Thanks everyone for the comments. To those of you I can't reply to through PM, I really appreciate your feedback and thank you for reading. Now, onto the chapter. No cliffhangers this time… probably.

Chapter 10: Paris

"Oh! Oh! Oh. My. God," Garcia yelled. "I think I found Emily. I think I found her. She was in an accident!"

The team surrounded her, spitting out questions about Emily, her location, everything, all at once and Garcia couldn't understand any of it.

"One at a time," she demanded, clicking away. "Emily's in trouble. Before I could say she was just being a spy, you know? Finding trouble and trouble trying to find her, but that's not all that happened. She was in an accident."

"Where Garcia?" Clyde tried to calm her, his blue eyes kind and comforting as he looked into hers.

"She's in France like we thought. Paris."

Hotch asked, "Is that where the accident was?"

"Yes. Three days ago."

"What happened?"

She clicked on the keyboard and then turned her laptop for the rest to see, hitting play. They watched the screen as CCTV footage showed a normal street and traffic.

"This is Emily's car," she said, pointing to center of the screen. "Watch."

They all saw an uneventful scene until a black sedan started creeping into the picture. Garcia paused it and explained, "I pieced together the footage to make it one cohesive thing, so it might jump, but you'll get the gist."

Turning it back on, they watched as Emily sped up, trying to outwit the other car. Watching the accident play out. Garcia closed her eyes as it played, the others were either too shocked to speak or let out a gasp. But their reactions only got worse.

Cringing already, Garcia said, "Keep watching."

And so they did. They watched as Emily got out of the car, stumbling. They watched her fight to get up and, presumably, check on Nate. They saw as the paramedics and police came to help, Emily valiantly pushing them away and toward Nate.

But then they were all shocked when they saw a man, seemingly come out of nowhere and attack Emily. He had a gun in his hand, ready to use it if necessary, but when it looked like the crowd was tipping off the police, he just body checked Emily. As she went down, it looked like he planned to use her as a hostage, but, instead, ended up being shot himself.

"Is Emily ok?"

"What about Nathaniel?"

"As far as I can tell, yes. There were no death certificates issued for the aliases that I believe are connected to them. They were relatively ok and taken to the hospital. Medical records are sealed, and I don't know the French system enough to hack in that quickly. All I could get was a woman matching Emily's description and a young boy, both under fake names, though they didn't come up as fake. They were both injured. That's all I got."

They sighed. They wished there was more. They needed to know more, but now they just had to focus on finding them. They were alive, that much they knew, so they just had to search. At least this time they had a fake name to go with Emily and the kid.

JJ, still stunned, questioned, "Who was that?"

"Where did he come from?" Reid asked.

"That was Christiano Perini, a known associate of the Italian mafia family, the Scarlattis. Here's the kicker. I found connections between the Scarlattis to the Bardolino family."

Hotch rubbed his temples. What the fuck was this? How did Emily always find herself in crazy situations? "Can you track his movements?"

"To a point." Garcia messed around with the computer a little.

Garcia explained that the man was in a separate car following the other goon and Emily, but not as ambitious as the other driver, not at first anyway. After the crash, he can be seen making a call before checking on the other driver.

"He seemed composed until he got off the phone," Rossi concluded.

"Then he snapped," Derek added.

Clyde interrupted, trying to get everyone to refocus on Emily. "I will try to make a call to a contact in France to check on their conditions. Can you find out what happened after that?"

"Look up Elizabeth's movement first," Rossi said. "Emily was in an accident, her face is out there, and now she's vulnerable. Assuming that they were both ok, Emily would have tried to get out of there as quickly as possible, especially knowing that there were people after them."

"She'd want to get as far away as she could," Reid added.

Derek nodded. "To lay low."

"But if she was hurt, which it looked like she was, then her travel would be limited," JJ said.

"Right. And, for whatever reason, she didn't turn to us, Clyde, or anyone at Interpol, so who else could she turn to?"

"Her mother…" Clyde finished. "We knew she was hiding something, but we weren't sure what."

"Actually," Garcia interrupted, "I did find something that could tie Elizabeth to Emily."

