A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long. I had a migraine and a bad sinus infection that wouldn't go away.

Chapter 25

Emily slowly walked inside the empty courtroom with Briscoe directly behind her. He looked around the room where the shooting had taken place, and grimaced as the memories came flooding back. The pandemonium. Abby Carmichael crouched down on the floor trying to stay alive. And then there was Jack McCoy. The prosecutor lying on the floor next to her bleeding profusely. Then his eyes fell on the bloodstain still on the floor from where the counselor had laid on his back after being shot.

Lennie sighed as he fought back the memories so he could do his job. He didn't have a problem following leads and doing whatever police work necessary wanting to bring this case to a successful resolution. But despite what had been uncovered so far, he still questioned if McCoy's shooting was actually part of a conspiracy like the BAU said, or if this was going to be a total waste of time.

"So this is how it went down," he wisecracked with a shake of his head and put his hands on his hips. He paused as Prentiss turned and faced him. "Y'know, agent…"

"It's Emily, detective," Prentiss said with a small grin. She liked this senior detective, and found him not only easy to talk to, but friendly once he'd gotten past having to work with her team. But despite everything, she suspected the detective still had doubts as to the conspiracy theory.

"Y'know, Emily, we at the Two-Seven are damn good at solving cases. But I gotta admit I really can't conceive of something being as involved as you claim this is."

Prentiss sighed wearily as she reached for her cell phone inside her pocket. "Don't beat yourself up, Lennie. Once everything falls in place, this'll all become clear to you and your cohorts." After pressing the top button on her phone, she put the phone to her ear.

"Hotch? Emily. Listen, I'm still at the courthouse with Detective Briscoe. We found the listening device in the jury room. But while we're here, we thought we'd check out something else. Hotch, I have a theory as to how our second shooter entered the courtroom unnoticed, and I'd like to check it out." Briscoe noticed her eyebrows arch upward and her eyes widen. "He did? That's great news. You think he might be able to answer a few questions? I see. What about JJ? Think our guy has something to do with that? No. We're going to check out my theory before we return to the precinct. Okay. Bye." She disconnected the call and returned the phone to her pocket.

"Good news?" asked Briscoe innocently with raised eyebrows of his own.

"Yeah." Prentiss smiled. "Hotch got a call from District Attorney Schiff. Seems McCoy came out of his coma and may be able to answer a few questions. He asked to see Hotch."

Briscoe's smile widened. "That's great. Sounds like the counselor's on the mend."

"Yeah," Emily replied, as she thought about how this news affected Hotch. "Hopefully. Hotch sounded real happy about the news."

Lennie then became serious. "I bet he is. You asked about JJ. I assume that's the blonde? Agent Jareau I think her name is?"

"That's her. Seems she went to the home of Sally Driscoll, the nurse who provided Jack with the tainted IV in the hospital. She was found dead from an apparent overdose."

"Suicide?" Briscoe asked with knitted eyebrows.

"We're not sure. She did leave a note stating that 'he' made her do it. We have no idea who 'he' is at this point. Hotch sent your partner to her home as JJ's there alone. Hopefully together they can find something to tell us who this 'he' is."

"Tell me something. Did your boss say anything regarding his earlier talk Rey? I mean, they were suppose to talk."

Prentiss shrugged noncommittally. "He didn't say. But knowing Hotch as I do, I'm sure he did before he sent your partner to join JJ at the crime scene. You'll just have to ask him or Hotch yourself."

Briscoe let out a deep breath and glanced around. "Guess you're right. So where to next?"

"Let's see if we can find out how our second shooter got into the courtroom without drawing attention to himself. Then we can compare what we find out with what Hotch is told by McCoy."

Abby Carmichael was seated in her office reviewing the file of Jacob Herlihy for umpteenth time. Truthfully, she had no idea as to how many times she had reread this file hoping to find something she hadn't found previously, or exactly what she was looking for. Perhaps something she might have missed. Something…anything. Something that might offer a clue as to who shot Jack, or show that Estelle or Malcolm Herlihy were involved.

Despite what she had been told by Agent Hotchner, she couldn't let go of the file belonging to the man she and Jack had convicted at the time despite being told the Herlihys weren't involved. Her gut kept telling her that something was wrong somewhere. Of that she was positive! And she was determined to find out what that something was. She felt she owed it to Jack to find out who did this to him.

As she continued to dwell over the file, there came a knock on her door, causing her to look up, annoyed at the interruption.

