A/N: Life is really getting in the way of having time to myself at the moment, but it's a very exciting time so I'm trying to stop being a control freak and go with the unpredictability! I did manage to wrangle some downtime today though so I hope you enjoy the update. Thanks for reading and reviewing. I know with the way this story seems to be heading that it might not look like I'm listening to what you say, but I really am!

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As she made her way along the all too familiar corridors, JJ felt her mood darken at being back at the hospital yet again. It didn't help that she was dreading the reason for her visit. Interviewing Emily was a task no one had been particularly quick to step up to, but it was something they all knew needed to be done. And while she wasn't exactly ecstatic that she would be the one forcing her friend to relive the trauma of the previous day, she supposed it was better to get it over with sooner rather than later. With a sigh, and one last glance at the gaudy purple flowers she'd purchased in the gift shop on the ground floor, she showed her ID to the officer posted outside of Emily's hospital room.

Upon hearing her friend's voice carrying through from the corridor, Emily propped herself up against the pillows and straightened her appearance. Since Derek had left to make the new arrangements for Lucy's protective custody, she'd been drifting in and out of restless sleep. Nothing felt right but she couldn't put her finger on each element contributing to the nagging feeling which wouldn't let her relax. At least she had her own clothing now - there was something moderately less pathetic about sweatpants and a T-shirt in comparison to a hospital gown. But it did nothing to detract from the angry bruises across her temple and their violent contrast with her chalk-white skin. If only to stop Derek's expression looking so pained when he returned, she hoped that JJ would have some make-up she could borrow.

"Hey, it's good to see you up. How are you feeling?" the blonde enquired, stepping through the door with a smile as artificial as the colouring of the flowers she clasped in one hand.

"I take it this isn't a social call?" Emily responded dryly, immediately picking up the other woman's poorly hidden unease.

At once, JJ's face relaxed into a more natural and sympathetic expression. She should have known Emily wouldn't have fallen for, or needed, her false cheer. But it didn't make the conversation any easier.

"We need to know exactly what happened," she replied, still sounding more like she was speaking to an unknown victim than to one of her closest friends. "I know you told the police you didn't remember all the details, but we have to try."

"They're dead. What happened is irrelevant. You need to find the shooter."

"We will," the blonde assured her, placing the flowers at the foot of the bed and trying not to stare at the bruises as she came closer. "But you might have heard something, or seen something that could help."

"I didn't," Emily insisted, casting her eyes down to the faded logo on her shirt.

"Emily..." JJ reasoned. They'd known each other long enough for her to see clearly that her colleague was avoiding something.

Emily turned away, choosing to look out of the window rather than acknowledge JJ's knowing eyes. She didn't want to talk about what had happened and she certainly didn't want to go through every second and feeling, which was what she was sure her colleagues intended. It didn't all make sense to her. There were things she could remember that she'd rather forget, and gaping holes where other memories should be. Not to mention her inability to straighten out what she was feeling, never mind articulate it.

"I'm tired," she mumbled.

JJ frowned at Emily's evasiveness. The compartments were closing up once again and all her body language gave away was that she was hurting.

"I know," she sympathised. Whatever else was going on, the physical effects of Emily's head injury were undoubtedly adding to her pain. "But I've seen you rally after days with only a few hours sleep," she added with a smile. "It takes more than a knock to the head to keep you down."

Despite the injured woman's persistence in keeping her face hidden from her friend, JJ heard a quiet snort in response to her remark, and knew that it would have been accompanied by at least the hint of a smile. After a few seconds Emily turned around, briefly squeezing her eyes shut as the motion caused a fresh ache to form in her skull.

"Are you okay?" the blonde grimaced.

"I really don't remember anything other than what I told the police," she replied, once again avoiding a direct response to JJ's concern.

"Just run through it with me then," JJ suggested. "You never know what might come back to you."

"You don't understand," Emily sighed, feeling her eyes sting with the threat of tears. The sense of humiliation grew stronger as she focussed in on one of the many unpleasant thoughts in her head.

"Then let me," her friend pleaded, reaching out and taking hold of her hand, before she could pull it away.

Emily licked her lips, as her mouth suddenly felt deprived of moisture. There was no avoiding the fact that she'd have to talk at some point. And better to JJ than some Bureau mandated shrink.

"I went somewhere else when it was happening. In my head, I wasn't there. I just... He had a gun and I was going... He was..." she trailed off, unable to articulate her embarrassment at how she had reacted. She wasn't the average victim; she was a trained federal agent. "I stopped fighting," she admitted. "I just... zoned out and waited to die. So, no, I don't remember."

She fell quiet as she used all her energy to stop her admission opening the floodgates for all her fragmented thoughts and fears to come bursting out. JJ allowed her a moment before she responded.

"Emily, I don't need to tell you that's a perfectly natural reaction. He was trying to kill you. No amount of training or experience can make that any less frightening."

"But I should have paid more attention. I know how important the details can be," she sighed, shaking her head and biting her lip, as her frustration with herself took over.

"Let me take you through it," JJ prompted, sensing they were only scratching the surface of what was going on behind Emily's troubled eyes. "If we don't get anywhere then I promise I'll leave you alone to rest."