"What's that?"

"She did receive a call from a burner in France. Well, her office did. It went to a switchboard."

"A switchboard? And you can track that to Elizabeth?"

"Well, no…" she sighed. "But right now, Elizabeth is between postings. She's in the US and the projects she's been helping on are mostly from the Middle East, so the call stood out to me. Is that wrong?"

"No," Hotch said. "A bit of a leap, but it's a start. Any other oddities?"

"Shortly after that, her personal phone records showed a call to a private pilot in the DC area."

"A pilot?" JJ asked. "You think she's going to Emily?"

"Only one way to find out. Is there a flight plan on record?" Rossi asked Garcia.

"That would be a negative, but I can tell you the name of the pilot and where he is."

"That's a lead. Send that information to Morgan and JJ. The two of you follow that up. See if he talked with Elizabeth and what they discussed," Hotch directed.

"I should say that I also found a recent escrow for a house in Virginia in James Hadley's name," Garcia added.

Hotch nodded. "Reid, why don't you and I take that. Rossi, you think you can handle Elizabeth alone?"

"No problem."

"Clyde you want to come?" Rossi asked.

He shook his head. "No. I think I'm best suited here. I have something that Miss Penelope can help me with."

"Something you're not telling us?" Derek asked.

"Just a thought brewing. If it pans out, I'll share."

They would have to accept that for the time being. So, leaving that, they all went about their assignments. Unfortunately, they wouldn't find the pilot and Hotch and Rossi wouldn't find Elizabeth at her place either. No, they would be at a loss there because, seemingly, it was like she vanished. She didn't, though. And finding her would be easier than finding Emily, and, hopefully, lead them right to their friend.

In France, however, Emily was working on getting anywhere but there. Paris had not been kind to her. Seemed to be a pattern as of late.

After the car wrecked and Emily was attacked, the next thing she knew, her eyes were opening to a blinding florescent light, her head was pounding, and she felt like she had been run over. That wasn't too far off from the truth. It took her a minute to realize where she was and remember what happened. Once she did, the panic set in. Her body jumped up, sitting in the bed, head searching wildly, pain shooting through her body. Nate. She needed to find Nate. He wasn't in her room, so she had to find him. Right now.

Ignoring what every part of her body was telling her, Emily moved and tried to get up.

"Shit," she screamed when she tried to take a first step, pain radiating through her leg.

"I wouldn't do that," a nurse said, her accent heavy. "You are American, yes?"

Emily stilled and responded, "Oui."

The woman smiled and told Emily that she needed to lie back. They were waiting for tests to come back, but Emily had a concussion and her leg was hurt in the accident.

"It wasn't an accident," Emily murmured, too quietly for the nurse to hear.

Communicating in French, Emily stopped the nurse before she could tell her any more. Emily didn't care how she was doing. She only cared about Nate, so she asked about him. "Where is Nate? Is he ok? The boy that was with me," she explained, in case the nurse wasn't aware of who she was talking about.

"Your son?" the nurse asked. Emily couldn't say no. He was her son, even if he didn't know that and to the rest of the world he wasn't. Point was, if she wanted information, she had to say yes, and she did.

Nodding, the woman explained that Nate was ok. He got away with a broken arm and some bumps and bruises. He had some pretty serious looking black and blues on his stomach from the seatbelt, but he was fine. He would heal. And Emily would too, but her injuries were a bit more extensive.

When the car hit them, the metal in her door crushed and slammed into her leg. They were waiting for test results before diagnosing the problem, but nothing was broken. At least there's that, she thought to herself. But, really, she didn't care. She could take care of it, but they needed out. And, before that, she just needed to see Nate.

"Can you take me to Nate?"

"I will bring your son to you. He has been asking about you."

That still brought a smile to Emily's face. Not just the "son" part, but that he liked her and wanted her… Or he just wanted someone familiar who spoke the same language as him… She was going to stick with the former. She wanted Nate to want her. That was what she always wanted. Not the point at the moment though.

Once she saw that he was ok, she knew they needed to get out of there. Whatever was wrong with her didn't matter if the goons showed up and took Nate. However, since it didn't seem like she could just walk out of there, mostly because she literally couldn't walk, then she'd have to think of something.

