"I need a medic!"
"Emily?"
"Em, are you alright?"
"Prentiss, can you hear me?"
"Emily?"
She could hear the voices. She could even make out who those voices belonged to. Derek. Ian. Reid. Hotch. Declan. She had heard several more gunshots before she started hearing the voices. It had been only a matter of seconds since she had been shot, but it felt like hours. She was down on the ground, and Ian was behind her. Declan had run over to her the second that Derek shot McDermott, and he was kneeling at her side, making sure that he was okay. The twelve year old had been through enough that day; he didn't want to lose Emily. He couldn't lose Emily.
Emily sat up once she had finally begun to grasp reality. Her head was pounding something fierce, and she had the worst pain in her chest. She glanced down and realized that that was where the bullet had hit her. Luckily she had had her Kevlar vest on. Without it, she probably would have been dead. For real this time. But because of it, she would be fine. She'd have some nasty bruising, but she would be fine.
She started to hear the sirens around her, and she frowned as she felt her head start to pound even harder. She had hit her head when she fell to the ground, but that was the least of her worries at the moment. It wasn't until she started to feel the soft kicks of her sweet baby that she felt okay.
"Emily? Em, I need you to look at me." Derek kneeled down next to his partner, his eyes meeting hers once she looked up at him. "We're gonna get you to the hospital, okay?"
A million thoughts were running through Emily's head. She was thinking about Ian and Declan and the baby. She was thinking about what was going to happen to Ian and where Declan was going to go and if her baby was okay. She was thinking about absolutely everything. But when Derek spoke to her, her response shocked the hell out of everyone around her.
"I need Ian to go with me."
Ian and every member of the team looked at Emily as if she had three heads. "Emily, what the hell are you talking about? You're in shock."
The brunette shook her head as she looked her partner dead in the eyes. "No, I'm not. I need Ian to go with me. I want someone to bring Declan to the hospital to meet us there but I need Ian to ride in the ambulance with me."
Every member of the Behavioral Analysis Unit thought that Emily was absolutely out of her mind. But no one could argue with her at this point in time. They knew that Ian couldn't just go free; he had to go back to prison to serve his time. But if what Emily believed she needed right now was Doyle, then they were going to let her have him.
The ambulances got there quickly, and paramedics began to take away the dead bodies of Lachlan McDermott and Chloe Donaghy. Hotch had led a hysterical Declan back to an SUV, promising the boy that they were going to take him straight to the hospital and that he could see Emily as soon as he was allowed. Two paramedics helped the pregnant woman onto a stretcher, and they took her blood pressure and checked her pulse. After they loaded her into the ambulance, Ian climbed in, his hands still handcuffed. Once the doors shut as her team was out of ear shot, the Irish man began to ask what he had been wondering since he saw the mother of his child pull out her gun.
"Why in the hell did you do that?"
And the sad part was, Emily didn't really have an answer. She hadn't quite had time to think before she pushed Ian down and jumped in front of the bullet. She acted out of instinct. She acted by what had first popped into her head. And she still wasn't quite sure about why she had down it.
Sure, the man had stabbed her in the abdomen with a table leg. But their relationship previously hadn't been full of sunshine and rainbows. Ian hitting her wasn't something that she wasn't used to. And that night, she had really pissed him off. She had taken Declan away from him, led him to believe that he had been dead all these years, and then dropped the bomb on him that he was alive and that she wouldn't ever tell him where he was. Of course she wasn't trying to justify what he had done, but it hadn't been completely his fault.
After not getting an answer to his question, Ian let out a small sigh and decided to ask another one. He decided that now, when she wasn't surrounded by a member of her team, was the right time to try and bring up the subject again.
"Is it mine?"
"Let me out of these."
"That's not how it went."
"I can't make you happy in handcuffs."
To her surprise, he hadn't completely rejected her. She knew that her attempt was one that would most likely be shot down fairly quickly, but she still opted to try. And it proved to be worth it. It didn't take long before they were back to where they were eight years ago, in each other's arms and unable to get the other's clothes off quick enough.
And to her surprise, she enjoyed it. She wasn't completely disgusted by sleeping with Ian Doyle. In some sick, twisted way, she actually missed it. She felt right with him, just as she had eight years ago. All of those inappropriate feelings that she had had for him came flooding back at that moment.
From the minute that she had found out that she was pregnant, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about him. She knew that it was completely and utterly fucked up, especially after what he had done to her. And she knew that it wasn't really her fault, but she knew that her actions were what forced him to do that. If she hadn't betrayed him, he would never have had to act the way that he did.
Emily lifted her head to look at the man in front of her. She glanced down at her big bump before looking back up at Ian. "Yes. It's yours."
