A/N: And here's chapter 2. Hope you all are having a Merry Christmas!

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds.

Chapter 2:

"Penelope," Emily murmured. Her mouth was so dry all of the sudden, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth. Her initial try didn't seem to get anyone's attention, so she tried again, this time taking a few swallows to relieve her mouth of its dryness. "Garcia?" This time it came out louder.

The normally bubbly blonde paused her sobs, only to let out a single hiccup. Garcia peered at her from behind splotchy spectacles, looking as if she didn't recognize her. Emily didn't blame her, the glasses were pretty fogged up.

"Emily?" she said unsurely, just before the technical analyst launched herself out of her chair and straight into Emily's arms.

She caught her with an "oof", hugging her tight. Though the circumstances were clearly not good, Emily had missed her friends terribly. Six months was way too long to go without being in their presence; phone calls and skyping just wasn't the same either.

Garcia began to quietly cry into her shoulder, holding her fiercely. She tried to soothe the woman, rubbing circles into her back, as she faced the rest of her friends. Emily looked to each one.

Rossi, who watched her with such relief in his eyes; she wondered what he thought she could do to help a situation she didn't fully understand. Did he think she could make everything better?

Reid, after spying her initially, refused to meet her eyes. Nonetheless, Emily could see that tears openly slid down his cheeks. Morgan was his closest, his best friend. She knew he was blaming himself for this predicament; it was what Reid did when things got bad. He always put the blame on himself, even when he was completely faultless.

When her eyes landed on Hotch, he gave her a simple nod in acknowledgement, but it was his eyes that told her he was glad she was here.

JJ was slower to acknowledge her presence, cocooned as she was in Hotch's embrace. She pulled back slightly from the Unit Chief. Emily was observant enough to notice how Hotch's arm lingered around the petite blonde's waist. There was a story there, but this wasn't the time or place to hear it. So, she stored the revelation for later.

The mother of one sniffled once, twice before speaking up. "It's my fault, Emily," she said mournfully before she, too, rushed over for a hug.

Emily embraced both sobbing blondes as best as possible, all the while wondering what exactly was going on. She held them both, as she looked to any one of the three men for an explanation. Or at the very least, a clarification to what JJ said. How could she be responsible for… whatever this was? Especially when JJ, herself, looked like she could use a hospital bed of her own.

Eyes once again meeting her former boss's, Hotch shook his head at her silent question. It wasn't her fault, he was saying. So, why did she think it was?

This was all too much. Emily needed answers and fast. Her late night phone call from Garcia hadn't provided her with much detail. All she'd said was that Derek had been hurt and that she needed to get over there ASAP.

Still, even if Garcia had provided her with more information, Emily wasn't sure that she'd have been able to hear it. The minute the words were out of her mouth—"Emily? Oh God! You… you need to come home. Quick! Derek's been hurt!"—she had zoned out. All she could think about at that moment was what if she lost him? What if she never got the chance to tell him how she really felt?

So, pretty much on automatic, she'd grabbed her suitcase and packed. Emily couldn't even remember how she'd booked her ticket. She'd just done it. No hesitation. She needed to come home to Derek.

Overwhelmed by the sadness, literally, enveloping her, Emily guided the former media liaison back to Hotch. He gladly took her back into his arms. She led Garcia into a chair next to the young genius. Reid didn't look up, but Emily was pleased to see him take hold of Garcia's hand.

And then she turned her attention on the lone figure in the room, hoping for some answers.

Rossi stood up and embraced her tightly. She sunk into it; taking comfort instead of giving it. "Welcome back," he said in a tone so sad it put tears in her eyes.

For the first time, since arriving in the waiting room, she felt that wave of panic from earlier threaten to overwhelm her, only Rossi's arms kept the horrid emotion at bay.

After a few moments of just accepting his comfort, she spoke into his shoulder, "What happened?"

Emily could feel Rossi's chest fill as he took a deep breath. He was readying himself to tell her something awful. She just knew it.

"Oh!" a new voice exclaimed.

Thinking it was a nurse or a doctor who'd arrived to give them an update, Emily pulled out of Rossi's embrace to give the newcomer her full attention. Instead it was a woman dressed in plain clothes, not scrubs or a white coat, holding two trays of foam coffee cups, stacked on top of each other.

The woman was a brunette, slightly lighter than Emily's own dark hair, and shorter than hers too. She was also a number of years younger than her. This, she concluded, must have been the new agent she'd been hearing about. The one who'd replaced Alex when she'd left to teach. Kate Callahan, she thought. Now that she saw her, Emily realized she'd caught a few glimpses of her in the background when Derek had skyped her on the BAU's slow days.

Emily stared at her openly, not knowing where else to look just then. Kate approached her.

"Hi," the new team-member greeted; her voice was light, young-sounding. "I'm Kate Callahan."

The woman stuck out a hand, the coffee doing a precarious dance in her grasp. Emily shook her it quickly. "Emily Prentiss," she returned.

Kate gave her as warm a smile as she could muster, given the circumstances. "I know. I've heard so much about you." Her smile turned into a frown instantaneously. "I wish we could have met under better circumstances."

She wholly concurred. Sighing, she turned, so she was addressing everyone. "Will someone please tell me what these circumstances are?"

