Well, the last ten chapters have all lead up to this show down between good and bad. I know how I envisioned it in my mind and I hope that it translated well to paper. Dave keeps his promise to Emily about hunting. And there is a happy ending-sort of with Dave getting the last word as usual! Don't fret about the outcome; there is one more chapter after this. And just to set the record straight, our profilers live!
Despertar
A helicopter buzzed overhead. Attuned to the different noises in the woods, Emily looked up and saw the distinctive FBI lettering on the underbelly of the cabin. They were saved. The helicopter meant that Hotch and the team were looking for them. There was her miracle.
"Dave, look, it's the FBI; Hotch is here. We're going home," Emily croaked out. Her throat was dry from dehydration and talking non-stop to keep Dave focused. She was so happy she wanted to cry, but didn't have the energy. Never mind, there would be plenty of time for tears later.
At the moment she thought of her friends and their reactions. Emily started preparing herself at the moment for Garcia's welcome back hugs. Not that she would mind at this point-except she hoped they let her take a shower first and burn her clothes before bombarding her.
"Em, I have to stop," Dave pleaded. Looking around, she found a tree stump and led him over to it. Carefully she helped him sit down. Brushing his hair back with her hand, she wiped the sweat from Dave's forehead.
"How do you feel?" concern laced her voice. Hurry Hotch, she silently pleaded.
"Not so good," Dave replied, his voice thick with exhaustion and pain. "Em, I want you to leave me here and go find help."
"No! I am not going to leave you!" Emily declared, as fear filled her. "They are going to find us. As long as we keep moving, we'll be okay." Grabbing his hand, she started to pull him up. "Come on Dave; let's get up."
Dave shook his head. His body hurt, and he was so cold; all he wanted to do was lie down and sleep. In his fever ravaged mind he pictured himself lying on cool sheets with Emily's arm around his waist. The common sense part of him reprimanded his ability to interject sex into a hallucination. Hallucination or not, what the hell, he liked it. And he liked Emily's arms around him. He liked it a lot. And someday he would tell her.
But not right now when she was badgering him about standing up and moving. At this moment Dave wasn't even sure if he liked Emily and the way she pushed and pulled on him. He couldn't move anymore. He didn't have the energy or strength to continue. "Go on without me. I'm giving you a direct order."
Emily's temper flared. "Oh no you don't! I didn't come this far to have you crap out! We started this together and we are going to find Hotch. That's my direct order to you!" A little part of Emily took some glee from finally being able to order the arrogant David Rossi around, but another part felt bad. She didn't mean to yell at him, but they couldn't stay there-they had to keep moving. If he wanted to yell at her for this and write her up, oh well, but he could do it after they were safe.
"Now stand up!" Emily's tone held more authority and command than even she thought possible. God, she sounded like her mother! Of all the things David Rossi had to bring out…she shook her head to clear it. Reaching for his hands, Em pulled him to his feet. "Now walk!"
One foot in front of the other, she chanted to herself. Her arm tightened around Dave's waist as she struggled to keep him upright. Almost there, almost there, almost there, she repeated as a singsong in her brain to keep on task.
"Emily Prentiss, I love you," Dave remarked out of the blue.
Her breath caught in her throat. "Okay," she replied and her heart picked up speed.
"You don't believe me," he replied, his tone full of hurt.
"I think it's the fever making you delusional, but we'll talk about it later, okay?" A sound caught her ear. Hotch? As her hopes began to rise, so did the hair on the back of her neck. Not good. In the words of David Rossi, Emily's "spidey sense" was on high alert. Holding on to Dave, she reached for her pistol.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," spoke a voice so chilling that Emily felt her blood run cold. "Put the purse down. Now!"
Emily swallowed heavily. With shaking hands, she obeyed. Her grip tightened on Dave as the figure moved from the brush into the clearing. The second UNSUB, Emily deduced. As her gaze swept over him, her brain tried to process possible weak points to get an advantage. Dread filled her as she realized that there weren't many, if any, and anything she planned on doing had to be done right the first time because there would not be a second chance.
Looking the UNSUB over, it dawned on her how lucky Dave had gotten by escaping with his life. And now she understood why he ordered her to run. Drawing on her patrician up bringing, Emily squared her shoulders and stood taller as she faced her potential killer.
"You won't get away with this," Emily commented, her tone as cold as George's. "The FBI is looking for you and for us. And they will find you. And they will shoot to kill."
