AN./ Man, my procrastination levels are through the roof. I am addicted to writing this! Reviews make my world go round, by the way, and could encourage speedier delivery of chapters! –Bec xx

Chapter 11

In retrospect, although the fact that Emily had been shot was definitely the most pertinent information about her condition, I felt like Hotch could have warned me that she had also sustained a broken arm, a cut lip, and as many bruises as I—apparently—had. I still hadn't seen myself in the mirror but I was going to avoid it now if possible, given the way that Emily winced when she saw me.

"JJ, your head," was the first thing that came out of her mouth.

So it looked as bad as it felt, then.

"It's fine," I lied. "Barely hurts."

I glanced up at Hotch, who had wheeled me in, and he seemed to understand, pushing me right up beside Emily. Her shoulder was bandaged where the bullet had entered and exited, thankfully fairly cleanly, and her arm on the opposite side was already in a cast. It made me wonder again just how long I'd been out.

"Can you give us five minutes?" I asked and Hotch nodded.

"That's all I can give you, though," he apologised, and he left the room.

"There's no way that doesn't hurt," Emily rebuked me as the door closed. "I saw how hard your head slammed into the wall. It's amazing that thick skull of yours is still in one piece."

I shook my head, still careful not to move it too quickly. That wasn't important, I wasn't important. "Em—Hotch, Morgan, and Rossi all know about you," I blurted out. I didn't have to clarify what I meant. "I didn't tell them but—"

"It doesn't matter, Jayj."

"They know about us too." I felt my eyes fill with tears. I guess I assumed that, if everybody knew, she'd want to end it; that this would be the wake-up call she needed to realise I wasn't good enough for her and that dating me was only going to cause her problems.

But Emily shook her head. "It doesn't matter," she repeated. Slowly, almost painstakingly, she raised her good hand and laid it over mine, resting on the arm of my wheelchair. "Thank God you're all right," she said, more quietly. "Reid's... Reid's not here, is he? They got him?"

"They?" I repeated. I hadn't realised there'd been more than one person. I couldn't even recall the face of the one who attacked me.

"There were two of them," Emily's voice was strained. She wouldn't admit it, but she was clearly in a lot of pain. "I tried to keep them off him, but I didn't have my gun, and Reid was so useless… He just wailed like a little kid. God, it's easy to forget when he knows what he knows, but he really is just a kid, isn't he?"

"We're going to find him," I promised, squeezing her hand. "But, Em—Hotch and the others are going to need to talk through all this with you, and they don't want me in here when they do."

"It's fine," Emily told me. "I'm ready now. I can do it." She removed her hand from mine and used it as leverage to try and push herself up into a sitting position. I knew it was a bad idea before she'd got an inch off the bed and I told her so. It didn't take much more for her to give in. She sank back into her pillow with a low moan. "Don't you feel like you need to be out there looking for him, Jayj?"

"Of course I do," I replied. "But what good are we like this? The best thing we can do is stay in bed, heal up, and tell the others what we know."

"Reid didn't know I'd be there with you, Jen," Emily pointed out. "He was coming to you for a reason. Whether it was because he thought you could help him or because he ran into trouble in the area… That's what we need to find out."

I looked into her eyes sadly. "I know… And I was such a great help, wasn't I?"

"Shh…" Emily whispered, reaching out her good arm to touch my hair gently.

Exhausted and needing comfort, I leaned forward and lay my head on top of my arms, folded on Emily's bed, where she could easily reach me. I closed my eyes and indulged in a brief moment of denial. We were back at home, still on the couch. Her hand stroked and combed through my hair. Two weeks free, that's amazing, I hadn't got a chance to tell her. I'm so damn proud of you...

"I'm sorry, JJ," this was Hotch again, at the door. Our time was up. I didn't protest, just pushed myself backwards with a puff of exertion until my back fell against the back of the wheelchair. I still wasn't strong enough to wheel myself, so Hotch came over. "Wait," I stalled. "Em, the others are coming in now. Do you want your blanket pulled up over your arms?"

Emily knew her secret was out, but she nodded gratefully all the same, and Hotch did it for her without being asked. You can tell a lot about a person from the way they treat their body. For Emily, who was so private, there must have been no worse prospect than being examined at her most vulnerable by her fellow profilers. I couldn't let myself forget just how brave she was being, just because she wasn't complaining about it.

"It'll be okay," I promised. And then, for the first time, and despite Hotch's presence, I added, "I love you."

Emily's eyes were paradoxically both shielded and searching as they met mine, but she said nothing. That was okay. I knew that Emily needed time to process how she felt. I gave her a reassuring smile and gestured for Hotch to wheel me out.

We found Garcia pacing in the hall. What little colour her face possessed at that point drained away as she caught sight of me.

"JJ," she whispered, kneeling to hug me desperately. "Are you okay!?"