With some reluctance, Emily nodded, and let her gaze fall towards the end of the bed, as she tried to pull herself together.

"Thanks for the flowers," she smiled weakly.

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"Hotch, have you got a minute?"

Morgan hovered in the doorway of his boss's office, lacking much of his normal confidence. Now was a time to grovel, and that wasn't something he was typically very good at. Although, with the extent of guilt he felt at just having handed Lucy over to agents who were complete strangers to her, his state of mind seemed appropriate for the task.

Hotch nodded, his own demeanour equally deflated. Of all the calls he'd made in the past twenty-four hours, a public altercation with a fellow agent hadn't been the best. And judging by the day he was having, that was saying something.

"I'm sorry about last night," Morgan began. "I lost my temper."

"I shouldn't have reacted," Hotch responded. "I knew you were upset."

They acknowledged one another's apologies in a moment of silence, before Morgan extended his hand towards Hotch and they shook. There was bound to be some enduring uncomfortableness but what needed to be said was out in the open. An overspill of stress and misplaced anger didn't need much comment.

"How's Emily?" Hotch asked. All day, as he alternated between working with his team and smoothing over media and public relations, the condition of his agent had been at the back of his mind. In any other circumstances, he'd already have visited, but there just hadn't been the opportunity.

"Better. But she's going to need some time to recover," Derek replied. "That's what I wanted to speak to you about."

"She'll be signed off on medical leave for at least two weeks," the unit chief confirmed. "And I want her to speak to someone. Her behaviour was worrying even before she was injured."

Morgan sighed, hating to admit that Hotch was right after he'd so fiercely defended Emily the previous day, but knowing that the case had been chipping away at her since it came into their lives.

"I want to be there for her," he explained, leaving talk of therapists aside for the time being. "I know we're still working the case, but I can't just leave her on her own."

"What do you need?" Hotch asked. It almost brought a sense of relief to see Morgan taking a responsible approach to Emily's recovery. It was one less thing to worry about, knowing that she wouldn't have the opportunity to fall even deeper into the hole her fixation on Doyle had led her down.

"I need to take some leave. Compassionate leave, vacation time - I don't expect it to be paid - anything you can do."

"I'll sort it," Hotch assured him. "What are you going to do?"

"We're going to Chicago. We both need to get away," he replied.

"That's a good idea. Take as long as long as you need."

Hotch knew only too well what the job could do to relationships. Unlike with himself and Haley, both Morgan and Prentiss were experiencing the same side of the long hours and tough cases, but that didn't stop the pressures mounting up. He'd been the one to assure Strauss that his agents could maintain both a professional and personal relationship, and he'd been rooting for them right from the start. It pained him to think Emily's old demons might get in the way.

"Thanks, Hotch," Morgan replied, thankful to be back on side with the unit chief. He stood up to leave, knowing there was a lot to organise before Emily was released from the hospital, but then hesitated. "We've all got your back," he told the other man. "And you made the right call with the meeting at the park and leaving Emily at the safe house. I know I said differently last night, but you did nothing wrong."

While he wanted to believe Morgan's changed point of view, Hotch was too caught up in his own doubts to take it at face value. Still, he acknowledged it with an appreciative nod. The loyalty his team offered him meant more than they knew.

"Get back to Emily," he instructed. "I'll try to stop by later."

/
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The other three members of the team had now moved themselves into the oddly comforting surroundings of Garcia's office. After they'd returned from their break she had insisted she needed all her systems and resources at her fingertips if she was going to track down the mystery "Mark". With a second wind, and a renewed sense of determination, the once endless list of names was being narrowed down bit by bit. And now Reid had returned with an update from JJ's interview with Emily.

"Emily remembered that one of the men spoke with a local accent," he supplied, as two expectant faces turned towards him.

"Anything else?" Rossi asked.

"There might have been a silver van on the street about half an hour before they entered the house. With a logo for EZ Repairs. She remembered thinking it looked out of place in the neighbourhood."

"Well that's something," the older man commented, as Garcia immediately ran a search on the company's name.

"How's she holding up?" Penelope asked, while her computer system worked its magic.

"JJ said she's tired but staring down anyone who tries to help her," Reid replied, feeling slightly lifted as he relayed the news that Emily was acting more like her normal self. It seemed that JJ's intervention had been required to stop her entering a full blown argument with the orderly who had offered to assist her in getting up to use the bathroom.

Rossi chuckled and Garcia smiled one of very few genuine smiles of the day. It didn't take much imagination at all to picture how their friend was dealing with being confined to a hospital room, and it reminded them that they were all going to come through this nightmare case eventually.

The pinging sound from the machines drew their attention back to the search.

"Oh, now we're getting somewhere!" Penelope grinned, as she read the names flashing up on her screen. "EZ Repairs is owned by a Joe Pearson, who just happens to be the brother of the very same Mark Pearson whose name was right in the middle of my list of DC's super shady."

The two agents and the technical analyst took a minute to scrutinise the mug shots of the dark haired, thirty-something brothers, and their records of past drug possession and assault.

"I don't think there's a coincidence in that connection," Rossi remarked, as Garcia forwarded the men's details to everyone on the team.

Finally, they had a solid lead.