While she thought of that, she simply thanked the nurse and impatiently waited for Nate to come.

"Emily," he yelled out and ran to her as soon as he saw her, his stuffed dog beaten and cut from the accident, still tight in his arms.

She didn't even care that it hurt when he pounced. All that mattered was that he was there, in her arms. "Oh Nate. I'm so happy to see you."

"Are you ok?" His big eyes were watery and worried. "I was scared."

"I'm ok. What about you? How are you feeling?"

"Look." He held out his left arm. "I got a cool cast. And it's green."

"I see that. A broken arm, huh? Does it hurt?"

"Nope. But I think Patch needs a cast, too."

"We'll work on that. I'm glad you're feeling ok," Emily said to him, hugging him and ignoring the nurse who was telling her she needed to relax. She would, but she needed more about Nate first. She could see he was a little on edge, but he was ok.

Letting Nate go, she asked the nurse more about Nate's injuries. Was he on any medication? Yes, a slight pain reliever to take the edge off. He might be sore for a few days, but, otherwise, would be fine. That made her happy, but her next question wouldn't yield an answer quite as satisfying.

"When can we get out of here?"

The nurse informed her that, not only did she need to be monitored and the scan results need to come back, but police wanted to talk with her. That was a big no-no. At that point, she was weary of everyone, including the police. She couldn't even begin to guess how many crooked cops there were out there and involved in the whole Bardolino mess.

She told Ariane, as the nurse told Emily to call her, that she didn't wish to speak with the police yet, and Ariane didn't fight her on it. The police could wait, she said, until Emily had seen the doctor and was feeling a little better, or, in Emily's own opinion, never. She didn't plan to stick around long enough to talk with them. What happened was bad enough, now she needed to get them out and… somewhere; location to be determined. Unfortunately, she couldn't walk, so the escape plan had to at least wait until she knew what was wrong with her leg or she found some crutches. As soon as that happened, she and Nate were out of there.

"Ariane. Will the doctor be in soon?"

"Yes," she promised. "On his way with results."

Emily nodded and the nurse left. Immediately, Emily asked Nate if he was really ok. Even though he said yes, he seemed pensive. He was just in a scary accident and witnessed her get… attacked? That's what happened, right? She was trying not to think about it. What happened then didn't matter as much as what happened next, and the first step of that was making sure Nate was doing alright emotionally, not just physically, and ok to keep going.

"That was scary," he told her. "The car was following us, wasn't it?"

She bit her lip before answering, "Yes." And he did a piss poor job if a child caught on to that. "But I don't want you to worry about it. It's over."

"I don't like hospitals," Nate told her.

"Me neither. Don't worry. We'll get out of here as soon as we can."

Though, the logistics of that were still swirling in her mind. Their car was trash, all their stuff was in there, and the original safe house was likely compromised. Time to make plan b… or, more accurately, probably plan d.

"Emily?" Nate tried to get her attention as her thoughts formulated a plan. "It wasn't an accident, was it?"

"No Nate. No, it wasn't. But like I said, you don't need to worry about that. We can talk about it more later if you wish, but we're both ok and I'm going to get us somewhere safe."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. Everything will be fine."

"Even you?"

"Yes. My head got a little bump and my leg is a little hurt, but I'll be just fine too."

"Ok," Nate said, choosing to believe her, though he could feel a touch of tension as well. "So we can go?"

"Very soon. The doctor is coming to talk with me and then we'll go."

"Good because nobody talks the way I do, so I can't understand anything."

Emily laughed and patted his shoulder. He always managed to make her smile. Emily talked with him about nothing in particular, just little things to distract him and herself. Her body was hurting, and, because of the concussion, they couldn't give her any pain relief, so she was using the talk to help herself as much as him.

Their chatting was disrupted when the doctor came in. She specifically made sure they spoke in French so that Nate couldn't hear if there was any bad news. Though, the only person it was truly bad news for was her. Her ACL was torn. Her whole leg would remain in a brace and she would need corrective surgery. She'd be on crutches for a while and the recovery time was not short in the least, a six-month minimum usually. When he started getting into a surgery plan and telling her that the accident caused bruising and swelling that would mean they had to wait, she put a rapid end to the conversation.