"Come in," she ordered. Her annoyance dissipated when the door opened, and Agent Rossi stood in the doorway, a stack of files in his arms which she assumed were the same files agents Reid and Jareau had borrowed earlier. She smiled warmly and got to her feet.

"Agent Rossi," she said holding out her hand.

"Dave," Rossi corrected with a smile. He sat the files in one of the two chairs in front of her desk, then gripped her outstretched hand and held it firmly in his own. He mused at how soft her skin felt and ran his thumb over the back of her hand as he tightened his grip.

"Agent Rossi? Dave? My hand?" asked Abby. She was amused by the older man's not so subtle attempt to conceal his attraction. In addition to finding it flattering, she admitted to herself she did find the senior agent attractive despite the age difference.

"Sorry," Dave blushed and quickly released her hand. God, she is so beautiful! I envy McCoy working with her on a daily basis. He licked his suddenly dry lips and ran a hand over his thick hair. "Uh…I thought I'd return the files we borrowed earlier," he stammered. He felt like a giddy school boy instead of an adult and a seasoned federal agent.

"Thank you. Anybody stand out that we should be looking at?" she asked as she sat down slowly on the edge of her desk.

"We were able to eliminate all of them," Rossi admitted. He crossed his arms across his chest while peering into her dark brown eyes.

Abby let out a deep breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "So what happens now?"

"We keep looking. Right now all we have are bits and pieces. But we're making progress, trust me. Also, our supervisor is going to question your boss later today."

"Is Jack able to tolerate being questioned? Mr. Schiff had called and updated me earlier telling me that Jack was undergoing tests. Apparently he's waking up, and had begun regaining some feeling in his legs last night. But will he be able to be of help at this point?"

"From what I understand, he's asked to see Agent Hotchner. So Hotch is gonna visit him later. Hopefully he can give him some answers."

"Agent Hotchner. I assume he's the one Jack calls Hotch."

Rossi smirked. "One and the same. Of course to me he's Aaron as we've known each other for over twenty years. By the way, before I forget, he wants me to inform you that when we're ready to deliver the profile, he'd like you and Mr. Schiff to be present."

"Of course. Do you know when that'll be?"

Rossi let out a deep breath. "Soon," he replied. It was then his eyes spotted the open folder on Abby's desk behind her. His eyebrows arched upward. "Whose folder is that?" he asked suspecting he knew the answer.

Carmichael glanced over her shoulder at the file then turned back to the agent. "I'm just looking through the folder of the last case Jack and I prosecuted before he was shot."

"Jacob Herlihy?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Just curious. We eliminated the Herlihys. So I have to wonder why you're interested in reexamining his file."

"To be honest, I have no idea. It's just that my gut is trying to tell me something that I can't figure out. Has that ever happened to you in your line of work?"

Rossi chuckled. "Many, many times." He took a deep breath as he continued to stare at the ADA. "Miss Carmichael…"

"Abby."

"Right…Abby. Let me change the subject for a moment if I may."

"Of course. What is it?"

"I know we might be a long way from solving this case, and this is probably not the right time, but I want to ask this now."

"Ask me what?"

"When this case is solved, and your boss is on the road to recovery, before my team and I head back to Quantico, I'd like to take you on a date. If that's okay with you."

Carmichael smiled. "Agent Rossi, once I'm convinced Jack is going to be fine, and we find the guilty person, I would very much like to go on a date with you before you return to Quantico."

Rossi's smiled widened, and he couldn't wait for this case to be solved.

Rey Curtis spotted the Coroner's wagon pulling away from the curb as he climbed the steps. Producing his credentials to the uniform at the front door, he was permitted entry into the premises where he found the CSI people hard at work, and recognized the blonde federal agent waiting for him. He suspected the Unit Chief had phoned her and alerted her of the detective's pending arrival.

"Agent Jareau…" he said when she approached. "Agent Hotchner sent me to join you. He thought maybe the two of us can find out who this person was who forced Nurse Driscoll to poison Jack McCoy and may have had something to do with her death."

JJ smiled warmly. "Glad you're here," she said. "And there's no need to be so formal. It's JJ, not Agent Jareau."

Curtis smiled just as warmly. "You can call me Rey." He took a deep breath. "What have you got so far?"

"Not much. The Coroner removed the body before you got here. CSU's been here for a little over an hour going through everything, and haven't found anything so far. I found the empty pill bottle and suicide note in her bedroom. Hopefully we can find out who this 'he' is."

"Where do you want to begin?"

"She was found dead in her bedroom. Let's start there."

