Chapter Twenty-One

An ambulance was called for the man, who'd been hit by a joy-riding teenager, by an elderly-couple that had been just feet behind the man. As they waited for help to arrive, the old man managed to kneel down next to the young man and check for a pulse; which he found after a few minutes of fumbling with the collar of the man's now blood-soaked jacket. It was weak but it was there, meaning that he was still alive; contrary to how he looked with all that blood.

'How is he Alfred?' The old woman, presumable Alfred's wife, asked her husband of forty-seven years.

"He's got a heart-beak darlin'... I don' know 'bout anythin' else..." Alfred answered, his aged southern-drawl sounding defeated and tired, he hoped this poor lad didn't die.

"The ambulance is on its way Alfred," the old woman said her voice frail and weathered by age.

"Well, I'm sure he'll be a'right Ver'a," Alfred tried to reassure his wife as he slowly rose to his feet, groaning as he did so. They both heard the sound of sirens close by, "See darlin', they're a'ready on their way."

-CoaK-CM-CoaK-CM-CoaK-

'Oh my God!' JJ breathed softly as the vibrations in the ground subsided and they noticed small clouds of dust around the door into the crypt.

'Hotch! Morgan!' Prentiss shouted as she dived towards the door; Rossi and JJ not far behind. Reid, due to his crutches, couldn't move much from where he was and knew that if he did he'd get in the way.

'Emily! Wait!' Rossi managed to grab her arm and restrain her as he took control of the situation, 'JJ. Call the emergency services, make sure they're on their way and that they've got heavy-duty equipment; there's been some sort of cave-in. Reid, call Garcia. See if she can get the blueprints of this crypt.'

Reid nodded and both he and JJ fished out their cell phones; he'd retrieved his from the SUV after the little 'kidnap' incident, and each called their respective contacts.

Emily looked at Rossi and said, 'what if they're hurt?'

Rossi, feeling bad because he knew that Emily cared too much sometimes; of course, when she did care about a person she grew emotionally attached to them since she had abandonment issues; probably stemming from her turbulent upbringing. But he couldn't have her doing anything that could get her hurt, 'what if they're not and you go and get yourself injured? How do you think they'll feel knowing you got injured doing something rash?'

Emily blinked and swallowed, before nodding saying quietly, 'you're right.... you're right.'

After a few moments Rossi felt it was safe for him to relinquish his grip on Emily's arm and said, his voice its regular timbre and with its reassuring nature, 'why don't we come over here and when the emergency services arrive they can get straight to work?'

Emily just nodded absently and allowed Rossi to gently steer her over towards Reid and JJ; she desperately wanted to go and find Hotch and Morgan. She didn't know how she could handle them being injured.... she didn't know how she could handle them being- No! She refused to think like that! They'll be alright! They're Hotch and Morgan; the two toughest of the entire team. No-one got into a fight with either of them unless they wanted to lose... no, they were going to be alright. They had to be...

-CoaK-CM-CoaK-CM-CoaK-

He groaned loudly as he reluctantly entered into the world of reality; the world of pain; the world where he was trapped under a large piece of a weeping angel, stupid bloody Angel...

Deciding whether or not to open his eyes and probably see nothing but more darkness he heard the soft sounds of laboured breathing; not his own of course, and decided to open his eyes to see if he could find out where the sound came from.

Whilst he was expecting darkness to greet him he was not prepared from the blinding light from one of the flashlights they'd brought down into the recesses of Hell with them. Scrunching his eyes closed against the sudden light he winced as he also turned his head away and it collided with something that was harder than him, ow...

After giving himself a few minutes to allow his sight to be ready for the glaring torture of the light, he gingerly opened his eyes and managed to not be entirely blinded. Noticing that the flashlight was only about ten-centimetres from his head he tried to reach out for it with his left hand and was rewarded with a sharp pain in his elbow and shoulder which resulted in his gasping and once again squeezing his eyes shut against more pain, this so is not my day...

Once he felt as though most of the pain had subsided, or at least became a manageable ache, he once again opened his eyes and slowly inched his hand closer to the flashlight; gritting his teeth at the increasing pain, until his fingers brushed against the cylindrical flashlight and he grasped it loosely in his hand. Breathing out in relief he slowly slid his arm back down towards the rest of his body where it would be less painful; or he hoped it would be less painful, before turning the flashlight around in his hand and angling it over towards where he could hear the laboured breathing, damn.... I hate having dislocated shoulders....

He managed to manoeuvre the flashlights beam until it fell across a familiar, blood-streaked face.

"Hotch..."