"No. No surgery," she told him. "We just want to get out of here. I'll speak with my primary physician when I return home."

The doctor tried to argue, but he had no chance of winning. He explained to her the basics, telling her what to expect and fastening the brace securely around her left leg. As soon as he left, Emily turned to Nate. "Do you have everything you came here with?"

He nodded. "You and Patch."

"And you're sure you're feeling alright? No pain?"

"My arm hurts a little, but not too much. And if I push it, my tummy aches."

"And if I said you needed to run, do you think you could or would it hurt too much?"

"I can run. I'm a good runner."

"I bet you are. Alright. Why don't you try to use the bathroom? We're going to be leaving soon."

He looked at her curiously. "Is that what the doctor said? That we can leave?"

"Yes. They're going to get me some crutches so that I can walk better."

"Is it broken?" he asked, pointing to the leg.

"No. Just hurt. I'm fine, I told you. Now go on. Try to use the bathroom while I get dressed."

She was, unfortunately, changed into a hospital gown before the scans and now had to struggle to even dress herself. Worse, the clothes she had were ripped and covered in blood from the accident. "Damn it," she hissed when she pulled the clothes out of the bag. No way could she wear that and it wasn't like she could walk out of there in nothing but a thin cloth sheet that didn't cover her ass. She didn't even want to stand up with Nate in the room, never mind walk around in public like some escaped mental patient. There was underwear, at least, but that didn't help much.

She'd have to figure something out and quickly. They needed to get out of there. The brace on, she thought she should try walking. The doctor mentioned that walking on it could cause more damage, but if it was that or death, she'd have to deal with worsening the issue. It was a risk she'd have to take.

"Think," she commanded herself. She needed to think logically. They needed out of there and they needed to look normal as they left. Nate's clothes were undamaged. So at least there was that. But for her… There was no saving the clothes, so she'd just have to get new ones. They were in a hospital… Hospitals kept things like sweatpants and shirts around for victims. She'd just have to find that. First, however, she needed to get off the bed and walk.

The first few steps required a lot of deep breathing and lip biting to get through the pain, but she was doing it. She was walking. That was what mattered. Mind over matter. Telling herself that over and over had to do the trick. She adjusted and ignored the pain, knowing that was the only option. She wasn't about to stick around long enough for the doctor to find it safe to give her medicine nor was she about to rob the pharmacy, so she had to accept it and move on.

Emily managed, with the aid of every object in the room to help bare some of her weight as she moved, to make it to the door and peek around. The hall wasn't empty, but it wasn't crazy busy, and that would work in their favor. It would offer them an escape window; enough action around to provide distraction, but not so crowded that they'd be easily spotted. That was their way out. The exit would be right around that area.

When Nate came back, Emily was still at the door, her hand behind her back making sure she didn't give him a biology lesson on the female form. That was the last thing they needed to delay their getaway and the last thing Emily wanted to deal with in that moment.

"Emily. You're walking."

"I am. We're almost ready to go. I just have to… Go see the nurse to get some clothes. Stay right here, alright?"

"Ok," he agreed, not really knowing what was going on.

Hesitant to leave him there alone, Emily hung at the door a moment too long and promised him that she'd be right back. She had to rush, but it was a little hard to maneuver herself around. Who knew knee bending was so imperative to walking fast? Stumbling, sore, and still a bit disoriented, Emily wandered the halls in search of a supply or linen closet of some kind and trying to remember the path she took to get there. One was going better than the other.

Finally, three corridors, a lot of against the wall walking, and a whole slew of expletives in a string of different languages later, she found something that might be of use. A lounge area and locker room. Surely someone on staff had to carry around a set of clothes around her size. She peeked into the room to see if anyone was there, and, when she saw no one, made her way in. She had to be quick. Looking around, she saw there were a couple lockers opened. That would be easier than picking locks, so she went there first.

