The Last Unbroken Heart
"I can't believe they just let you walk out of the hospital without so much as a fight," Derek said under his breath as the flight attendant handed him his can of Coke and cup of ice. Setting them down, he reached for the other drink and cup. "Thank you."
The flight attendant gave a smile and nod before moving up the aisle. Derek handed Dave the second can and cup.
"Thanks." Dave busied himself with pouring the sugary liquid and tried not to think about how the plane seemed to be moving at a snail's pace.
"How did you get out of there?"
"Donation to the Pediatric Ward," Dave replied without shame. Raising the cup to his lips, he took a long sip. It was worth it, Dave thought to himself.
"Cocky bastard," Derek grumbled. Dave gave a shrug. The minutes passed as the silence between the men stretched out.
"Don't think I don't know what happened between you and my princess," Derek said out of the blue. Dave raised an eyebrow. He really hadn't given it much thought with all that was happening in his life, but it didn't surprise him that FBI scuttlebutt had made its rounds.
"I'm surprised you didn't kill me or leave me to die," Dave quipped.
"I could have, but I had a change of heart and decided to bring you back home so Pen could do it for me," Derek replied with a satisfied smirk.
"I wouldn't expect anything less from Kitten." Dave savoured the Coke as though it were the sweetest nectar on the vine.
"That's if Emily doesn't get to you first," Derek finished as an after thought.
"I want to believe that I'll get a reprieve until after the baby is born."
"Better hope it doesn't come early. At least give you a chance to recover before you start pushing up daisies."
Dave drained the remaining Coke and set the cup down. He stretched his leg a little and felt a tug, but no pain. At least the meds were still working.
Derek looked at his watch. They would be landing in three hours. That gave him enough time to figure out a great excuse for breaking Rossi out of the hospital. The quick call to Pen to meet them at Reagan International supplied just a minute of detail before he turned his phone to vibrate. There was no doubt in Derek's mind that there was going to be hell to pay with Hotch, but right now he wanted to concentrate on the filled to capacity metal tube that shuddered every few minutes. A glance to his right at Dave, saw a man who was cool, calm and collect. Nothing to give away the probable trauma of having survived a plane crash.
"How do you do it?" Derek asked in amazement.
"Do what?" Dave rubbed his stomach and silently wished for one small bag of honey roasted peanuts the airlines used to give out.
"Act like nothing happened."
A look of confusion drew Dave's eyebrows together. "What do you mean?"
"You survived a plane crash; came thisclose to getting an incredible infection from a leg wound; charmed your way out of a hospital—where you should be right now; and when all is said and done, you're back on a plane—twice as high as when you were on the BAU jet," Derek replied.
"Because I don't blame the jet, or Mark," Dave answered as he tried to catch the eye of the flight attendant. He pushed himself up to get a better look around.
"Your plane fell out of the sky," Derek countered, under his breath, low enough not to be overheard by other passengers.
"Lightning struck the plane—twice," Dave corrected before reaching up to hit the CALL button. "Mark is the reason I'm alive."
"And you're the reason he's alive."
"Heh. Think I'm going to put him in for a commendation when we get back to Quantico."
"Once the investigation is completed," Derek finished.
"Just government covering its ass," Dave returned. The flight attendant stopped by their aisle.
"Can I help you?" the pretty brunette asked with a comforting smile.
"I hate to ask this, but I haven't had anything to eat in hours, and I was wondering…"
The attendant peered closely as she studied Dave's face. Her face brightened with recognition. "Oh, you're David Rossi!" she exclaimed in a soft whisper as to not alert the other passengers.
Derek groaned under his breath. Dave held up his hand to stem any further bursts of excitement. "Yes, I am," he concurred.
"I heard about your incident; I thought you were going to be in the hospital for a while longer?" Her face showed a mixture of surprise and relief.
Dave nodded, despite Derek muttering, "Try telling him that," under his breath. "I didn't get your name."
"Harris."
Dave nodded, raised his head to make eye contact. "Harris, would you, by any chance, have something in the galley—a bag of peanuts or candy?" Dave inquired in the smooth tone he had perfected for getting the things he needed.