It was several hours later that a mobile gurney on which lay Jack McCoy, was wheeled back into the ICU where Adam Schiff was standing in front of a window in Jack's room. His back was turned toward the door, both hands stuffed in his pants pockets, and staring at the people below in the street. When the door opened, he turned around to see what was happening. He smiled as the mobile stretcher gurney, maneuvered by two female nurses, one in front and the other in the rear, came closer. He noticed Jack's face was turned in his direction, and staring at him with what looked like a smile. Also, the ventilator had been replaced with a nasal cannula with an over-the-ear style headset. There were curved, tapered nasal prongs which fit inside the nostrils, and would allow an uninterrupted flow of oxygen.

Doctor Smythe, walking beside the gurney with his eyes down, scanned the documents attached to the clipboard he held in his hands. As the gurney was positioned beside the bed, both nurses locked the wheels on it, and prepared to move the patient back onto his regular bed. Smythe gestured to Schiff to join him a short distance away so they could talk privately while being out of the way of the nurses.

"Do you have his test results?" asked Schiff anxiously. "How is he?"

Smythe let out a deep breath. "Much better than I expected considering his condition at the time he was admitted."

Adam ran one hand over the back of his neck while keeping his other in his pants pocket. "What are you saying exactly?"

"Our tests show his pneumonia has cleared up completely and his lungs are clear, so we no longer need the ventilator. As you can see, we now have him using a nasal cannula to aid with his breathing. His injuries are healing nicely, and there's no sign of infection anywhere. A test of his eyesight shows his eyes react to both light and movement. His pupils were able to follow somebody whenever they were present in the room."

"What about his legs? Any more improvement since last night?"

"The swelling has gone down more thus allowing additional movement to be realized. I believe it's now safe to say that I expect in time he should regain full use of his legs. Of course he'll have to undergo two months of rigorous physical therapy. But if he applies himself to therapy the same way he's applied himself to surviving, there's no doubt in my mind he should fully recover."

Schiff smiled widely. "That's wonderful!"

"I agree. It's as I told you earlier, Mr. McCoy is a strong man with an incredible will to survive."

"So what happens now?" asked Schiff.

"Mr. McCoy will remain here in the ICU for another few days before being moved to a room of his own where he'll stay for about three days. Then he'll be moved to a rehabilitation facility where he'll stay for about two months while he regains the strength in his legs before being allowed to return home."

"Forgive me for asking, doctor, and there's no hurry, but how long before Jack can return to work?"

Smythe crossed his arms in front of him. "My best guess is he should be able to return to work in about six months. Of course this will depend on how well he does with his therapy."

"Thank you, doctor," Adam replied. "Thank you for everything you've done for Jack." He stuck out his hand.

"You're entirely welcome, Mr. Schiff," Smythe said as he gripped the older man's hand firmly and shook it. "So glad I could help."

After Smythe and the nurses had left the room, Adam sat back down in the hard chair. He and Jack were studying each other. The older man smiled.

"Jack, I spoke with Agent Hotchner. He's going to come by this evening to see you. He'll be as delighted with this news as I am and I believe Miss Carmichael will be."

Jack smiled weakly. "I am…glad. Can't wait…to see…Aaron."

"He'll be here. He promised he would."

"Go home…Adam. Don't…need…to be…here. Go…rest."

Schiff chuckled. "I think we both need to get some rest before Agent Hotchner arrives. So why don't you close your eyes and get some sleep. I'll let you know when he gets here. I promise."

He collapsed in his comfy chair again with a fresh can of beer and took a sip. For over an hour he had been thinking of a way to get to one of McCoy's doctors and 'convince' him to kill the prosecutor but without success. Then a new thought occurred to him. He figured in a short time the lawyer would probably be moved from Intensive Care to a private or semiprivate room for a day or two. Even then an attempt would be difficult and out of the question as the feds guarding him would be reduced from four to two, but still there. In the end, McCoy would be sent to a rehabilitation center. Even then to try anything would prove difficult.

The attorney currently had too much security around him thus making it too risky to try again right now. It would be better if he waited. Waited as long as need be in order to finish the job on Jack McCoy. This was the right thing to do if he wanted it done right. He simply needed to wait until things quieted down and the security surrounding McCoy was removed entirely. He would simply wait until he got out of rehab and was allowed to go home. Then he would strike and kill the man when he was at his most vulnerable and unprotected! He would put the man out of his misery permanently.

A smile appeared followed by another swallow of beer.