The first locker was a no go. The clothes in there would probably fit to some degree. The jeans were just a size smaller than she wore and she probably would have been able to squeeze into them… had it not been for the very constricting and somewhat bulky brace on her leg. The shirt was a possibility but looked a little short. She didn't have the time or capacity to deal with this locker. Those clothes seemed like too much effort to escape in and not very practical.

But neither was the next locker… Gym clothes for a man. She sighed. Why was this so hard? Of course, those clothes would work. She'd be able to slip the sweatpants over the brace and the shirt was long enough to cover all of her, but how conspicuous would that look? No, that one probably wouldn't do either.

Finally, a few more lockers in, she found an outfit that, while not completely practical, provided her best option. A dress. It was too fancy for a hospital, but at least not floor length. "And my size," she said, hiding as she heard a couple voices in the hall. She stayed stock still, leaning against the other lockers, holding her breath as they walked in. Getting caught wouldn't get her arrested, but it sure would put a damper on things and waste precious time.

She waited, eyes tightly shut as if believing that if she couldn't see them, they couldn't see her. Emily listened to their idle talk. They were talking dinner plans and dates. She didn't have time to listen. "Hurry up," she silently willed them. And, as if they were listening, they quickly locked up their lockers and left.

Letting out the breath she was holding, she snatched the dress back out of the locker and began to dress. Slipping that on was much more convenient than pants, she thought. "And at least it would take some effort for someone to see my butt."

Whatever. Emily was just relieved to be back in real clothes. Crutches or no crutches, it was time for her to get back to Nate and get the hell out of dodge. Finding her way back to the room wasn't so hard. Her leg was aching, and her head wasn't clear, but she remembered most of the way.

Reaching the room, Emily went right to the bed to sit for a second. She was pushing herself and she knew it was only going to get worse. Nate was sitting in the chair with Patch. One deep breath, she asked Nate, "Ready to go?"

He nodded.

"Nothing is in your room?"

"Nope."

"Alright."

She looked out the door to see who was around and noticed a few suspicious characters. Not wanting to take any chances, she quickly pulled her head back behind the door so she couldn't be seen, grabbing Nate back with her.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," she lied. "Forgot my purse." That wasn't a lie. The emergency crew must've grabbed it out of the car when they took them to the hospital. She was thankful to at least have that. There was some money, a burner, and one of the fake IDs and passports for both of them. That would come in handy.

She put the purse up on her shoulder and walked back to the door with Nate. If the guys were still there, she didn't see them, so it was time to move.

"Hold my hand and don't let go," she made him promise.

Nate gripped her hand and squeezed, nodding and following as she led the way. Emily kept him close to her. They moved slowly, but efficiently. She tried to go faster, but it just wouldn't work. Her body wouldn't allow it. It appeared that her earlier trek took its toll. Now it was just getting worse.

"Where are we going?" Nate asked.

Her response was a whisper that they were going someplace safe. She neglected to add that she wasn't sure where that was. The immediate goal was just to get out of the hospital. What happened after that was on the fly. Emily pulled him closer and held on tight, trying to get through the halls without being acknowledged. The more they blended in, the better.

Just as she let out some of the tension in her shoulders, inches from the automatic doors, she spotted one of the men from earlier, their eyes meeting. She reacted instantly. He did too, turning to his partner and pointing. Emily, however, was far enough away from them to push Nate out the door and rush toward a waiting taxi telling the driver, "I'll pay double if you go and go fast."

The man behind the wheel nodded and sped off. She struggled to get in and was uncomfortable once she was, but she was able to breathe again once they drove off, the men and the hospital fading in the distance. Still, it was disconcerting to know that they were being closed in on. Each step, someone was right behind them. She had to question how. Someone had to know her playbook and the Bardolino family didn't know her. Someone was helping them.

Her thoughts were disturbed by the driver asking her where to take her. The only place that came to mind was this old, abandoned church that she remembered from her last trip. She wandered upon it during a late night stroll the last year. It was worth a shot. Emily gave him a street name near that area and then returned her attention to Nate.