"Perhaps they will, but first I am going to get enjoyment as I make the famous FBI profiler beg for his life. And his old lady is going to watch," George sneered as he leveled the rifle at Dave.
Emily fought to quell the fear rising in her body and mind. "This isn't going to help your cause. In fact, if they don't manage to kill you, but only arrest you, you will be executed for killing not only a deputy, but two FBI agents."
George looked at her in surprise. "What do you mean two FBI agents?"
"I am not his old lady; I am Supervisory Special Agent Emily Prentiss of the FBI. And we have people looking for us. And they won't stop until they find us…and you."
Instead of feeling thwarted, George couldn't believe his luck. Yeah, they might take him down, but he was going to take two of the FBI's own out first. He leveled his aim and his finger danced toward the trigger.
"I know why you are doing this," Emily spoke up. "You want power and respect. You weren't always like this-I can tell by your hesitation-once upon a time some one loved you. But that changed somehow. Maybe it was your mother or father who abused you, but it changed you and made you who you are."
George shook his head clear as Emily's words pierced his conscience. Realizing she hit a home run, she rushed on with her profiling. "It made you feel powerless. No one has ever respected you the way you they should. They misunderstand you; disrespect you, so you lash out. You aren't a killer by nature. You only killed the deputy because you felt cornered and because you couldn't risk him identifying you." Emily tried to catch her breath as she stalled for more time. "I don't think you want to kill us. Or you would have done so already."
George's eyebrows raised in mock surprise. "Oh, I want to kill you. But first I am going to make you beg for your life and for his." He pointed the rifle at Dave.
Emily might do a lot of things, take chances and risks that didn't make sense or put her life in danger, but she would never abandon her pride and beg for mercy. She was tired of running and being intimidated. She had to take it from her mother and from Strauss; she would be damned if she was going to take it from a murderous thug.
"No." Her declaration was clear and loud. "You want to kill me? Then do it. But I won't beg." Her unblinking defiant gaze met his intense glare squarely. Unflinching, Emily stood her ground as George narrowed his eyes and pulled the trigger.
At the last second Emily pushed Dave out of the way and felt the bullet pierce her shoulder. Son of a bitch! She cursed as the impact threw her to the ground and knocked the air from her lungs. Dazed, she tried to get to her feet and was stopped by the thrust of a rifle barrel in her face.
"Ready to beg now, bitch?" George growled. Emily felt the blood rush from her wound as her head started spinning. Flicking her gaze upward, she found George's eyes to be deep empty hazel pools. There was no mercy to be found. Leaves rustling made her look quickly to Dave and then back to her executioner.
"Go to hell!" Emily bit out in defiance and pain.
George sneered at her as he aimed the rifle. Before he could pull the trigger, a low rumble filled the air. Turning slightly, George barely had time to think before he was swept off his feet by a force that took him and Emily by surprise.
Emily had heard the growl and wondered if it was a bear. In the blink of an eye, George was lying on the ground away from her being pummeled by Dave. It only took a second for her to clear her head and scramble to her feet. Unable to locate the rifle, she spied her purse and sprinted to it. In the background she heard the blows being thrown from both sides.
Overwhelmed by pain, Emily tried to get her fingers to work as they ineffectively grasped the zipper. Come on Emily, come on! Finally getting the zipper down, she grasped the butt of the pistol. Turning around, Emily didn't even have a chance to aim before strong hands grasped hers and tried to force the weapon from her.
All of her training came back as she stood her ground and fought back. She knew that if she lost, she was dead. Struggling against a man twice her size, Emily delivered a blunt kick to his shin and another to his groin. In pain and winded, George let go.
Emily only had a millisecond to form a plan before a violent blow landed across her face and knocked her to the ground. The pistol flew from her hand, as darkness started to conquer her. Her vision blurred from blood and tears, she watched as George attacked Dave. Dave! Dizzy, nearly incoherent, and in pain, Emily struggled to her knees.
As the punches continued to fly, Emily frantically looked around for her pistol. Nothing. Where could it be? She heard Dave yell out for her to run. He was ordering her to save herself. But she wasn't going to leave him. Just as she was about to tackle George herself, Emily's fingertips brushed against something metal. The rifle. She didn't have time to check to see if it was loaded, but prayed that it was as she stood and lined her target.
