft smile graces his features as he watches Emily. He is holding her hand, the one not held hostage by Garcia, and occasionally placing kisses on the knuckles.

We all might be incredibly happy to have her back, but I would argue that Derek Morgan is probably the happiest.

I don't know when I'll have time for the next chpt. but I am certain that it won't be too far off. Thanks to all of you who have read/reviewed/alerted this story, it means a lot! You guys rock!