Two Minds & All the Places They Have Been

Chapter Four / Running


Derek Morgan was, to say the least, exhausted.

Never mind working on a case for the past twenty-four hours, but he's been in this hospital chair for at least another seven or so. He had been waking up and falling back asleep again. Prentiss, however, had been peacefully asleep on the couch in the waiting room for a few hours. Derek looked at her with furious envy, his eyes drooping and focus blurring for a minute.

When he saw Spencer walk it, he stood straight up. The kid looked completely worn out as well; his hair was messier than ever, his eyelids drooped and darkened, his posture was slouched. But he looked somewhat positive, so Derek focused on that.

"She woke up, but only for a few minutes. She's going to be fine, I think. You and Prentiss can go get a hotel room and get some sleep. I'm going to stay here for a little while longer," Spencer told him, hands in his pockets. He had glanced at Emily with a small amused smile on his face as a snore came from the couch.

While a quiet, dark bed to sleep for hours in sounded completely amazing, Derek didn't move. Instead, he studied Spencer, and made his voice firm. "You need to sleep too, pretty boy. You've been up as much as the rest of us. You'll be no good to her completely exhausted."

After a quiet moment of speculation and a quick glance down the hall where Zyla rested, Spencer nodded. With the both of them there, they managed to get Emily up, and pleasantly, she was only a little cranky. When they stepped outside, it surprised them to know it was already dawn. The sun started to rise in the East, and as the city began to wake, the team began to sleep, pretty much falling unconscious the moment they stepped into their rooms.

Emily didn't even make it to the bed.


When Emily woke up several hours later, the first thing she became aware of was that she was not, in fact, on the bed. She had pulled the blankets, pillows, and sheets off the bed and slept on the floor, which she didn't quite understand because if the blankets and stuff was already on there, why had she pulled them to the floor? What was so appealing about the floor compared to the bed?

The second thing she realized was the ringing of her phone across the room on top of the desk. Groaning, she pulled herself over to the desk, not bothering to get off the floor. Sleep flooded her eyelids, making it hard to see, and she answered it with as much professionalism as she could muster.

"Prentiss." she murmured, her head resting against the desk leg. "Emily?" Hotch's somewhat amused voice came from the other end. "Did I wake you?"

Just as she started to yawn, she said, "Not at all, sir." Hotch chuckled. "I was just calling to check in," he hesitated slightly before continuing. "How's Reid doing?"

Rubbing her eyes and starting to wake up, Emily sat up, trying to find a clock to see what time it was. The alarm clock next to the table said it was a little past eleven in the morning. "Fine, I think," she replied. "Morgan and I were in the waiting room most of the time, and he was in the room with Zyla. He was exhausted, but I'm sure he's there now. Morgan convinced him to get a few hours of sleep."

"Good," Hotch said. "How are her conditions?"

"Reid said that she woke up a few minutes last night, and the doctors said that she should make a fast recovery," Emily paused, smiling a little when thinking of Spencer gently holding her hand and kissing her forehead. He really loved her, and it was nice to see. That kid never has had the best luck in the world. "That's good. So you think you guys will be back soon?" Hotch said. Emily nodded, and said, "Yeah, probably. I assume that Reid is going to stay here with her a little longer. She has no other family."

"Okay. Get a good night's sleep, all of you, and call me with any updates." Hotch then hung up, and right after there were continuous knocks on the door. Groaning again, she drug herself to her feet and shuffled to the door, looking through the peephole. Morgan stood, and he knocked again. Emily scowled, and opened the door. Derek still looked exhausted, but he had a cup of coffee in his right hand, and he looked amused at Emily's disheveled appearance.

"Well good morning gorgeous," he said with a smile, leaning against the doorframe. Emily scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Reid's already at the hospital. When you get ready and, uh… do something with that," he gestured with his finger at her hair. "We can go."

"Okay, three things: one, Hotch called to check in. Two, I will be ready in a minute. And three, the most important, is that you are an ass Derek Morgan." She then closed the door on his grinning face, ignoring his laughter.


Zyla was awake again in the afternoon, and when she woke she saw Spencer once again sitting in the chair next to her. She frowned, groggy.

"Did you get any sleep?" she asked, her voice scratchy and hoarse. Spencer looked up from his notepad, where he was doodling absentmindedly, and smiled at her. "Yes. It's been almost seven hours since you woke up last. They should be bringing in some food any minute, I ordered some a little while ago for you whenever you woke up." He covered her hand with his, his thumb stroking her hand. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got ran over with a truck, twice. I am starving though," she bit her lip, and turned her hand over to tie their fingers together. "I missed you," she murmured. He smiled again, glancing down in an almost bashful way before looking back up at her. "I missed you too Zy."

Zyla's eyes became a little wet, but she quickly blinked any wetness away, and was thankfully distracted by the door of her hospital room opening, two people come through.

