"Jane?" Emily fought hard against Derek's strong arms as she watched the bloodied stretcher seed off down the hospital corridor. "Jane!"

The FBI agent grabbed his partner and pushed her back, pinning her against the wall to try and stop her struggling. "Emily stop! Stop ok? You have to calm down or you're going to hurt yourself."

Emily shoved the older man away from her, unwanted tears glistening in her eyes as she tried to take a breath in. "Don't fucking tell me to calm down. Jane is being rushed into surgery and I just have to wait here. Do you understand how that feels?"

"Em come on, you h-"

"No, just stop!" Emily shoved her one good hand out and held it up in front of her bowing head, trying to stop the pounding in her head.

Derek took a minute and let the brunette get her bearings back before reaching out to touch her shoulder. "Maybe you need to get checked out, Princess."

The FBI agent felt her body calming at the sound of her nickname and she gently shook her head. "No," she denied. "They checked me out in the ambulance, remember? No concussion, nothing."

"You're worked up."

Emily's jaw dropped, her hand fisting at her side trying to gain some kind of sense for what she was feeling. "How can I not be? Jane and I were taken and because of my stupid plan to escape, she got shot. This is my fault, Derek."

Hotch finally stepped forward, holding the discharge papers in his hand that he'd gotten from the front desk. Because his subordinate had needed to get her shoulder rechecked and a new sling, she wasn't permitted to leave until the papers were signed. "Emily, this is not your fault."

"Bullshit," she scoffed. "It doesn't matter if I didn't pull the trigger, Hotch. She was shot in a wound that was barely even beginning to heal all because I didn't know there were two kitchen entrances. If I had seen the separate doorway then I would have waited to make a move."

"If you would have waited then you both could have been injured. Believe it or not Emily, but you made the right decision."

Breathing deeply through her nostrils, Emily shook her head. "Well this decision sucked," she whispered, angrily wiping away a tear that fell down her cheek.

Hotch sat down beside the woman who was breathing hard, and he put the clipboard in her lap as he clicked the end of his pen. "Think of it this way: you sign these papers to let you out of here and we get over to the precinct so you can go and talk to Amber."

"Finally put that bitch away," she breathed, signing the forms as quickly as she could before walking out into the sunlight.

Looking up from her shivering hands, the bleached blond couldn't stop her eyes from widening at the sight of the injured agent walking into the interrogation room. "How the hell are you alive?"

Emily grinned, sitting herself down across from the younger woman with her shoulder finally beginning to numb from the tranquilizers she had been given. "Surprised?"

Amber's eyes darkened on the brunette woman, her cuffed hands clenching underneath the table. "Where's Chrissy?"

"In the hospital," she nodded, her fingers dancing across the cool table before leaning back in her chair. "Although if you'd want to see her then you might want to go to the morgue section."

"You bitch!"

Emily's brow rose at the sudden outburst, her features never faltering from the stoic gaze she held. "Sit down please."

Amber yanked hard at the handcuffs that locked her wrists together underneath the metal table, her veins popping out of her straining neck as she tried to get out of her restraints. "You fucking bitch! You killed her! You and that fucking whore of a girlfriend!"

"Sit down," she hissed through gritted teeth, her fingers pressing down hard on the table she sat at. No one spoke about her friend that way."

"I get it," the blond nodded hastily, leaning forward as much as she could with the cuffs on and staring crazily into the older woman's eyes. "I get why you wanna fuck her, it's the same reason I wanted Chrissy. She's pretty hot. But trust me," she seethed, "your bitch is nothing but a piece of white trash."

"Sit the fuck down, Amber."

Grinning to the FBI agent, Amber slowly sat back down into her seat. "Did I hit a nerve?"

Emily leaned forward, her dark eyes turning an ash black as the anger vibrated through her body. "You will not speak about her that way, do you understand me? Your now dead serial killer girlfriend was nothing compared to what Detective Rizzoli is. Get it? She saves lives on a daily basis, and you destroyed them."

"Shut up! SHUT UP!"

The brunette woman felt her body finally relax when her teammates rushed into the room, taking the twenty-five year old they had in custody and escorting her out of the room. Christina was dead and Amber was going to jail; they had finally stopped the killing streak, and the FBI agent was so thankful that not she nor Jane were one of the last victims.

...

Slowly opening up her eyes with the light screening through the windows brighter than it should have been, Jane made a face. The pain was too severe for her to even sit up.

She glanced down to her side and quickly found the remote for her hospital bed, waiting until she was in a sitting position so she could look to the small table littered in different gifts that people had left for her. "A teddy bear?"

"Flowers are overrated."

Jane felt her heart flutter, something that never happened to the Italian detective, and she looked across the room to share a smile with the diplomat's daughter.