"I'm fine," I told her, wincing as she disturbed a cluster of bruises on my torso that I hadn't yet discovered.

Garcia stood and directed her attention to Hotch. "Is she telling the truth?" she asked seriously.

"JJ and Emily are both going to make full recoveries," he assured her. "We'll get them out of here as quickly as we can. Now I need to get Rossi and Morgan and talk to Emily," Hotch said. "Garcia, would you mind—?"

"No problemo, sir! I will take Emily back to her room and get myself set up in there," Garcia preempted him, and Hotch nodded solemnly before disappearing down the corridor. "I'm sorry I took so long," Garcia continued to me, her voice twisting with anxiety as she began to push me along. "Reid had me miles and miles away looking at a computer for him. He said I couldn't do it from the FBI… Why do I always let you guys talk me into things like that?"

"You were doing work for Reid?" I repeated, shocked. "Does Hotch know?"

"Hotch already knows all the details, my flower, and I relayed them to Morgan and Rossi too, while you were in with Emily," Garcia promised. "To be honest, at first I thought it was a normal family computer he had me looking at. The system was so well designed! There was a whole other layer of data almost perfectly hidden!"

"Almost," I repeated knowingly. Between Hotch and Garcia, you couldn't get much closer to omniscience.

"Yeah, almost," said Garcia, leaning forward to open the door to my room. "But one wrong move and the whole thing would've corrupted on me. It was pretty risky. I told Reid I didn't like my chances and he said… He said he didn't like anyone's chances better than mine. And I did it. I did… Poor kid, I just want to know where he is!"

Garcia helped me stand and get back into bed slowly. I made every effort to keep my face impassive during this process. The pain I felt was a distraction but it didn't need to be distracting anyone but me.

"Once I hacked my way into the underground of the system, if you will, that wasn't the end of the booby traps," Garcia explained, taking the seat that Morgan had used earlier. "It took a long time to maneuver through them, and Reid was really strict about the amount of time I could spend in the house. Jesus, Jayj—we broke into a house for this! Can you believe it!? But no one has technology like that and isn't up to something shady. Seems like Reid was on the money with this guy, whoever he is."

"So what did you find?" I asked. "You must have got something?"

Garcia had pulled out her own laptop and set it up while she was talking. Now she scrolled through a mass of code that she had apparently been able to copy over. "To begin with, I found a whole lot of money changing hands," she said. "Whatever Reid was looking into it wasn't Pokémon cards, I'll tell you that for free!"

"How much?" I asked and Garcia shook her head.

"Hard to tell the sum of it. There was no time to get everything transferred before had to get out, so I just have bits and pieces," she said. "The way Reid was acting, I didn't want to find out what happened if we were caught. It was in the billions, though. Something crazy. Like I said, whatever this was, it was big."

"And these people have got Spence," I assumed, and we both fell silent.

"Had he really been drugged when he got to your place?" Garcia asked, her voice wobbling a little.

"Pen, he was so out of it… He couldn't even talk," I replied quietly, sensitive to her fragile stale.

Garcia let out a sob without stilling her hands on the keyboard. "My poor boy," she cried. "He worked so hard to get past that. It isn't fair!"

"We need to focus on getting him back," I told her. "If we need to, we can help him get past it again when he's home and safe."

"Y-you're right," Garcia agreed. "Reid's phone isn't transmitting, I can't track it."

"We think he was picked up by two guys in an ambulance," I said, "And that Reid might have known they were coming."

"Were the guys who attacked you in uniform?" Garcia asked. "From a specific hospital or ambulance service?"

"I can't remember," I sighed. "I only saw one of them for a second before I went out."

"Can you do that thing where you close your eyes…?"

"It's not magic, Garcia." I rubbed my temples slowly, trying to get past the pain and think. "I was unconscious within seconds of opening the door. Emily was still in the living room with Reid when it happened. She might have seen what they were wearing…"

I watched as Garcia made herself a note to ask.

"What bothers me," I went on, "Is, if this is as big as you say, why did they chance leaving witnesses at all? Anyone working for such big business has got to be well trained; yet all they did was give me a headache. Emily was shot in the shoulder, her arm was broken—enough to stop her resisting, but no one could think that'd be enough to kill either of us."

"So they weren't interested in you, they just wanted Reid," Garcia said, a little nonplussed. "It makes sense. He was the one who was onto them."

"No, it doesn't make sense," I insisted. "If they weren't interested in us, we'd be dead. No criminal gets that rich by showing mercy, leaving witnesses. There's got to be something they want from us."

Garcia looked up, distressed. "I was the one who went out with Reid to check out that computer!" she exclaimed. "Why not come after me?"

It struck me suddenly how vulnerable we were here. Garcia didn't carry a gun and since I hadn't been carrying mine when I'd been attacked, it hadn't arrived at the hospital with me. "Garcia," I ordered. "Go join Hotch and the others."