"Reid, are you-" the dark haired woman stopped, noticing that Zyla was awake. The man stood in the doorway, watching her as well. Spencer stood, letting go of Zyla's hand in the process. "Uh, Morgan, Prentiss, this is Zyla. Zy, this is Derek Morgan and Emily Prentiss. They work with me."

Emily, the woman, smiled at her, walking over to her her shake. Zyla took it but kept a loose grip. Her muscles felt tired. "I'm Emily. Reid's told us a lot about you."

Zyla felt a stab of fear go through her, but quickly demolished it. She smiled back at Emily, and then at Derek, who had come into the room fully, standing near Spencer with his hands in his pockets. "Right." was all she could think to say to Emily's comment.

"Spence, we, uh, just wanted to know if you had eaten yet. Morgan and I were going to go down to the cafeteria. Also, Hotch called to check in." Emily said. Spencer nodded, and opened his mouth to speak before the door opened again and a nurse with a plate of food came in, followed by a doctor holding a clipboard. Spencer stayed, waiting to hear from the doctor.

"Good morning, Miss Moriarty. Or should I say afternoon," Doctor Barrows chuckled. Zyla just smiled at him. He let out a breath of air as he started to go through her clipboard, and the nurse was readying her food. "So yesterday, you came in late at night with a tear on the lining of your stomach from a .38 caliber. It was a graze, the bullet didn't go in you. Says that you were found on an abandoned lot, and that you were there for about fifteen minutes before the ambulance arrived, and as soon as you arrived at the hospital you were taking into the OR to repair the lining of your stomach. The procedure was obviously successful, but it was touch-and-go for a while. You lost a lot of blood, almost two liters," the doctor 'tut tut tut'ed under his breath before continuing, looking up at her from the clipboard.

"The police has all of your belongings as evidence, and your car was impounded. I will call them to let them know that you're awake. They have some questions to ask you, if that's alright." Barrows concluded, looking at her for an answer. Zyla gave him a pressed smile. "Yes, of course." she answered. The doctor grinned. "Well alrighty then. Enjoy your lunch, and call a nurse if you need anything or are in any pain. Darren will give you your medicine, and check to make sure your machines are working." The nurse gave her a nod and a smile when he was mentioned, and began doing just that after the doctor left.

Emily and Derek went to the cafeteria to get food for them, while Zyla picked at her meal, her mind whirring. She couldn't talk to the police. She couldn't stay here. And she couldn't tell Spencer. Her heart wrenched. She had just gotten him back, and she was running away. Again.


A couple days had passed since Zyla had been brought into the hospital. Emily and Derek, who turned out to be pretty cool, had left the day before, but Spencer was still here. Zyla ended up having to talk to the police, but she chose her words very delicately and left out most of the story without anyone noticing.

She still felt like crap, but she was healing. She was able to walk now on her own, but just for a little bit and she was very slow. She still took lots of pain medications, which she'd have to steal before she left. Her heart dropped every time she thought about it, but she knew she had to go. It was the only thing to do that would keep Spencer safe.

Zyla had everything planned out, and was hoping with everything she had that her plan would go smoothly. After Spencer left to go sleep at the hotel, and after her check-in with her doctors, she would go through the nurses' station to get the medication she needed, and then leave to go to the evidence boxes at the police station to get the rest of her stuff. Then she'd hotwire a car, and be on her way.

Okay, yes, it sounded quite unrealistic, especially in her condition. But she's done this kind of thing enough to know what to do when. And this time, she couldn't worry about how quick she needs to be; she needs to be slow and steady. It wins the race, after all.

A few hours later, Spencer was gone and the doctors had checked in. She waited an extra twenty minutes just to be safe. She was so glad she asked for extra medications tonight (according to the doctors, her head and stomach were hurting way more than usual), because she will be doing a lot of moving around.

Zyla moved quietly out of her room, a couple dollars in her hand like she was getting a drink from the vending machine. Down the hall, she sneaked into one of the supply closets, and dressed in blue scrubs, putting her hair up in a ponytail and putting a mask over her face. She threw the hospital gown away, and went back outside.

Another nurse was coming down the hall, and Zyla bumped into her, inconspicuously grabbing the badge that was hooked onto the bottom of her shirt. "Sorry," she called to her as she rushed down the hall, slowing when she turned the corner, and wincing at the searing pain in her stomach. She took a deep breath through her nose, trying to squash down the pain. From her scouting for it earlier that day, she found the nurses' center down the hall and to the left. She scanned the stolen badge for the medicine cabinets and got all the medicines she needed, stuffing them into the blue bag that she had found and emptied out. Quickly, she closed the cabinets and locked them, placing the badge on the table so when the nurse came looking for it, she would hopefully think she forget it there.

She got the medicine, but made a quick detour into the nurses' changing rooms to grab some clothes and stuff them into the bag as well, and then she decided to take the cash out of their wallets too. They're going to be doctors, they won't need it. She then raced out the hospital into the parking lot, and caught a bus.