She didn't want him to be scared, but she could tell that he was. He may not have known what happened to his fathers back in England, but there was no hiding what was happening there in France. The only thing she could offer was comfort, support, and a few lies that would keep them going. That had to be enough.

"Everything's ok, Nate," Emily assured him.

He looked at her, smiled, and responded, "I know."

"Good. We're going somewhere safe and then we'll relax for a while."

"Will I be able to talk to my dads?"

She didn't want to tell him no, but it wasn't like she could say yes. "I'm afraid not. I'll explain more later."

Nate sighed and slumped into the cab's seat. He missed his dads. He missed the last few weeks with all four of them in the tiny apartment spending a lot of time together. He liked getting to know Emily, but he wanted his dads around too. Why couldn't he have both?

He kept thinking about that until Emily told him they were there. She passed the driver money and asked Nate to help her out. Nate, being the kind kid he was, didn't think twice about it. He got out his side and ran over to hers, opening the door and offering her a hand.

"Thank you," she said.

They were only a few streets over from the church and she hoped that it was still there. Emily didn't know how much more her leg could take and she swore that she'd pass out if she didn't get to sit down for a while. She rushed them, guiding Nate to their destination. She was happy to see the church still there. It was damaged by a fire, one side charred and hurting, but it was a safe place and, having been inside before, she knew there were several rooms that would provide them necessary shelter where no one would think to look.

"This is where we're staying?" Nate dubiously asked.

"Just for tonight," she promised. The sky was already darkening. They just needed a night hidden there to recoup and plan the next move.

Once she got them in and settled, Emily tried to talk with Nate like nothing was going on, trying to keep him from thinking about things. It quickly became apparent that boredom couldn't be avoided. Still before she went to get food and basic supplies, Emily needed to have a chat with Nate.

"Nate, I know this isn't quite the adventure you had in mind, but I promise you that this is only temporary."

"What's wrong, Emily? Why do we have to be here?"

"The accident…"

"They were following us, right? It wasn't an accident. And then the guy hurt you."

"You're too smart, Nate. Yes. That's true. There are very bad men trying to find you," she told him honestly.

"Why? Why would someone want me?"

She questioned how to phrase things delicately and without saying anything negative about Vince. "Your father, Vince, is related to these people. He decided a long time ago that, family or not, he didn't want to be involved with all the bad things that they were doing, and so he left. Vince met your father and they had you. You became a family, but Vince's family didn't like that he left. They've been looking for him because they need someone to take over the business."

"But Dad has a job."

"He does. Turned out that they wanted you and not your father."

"Why? I'm not old enough to have a business."

"Not yet. But they wanted to take you so that you can go live with them and they could teach you everything so that, one day, you can be the big shot."

Sadly, he said, "I don't want that."

"And no one wants that for you. I don't want to lie to you Nate. We're in a lot of trouble. These men are very dangerous, and now they're here, but I'm going to do everything to protect you. You believe that."

"I believe you, Emily."

"Good," she said and took a piece of paper out of her purse, writing something on it and handing it to him. "Memorize this telephone number, ok?"

"Whose is it?"

"It's a friend's. Nate, I need you to promise me something."

Innocently, he asked, "What?"

"If I tell you to run, ever, I need you to run as fast and as far as you can, go somewhere, anywhere you can hide, find a phone, and call that number."

"What about you?"

"Don't worry about me, ok? Whatever happens, if I say go, you go whether I go with you or not. Promise me."

Even just a child, he could see that she was worried and doing what she could for him. "I promise."

"Good. Memorize the number. Don't forget it."

He nodded and looked to the number in his hands. "Emily," he began. "If the bad men are after me and you, what about my dads? Are they ok?"

"I don't know, Nate… I wish I had an answer for you. I want to tell you that they're just fine, but I don't know."

"They're not safe?"

"I'm not sure what happened," she answered, "But I made a promise to take you and keep you safe, and I'm going to do everything to keep that promise."

"Something happened?"

"A lot of things happened," she said.

"Are they dead?" His worried eyes begged her to tell him no, and, more than anything, she wanted to give him that, but she knew she couldn't.

All she could offer was, "I don't know, Nate… I just don't know…"