She looked at me like I was crazy. "I'm not leaving you alone! We have multiple unsubs who may or may not be dressed as medical professionals and we're in a hospital, for crying out loud!"

"What are you going to do if someone comes in?" I asked desperately. "We're sitting ducks in here and neither one of us is armed."

"Then you need to get back in this wheelchair," Garcia's response left no room for argument. "Come on, we'll do it now."

I shifted myself up and allowed Garcia to help me into the chair as quickly as possible. "Emily's room," I directed her. "Don't stop to answer any questions. If someone tries to stop us, you walk faster and don't look back. Got it?"

Garcia nodded quickly. "I've got it," she confirmed, tucking her laptop into the bag over her shoulder.

A man in a suit was waiting for us just outside the door.

"Agent Jareau, my name is Agent James Curtell I've been assigned to protect you," he introduced himself.

Garcia stopped and looked down at me. I didn't know what to tell her; the man's face was unreadable. He may have been one of ours, but he might not have. Either way, he was definitely armed.

"Your badge," I said. "Show it to me slowly."

Curtell did as he was told, a small smile playing on his lips as he pulled a badge out of his breast pocket. Agent James Daniel Curtell, it read, and it seemed legitimate. But then, even legitimate IDs could be procured by illegitimate means.

"We're going to see Agent Prentiss," I said firmly.

Curtell nodded, still smiling. "Of course. Emily Prentiss has been moved. I'll take you to her."

I shook my head. "Then I want to call my boss first."

The smile widened. Curtell was enjoying himself, I realised, testing me. It wasn't a good sign.

"Garcia," I directed levelly. "Wheel me back into the room. Don't turn around."

I couldn't block the door before Curtell stepped in. "Of course," he said casually, closing us into the room. "Miss Penelope Garcia. Technical Analyst for the FBI. But you're more than that aren't you? Seems like recently you fancy yourself a spy."

He'd laid his cards on the table. Nobody outside of the BAU should have known about that.

"Tell me," he said. "What makes you want to visit Agent Prentiss when I could take you to Spencer Reid instead?"

I chose my next words carefully. "How's Spencer doing?" I asked.

The amusement on Curtell's face suggested that he knew the playbook I was using as well as I did. "He looks a fair sight worse than you do, Agent Jareau," he replied, his voice still one of perfect politeness and cordiality.

I managed to keep the emotion from showing on my face—I must have been learning from spending so much time with Emily. "And you'd like to take us both to him?" I clarified.

Curtell shook his head, drawing his gun slowly. "Not both. Only you, Agent Jareau."

One of Garcia's hands came to grip my shoulder protectively, almost painfully. "If you think there's any way in hell I'm going to let you take JJ—!" she began, but I shook my head at her.

"Tell me," I addressed Curtell. "There were two men at my place last night. They could have easily taken me as well. Did they mess up?"

"The orders at that time were to secure Doctor Reid," Curtell replied coolly. "Everything went according to plan."

Orders. So this wasn't Curtell's game. He and the other two were pawns.

"But the orders have changed," I deduced. "Now you want me. Why?"

Curtell tutted, a look of soft, almost paternal, disappoint on his face. "You're stalling, Agent Jareau. Is that your plan? To wait for rescue?"

"Why don't you explain to me what this is about?" I suggested. "Maybe I'll come willingly."

I think Curtell almost laughed. He seemed to take a great deal of pleasure in affixing a silencer to his weapon. "Agent Jareau, you can barely walk. I wouldn't say you were in a position to argue. If I decide to shoot Penelope Garcia, I can easily sedate you and walk out with no questions asked. All it would take is a flash of my badge."

"But you haven't decided to shoot Penelope," I inferred. "Is that on the condition that I come quietly?"

"It is," Curtell confirmed.

It would be the second time in two days that these men had executed a kidnapping while leaving witnesses. I felt sure that both Garcia and I could facilitate a composite sketch of this man, so why wasn't he concerned? Was it arrogance? Did they think they were uncatchable? Were we being toyed with?

Curtell retrieved two syringes from the pocket of his suit jacket. "I'm going to give you each a sedative. If neither of you scream, I will leave Penelope Garcia here unharmed. If, however, you make a fuss, I am going to shoot her. Do you understand?"

Again I glanced at Garcia, who was crying silently, and whose hand still squeezed my shoulder. She couldn't meet my eye.

"It's okay, Pen," I promised, placing my hand over hers. "I need to see that Reid's okay. Please don't make a fuss, just stay here." To Curtell I said, "How do I know it's really a sedative you'll give her?"

Curtell's mouth twisted. "Scouts honour," he replied, and I realised it was the best chance she had. It was a better chance than a bullet.

"I understand," I agreed. "But you'll inject me first."

I held out my arm.