It was Rossi who stepped up to the plate. He put a hand to the small of her back and said, "Come on, Emily, let's find a quiet place to talk…"

He accepted a coffee cup from Kate, who also handed her one and began to guide them out of the waiting room.

Why couldn't he just say it here?

They found a quiet little alcove nearby, set back from the hustle and bustle of the busy hospital. There was a small window that overlooked the hectic streets of D.C. They stood to either side of it and Emily took a moment to stare out at the dingy looking landscape.

It hadn't snowed for a couple of weeks now and any snow that remained was on the dirty side, making for a dreary looking setting. Regardless of its current un-prettiness, it was still a sight so lovely to Emily. It was home.

Dave leaned forward against the windowsill, languidly taking a sip of his coffee, like he had all the time in the world to sip at the medium sized cup. As if he didn't realize that with every second that went by of not knowing what was going on, Emily was dying a little on the inside.

"So," he finally spoke up. Emily let out the breath she'd been holding. Finally! "How are things in London? Does it look like it's going to be a white Christmas?"

Her mouth dropped open. What?

He looked at her expectantly.

It took her a minute to form a response. "No."

Even she was surprised by how hard the one word sounded coming from her lips.

"No, it's not going to be a white Christmas?" Dave asked, looking more unsure than she'd ever seen him.

"No," she repeated, shaking her head. "I will not do the small talk thing. Not right now. Not with Derek God knows where, Dave! I want to know all about what's been happening since the last time I visited. But right now I need to know what's happened to Morgan!"

It wasn't until she finished her rant that she figured out she'd been yelling. It was so quiet all of the sudden. And to make matters worse, Rossi stared at her with wide, hurt eyes.

Emily looked down at the floor between them contritely. "Sorry," she murmured. She was just so frustrated.

"No, no, you're right. I just wanted—" he stopped abruptly.

And, all of the sudden, she realized that maybe he hadn't been stalling. Maybe he'd been looking for one normal moment in all the chaos. After all, she'd just arrived, but Dave, and all of her friends were here all along.

"London is London," she attempted to answer. "And no, there isn't a snowfall in the forecast, just dreary drizzle. Same old, same old."

He gave her a small, grateful smile, which lasted a mere second before his features turned forlorn all over again. It was back to business.

"So?" she prompted.

"Short story," he began, sighing. "We cornered an un-sub unexpectedly. Actually, JJ did."

"JJ?" That explained the former media liaison's battered state.

"Nasty guy. Had a real hatred for women. And big, too. The guy got the best of JJ. Beat on her pretty bad. She's got a broken rib and a few fractured ones, not to mention a nasty gash to her side."

"Oh… God," she murmured. It was moment's like this that the guilt she felt for leaving the team re-emerged. If she'd stayed, maybe she could have helped. Maybe she could have prevented it or, at least, stopped it from escalating. Maybe…

He squeezed her arm. "What ifs won't get you anywhere, Emily." He'd read her mind.

She nodded, she knew. It didn't stop her from thinking them, though.

"Derek got to JJ first. It's killing Hotch that she was in that situation in the first place. But it wasn't his fault. The home had been cleared. We had no idea the bastard had a secret room. Still, Hotch won't let her out of his sight."

So, Emily had clearly missed something important in the past six months. And, oh, how she wanted to know all about it. That would come later, though.

"Derek?" she urged.

"From what JJ told us, he tackled the un-sub off of her just in time. They fought, the un-sub got in a few nasty blows to Morgan's head. And then, JJ had a clear shot and she took it."

"The un-sub's dead?" For some reason she did not expect that.

"Yes."

"Ok… but what about Derek?" she asked, confused. If JJ had gotten the un-sub, why were they all in the hospital? And what was wrong with Derek?

"We thought…" Dave continued. "He got up after the fight. He seemed fine on the way back to Quantico. And then… he collapsed."

"Collapsed?"

"Passed out. But we couldn't get him to wake up. We called 911. He was rushed in for tests when we told the ER doctor's what happened. They diagnosed him with an epidural hematoma."

"An epi—what? What's that?"

"As far as I can tell, it's bleeding of the brain. The build-up of blood puts pressure on the brain and skull. It's what caused Morgan to pass out initially."

She shook her head in disbelief. "What… what can they do for him? They've got to be able to help him!"

"They're trying. Morgan's in surgery now. They need to remove the blood. It will relieve the pressure…"

"And after?" Emily needed to hear that he was going to be ok. There was no other possible, viable outcome. There couldn't be. Derek just had to recover.

"They didn't say." He shrugged his shoulders resignedly, an out of character gesture for him.

"Oh."

He put an arm around her shoulders. "So, now you know as much as we do. Let's head back and see if the doctor's been in."

"All… all right."

That's it for this chapter. More angst, I know. But happy times to come, I promise (maybe not in the next chapter… lol. But soon).

Thanks to everyone who's reading. And big thanks to those who reviewed: RatherBeAWriter (I'm glad you're enjoying. Merry Christmas!); Guest #1 (you're so right! I googled it before I posted it and I got 3 hours. But then when you mentioned it, I checked again. I must have typed in the wrong places.); Guest#2; Frenzy cmfan; jhplug; and Guest #3.

Merry Christmas everyone! Hope you're all having a safe and happy holiday!

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