"Hey!" Emily announced. George stopped hitting Dave long enough to turn around and see Emily with the rifle. Emitting an animalistic sound, he jumped to his feet and flew at her. Without hesitation, Emily pulled the trigger.
The report of the rifle echoed thru the silent woods as Emily's aim found its target. As the force of the bullet hit George between the eyes, his body was thrown clear of Emily.
With the life gone from his body, George landed with a thud on the ground. For a long second, Emily watched and waited for the broken lifeless form to move. Realizing that it was over, she threw the rifle to the ground and ran over to Dave.
"Dave! Dave! Wake up!" she ordered and checked his injuries. "Come on, stay with me. Open your eyes. Open your eyes. You can do it. You can do it." She reached into her pocket for the Kleenex and pressed it against the cut over Dave's eye to stem the blood flow. He wasn't waking up. Stifling a sob, she looked at the sky. Was it too late to request another miracle?
Meanwhile, Hotch and the team were frantically searching the area when they heard a gun shot. Looking at Reid, they started forward toward the sound.
Suddenly Mudgie broke free. "Mudgie! Mudgie!" Hotch called out. But the dog was deaf to the order, only intent on following the scent and noise his senses had picked up.
"Come on!" Hotch ordered the team. Not sure which direction to head toward, they decided to follow Mudgie. Weapons drawn and senses on full alert, Hotch and Reid picked up the pace to full speed when another gun shot filled the air.
No time for words, they broke into a run.
Emily was frantic. Dave continued to be unresponsive despite her attempts to bring him back to consciousness. Indifferent to the pain in her shoulder, she moved over him and tried to tend to the many cuts and bruises he had sustained. He had risked his life for hers. She could never pay him back.
"Come on Dave, open your eyes," she pleaded. A noise caught her ear. The frenetic rustling of leaves alerted her to someone coming their way. Oh God! She prayed and wondered if she could find the strength to ward off a second attack. Bracing herself, Emily waited.
Suddenly, without warning, Emily was knocked backwards by a heavy black force. Trying to get her wits together and catch her breath, Emily found her face being licked by a sloppy wet tongue. "Mudgie?" she croaked. The tongue continued as Emily burst into tears and laughter.
After determining that Emily was alright, Mudgie moved over to his master. Slurping his tongue across Dave's face, he waited. Getting no response, Mudgie nudged Dave's chest with his nose and started whining. One more lick and another whine.
Slowly with every bit of effort he could muster, Dave opened his eyes. "Hi boy," he greeted. Mudgie frantically started licking Dave's face out of excitement. Emily tried to process the whole thing when the area was suddenly surrounded by FBI and other law enforcement personnel.
"Emily!" Hotch called out and grabbed her shoulders to pull her into a bear hug. They were found. Emily didn't want to cry in front of the great Aaron Hotchner, but somehow the tears found their way out and streaked down her cheeks.
Emily pulled back and brushed the tears away. "I'm okay; go take care of Dave. He's been shot." She struggled to get to her feet, but Hotch stopped her.
"Emily, stay there; you've been shot too. I'll see to Dave." He snapped his fingers for assistance. "I need medical help over here. We have two officers down." Medical personnel moved in as law enforcement started to contain the crime scene.
Weakly Emily tried to push away the oxygen mask. She had to know how Dave was faring. Moved to a stretcher, she tried to look around but was halted as she was fitted for a C-collar. She barely felt the prick of the IV being inserted and taped down.
"Reid," she croaked out. She felt him grasp her hand. "Find out how Dave is. Please. They hurt him pretty bad. I have to know." Her words were slurred as darkness surrounded her. It seemed so inviting, so peaceful, and she wanted so badly to surrender to its promise of no pain, but she had to know about her partner first.
"Sir," a medical person commanded, "We have to move her out."
Reid looked at Emily and took in the cuts, bruises and the gauze covering her shoulder. "Wait just a second." Letting go of Emily's hand, he made his way to where they were prepping Dave for immediate transport. Darkeness threatened to take her as she desperately tried to stay awake.
She barely felt her hand being clasped by Reid as he called out for her. "Emily! Emily! He's going to be alright." Emily opened her eyes and smiled weakly. Why was Reid crying? She tried to sort it out, but gave up. "Emily, he wanted me to tell you 'good shot'."
Satisfied, Emily closed her eyes and gave into the sweet oblivion calling her name.