Harris bit her lip. "I don't know. We're going to be passing brochures around if you want to order something..." she offered.
"The thing is… well, my personal items were destroyed, and my friend paid for this ticket. Just something to tide me over until we land."
Harris paused to think, before brightening. "I...think I do. Would you care for anything else? A scotch? A whiskey? A bourbon and water?" she listed off the drink choices.
Dave waved her off. "I'm fine. Another Coke will do...and one for my friend, if you don't mind."
Harris flashed a smile. "I'll be right back." She hurried down the aisle toward the front of the plane.
"You certainly have a way with women," Derek remarked with admiration and disgust.
"It's a gift from God."
"Hopefully it isn't hereditary. If there is a God, He will grace that child with Emily's characteristics."
"Shoot the snake instead of charming it?" Dave wondered with amusement.
"Exactly."
Harris returned with a boxed lunch. "This was supposed to be for my break, but I'm letting you have it. It isn't much—just a chicken salad sandwich, apple sauce and cheese." She handed the box over. "If you need anything else, please let me know." Harris gave a smile before leaving.
"You sly dog."
"When you got it, flaunt it," Dave replied without shame. He ripped the cellophane off of the tray. Taking one half of the sandwich, Dave wrapped it in a serviette and handed it to Derek. "Here."
Derek looked surprised by the gesture. "What's that?"
"I know you haven't eaten. Take it."
Derek took the half, looked at it, then at Dave. "This isn't going to get me to change my mind about kicking your ass, you know?"
"Eat the sandwich, Derek."
Elizabeth Prentiss moved the phone from her ear and hit the end button. "That was my pilot. The plane is fueled and will be ready to depart the moment we board," she relayed the information to Emily and JJ who were sitting on the bed, breathlessly awaiting an update.
JJ was more than impressed by the lightning-fast way Ambassador Prentiss had gotten the ball rolling when Emily made her request. "Wow! I thought the BAU moved fast. 'Wheels up!' has nothing on this."
"My pilot is going to fly low enough not to cause any problems, but high enough to get us some speed. I think we want to get to Colorado before nightfall."
Emily sighed with gratefulness at the way everyone was bending over backward to accommodate her. "Thanks, Mother."
Elizabeth's face softened with genuine love. "You're welcome, Emily."
JJ looked at her watch. "I'm going to call Hotch and update him. I'll meet you at the car in say….twenty minutes?" She pulled out her phone and dialed quickly, before leaving the room.
Emily felt her eyes well up with tears. "Yeah. Sure." She was so overwhelmed by everything—divorcing Dave, the plane crash, then the news that Dave was found alive—she barely had had time to breathe.
"Okay. Let's get you packed."
"Mother, we're not going to be out there for very long," Emily protested. Leave it to the Ambassador to take over the situation.
"It's better to be safe than sorry," Elizabeth replied. She walked to the closet and pulled down a suitcase from the overhead shelf.
"I have a Go-bag."
"Just a few things for Dave."
"Mother."
"Emily," Elizabeth spoke from inside the walk-in closet. "Get your hands off of your hips."
"Arrrgh. Mother—" How did the Ambassador have the ability to relegate her to a child with only a couple of words?
"How did I know? Mother's instinct. You'll have it soon enough."
"Mother, I don't think—"
"I'm sure all of this clothing was destroyed, so we should bring him a few things. What does he like?"
"Jeans and a long sleeved shirt with a sports coat," Emily replied and stood up. "I'll get them. Oh!"
Elizabeth stepped out into the bedroom. "What did you say?"
Emily looked confused, bewildered by a feeling she couldn't put her finger on. "I-I don't know." Just then a pain—dull at first, then building in intensity—pulled on her back, causing her to gasp.
Immediately, Elizabeth was by her daughter's side. "Emily, are you okay?"
"Mother, I think we're going to have to postpone going to see Dave," Emily replied in a calm-in-the- eye-of-the-storm way.
Now it was Elizabeth's turn to be confused. "What do you mean?"
A splash of water hit the tops of Emily's shoes. "I'm in labour."