The bus was smelly and mostly empty, and she told the bus driver where to go, dropping some change into the slot before sitting down, feeling exhausted. Her muscles felt like jelly, and her stomach felt like it was being split open, again. She ripped off the mask from her face and shoved it into the bag. Sighing, she leaned down into her chair, staring out the window. She almost fell asleep before the bus driver announced that it was her stop. Zyla thanked him, and started walking down the street where the police station was.

Walking in was easy; it was a busy place, even at this time of night. She hoped she wouldn't run into the cops that had questioned her the day before; that would throw everything off. She wandered into the back where the evidence boxes were, and saw that there was one man on duty. 25 or 26 years old. Not married, might have a girlfriend. Nope, never mind, might have a boyfriend, by the looks of his hair. Damn, can't charm him then. New tactic. Even while she went through this through her head, Zyla smiled at the cop on duty, and he straightened when he saw her.

"Can I help you miss?" he asked, looping his thumbs through the belt loops on his pants. She gave him a warm smile. "Yes, I'm here to pick up some items from a Marilyn Moriarty. Doctor Barrows called in earlier to request that our patient receives them, it would help her mental state recover. She's been through a trauma." her voice was professional, but it had some sympathy in it as she said the last sentence.

The officer, Lenance, looked confused, as she suspected. "Uh, I don't believe we ever got a call from a Doctor Barrows. Let me-" Zyla let out a sharp breath like she was extremely annoyed, and closed her eyes for a couple seconds before opening them. "This is the third time this has happened with this police force. It's just plain ridiculous, and unprofessional," her tone was harsh, and she pointed a finger at him. "I will complain all of you to the Chief, and I will make sure that you are prohibited from doing-"

Lenance looked panicked, and some color was lost in his face. "Excuse me, miss, I am extremely sorry for this. We will make sure that we do better next time, I promise you myself. We have everything we need on this case anyway, and the items belong to her. Let me go get the box for you, and you can be on your way." Zyla huffed, but nodded, and the officer scurried to find it. After he left, she couldn't help but smile just a little bit. Some people were so easy to manipulate.

Within a few minutes, Lenance came back with the box, and Zyla went through it, making sure everything was there. She left all the weapons and whatnot in there; that would look suspicious. She put her things in her bag, thanked the officer, and headed out of the station, her heart pounding.

She walked down the street for a little while before finding a nice car she could hijack. She replaced the plates, and, using an old hanger she dug out from the dumpster beside the building the parking lot belonged to, she unlocked the driver's door and climbed in. She hot-wired the car to start, and it came to life. Zyla grinned before pulling out and speeding away, getting a good distance away from the hospital and the station.

Zyla drove for a while before stopping at a gas station to fill up her car. She went inside to change her clothes, throwing the scrubs away, and buy a disposable cell phone and some food, avoiding the cameras as much as she could. Zyla drove from the gas pump to the parking lot and parked, going through the things that she had gotten before leaving. She had meds to last her a couple weeks, another change of clothes, a couple hundred dollars left, and then the things she got from her evidence box. Her maps, her notebooks, her fake IDs and credit cards, and her pictures.

She picked up a crinkled picture that had fell out the back of her notebook, and gave a small smile. It was her and Spencer as teenagers, and they had their arms around each other, and they were grinning from ear to ear. She didn't really remember that day; what they did, who took the picture, things like that, but it was one of her favorite photos. Spencer wasn't looking at the camera like Zyla was: he was looking at her, grinning. She never knew how much he loved her until much later in their lives.

She still doesn't really know.

Sighing, Zyla shoved things back into her bag, and took a few medicine tablets, swallowing them dry. She lifted up her shirt and saw her bandages stained red with blood. Some of her stitches must have broken, and the wound must have opened again. Biting her lip, her eyes squeezed shut in pain, she let her shirt drop. She spread her maps on the passenger seat, setting her bag on the ground in front of it. Her cell phone rested on the dash, and she took a couple gulps of her coffee from the gas station before turning on her car, turning up the radio, and starting a long drive, trying hard to not look back.


It was a quiet day for the BAU team; as quiet as it could get, at least. JJ was endlessly going through different cases, wondering which one they would set off to next. The rest of the team was finishing up paperwork. The sky that day was gray, and it was midday when Spencer Reid stormed in with a pale face and red eyes.

Derek and Emily both jumped up when they saw him, but he completely ignored them as he strode into Hotch's office. Hotch looked up in surprise when he saw him. "Reid, I didn't know you were coming back today-"

"I need your help." Spencer said, his voice cracking just the slightest from worry. Hotch stood, eyebrows furrowed with concern. "What's the matter? What's happened?"

"It's Zyla. She's missing, she ran. Help me find her."


A/N: Again, I have the next chapter already written, so it should be up in a day or so.

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