Related episode: 3.8 Lucky, 3.9 Penelope

Vivace-meaning "lively" and "vivid"

I still had my bad days. Sometimes, there would be some reminder that forced me to relive all of my anger, disappointment, and depression. Looking at a flower garden could send tears to my eyes, thinking of my mom. I hadn't played chess with Reid since the first game we tried to play after Dad left had me shaking. And other times, I could be in the middle of something completely unrelated and it would all suddenly hit me again.

Whenever it happened, I let it happen. Part of what I was learning in Garcia's counseling sessions from other people was that hiding from the pain didn't help. However miserable I felt, I made myself feel it all. I didn't want to make the same mistakes again.

It took awhile to realize that the bad days were getting less frequent, but I wasn't thinking I was "over" any of it. Another gem from the sessions was that you don't get over tragedy. You live with it and work through it which was okay some days and seemed impossible on others.

One night, I knew Hotch was supposed to call Haley to talk about their situation, so I decided to spend some time with Garcia in her apartment. I found the tech goddess on her couch with a film reel set up in her living room, watching a home movie.

"I was thinking about my parents today," Garcia admitted as we both sat down on the couch after getting cups of cocoa piled high with marshmallows. "Well, I was thinking about you and hoping that you didn't make the same mistakes I did."

She had talked about her parents at my first session. I knew they had died in a car accident when she was eighteen and that she had cut herself off from everybody she knew.

"I have a fairy godmother who won't let me make those mistakes," I answered, leaning against her shoulder and snuggling under the blanket she had spread over us.

Garcia reached out and tweaked my nose. Joining in, Hannah batted a paw at Garcia's retro earring before settling on top of my lap to curl up asleep. Certainly my cat was happier living with Garcia than with Dad.

Worn out from the day—my sleep patterns were still wacky, another "normal" side effect of grief—I fell asleep on Garcia's couch, waking up with a start hours later, alone. My watch told me it was almost midnight.

"Crap," I muttered, struggling to untangle myself from the blanket and find my shoes and jacket.

"Chill out, chica," Garcia spoke up from her bed, laptop in her lap. "I called Hotch and told him it would just be easier to let you spend the night."

Still a little groggy, I blinked a few times and tried to process the speech I was hearing. On the surface, I had no issues with that scenario. I had brought my back pack over to do homework and Garcia could drive me to school in the morning. But, there was one thing…

"What about clothes?" I asked. Garcia and I were very different sizes, just height-wise alone.

"For tonight, you can borrow a tee shirt," Garcia explained, getting up and retrieving a bright pink shirt that would come down to my knees and covered in cupcakes. "And we can always stop by Hotch's in the morning."

With no further objections, I nodded, accepted the shirt and went to the bathroom to change. Soon, I was back on the couch and fell asleep again. It took a minute to remember where I was when I woke up, but it wasn't too terrible. Frankly, I still had a moment of shock at Hotch's house most mornings.

Garcia apparently wasn't a breakfast person and got her coffee on the go. Hotch was gone already by the time we got to his house, apparently taking advantage of the fact he didn't need to wait for a reasonable time to drop me off at school. I changed quickly and we were on the road again.

She was a regular at the particular café where we stopped, judging from the girl behind the counter who just took Garcia's travel mug without needing the drink stated. At Garcia's nudge, I ordered a caramel macchiato and a biscotti. We were on our way out when Garcia was distracted by some poor guy losing an argument with his computer.

I hid my grin behind my cup as Garcia worked her tech magic and then followed up with some flirting, including giving out her phone number. We waited until we got outside before bursting into entirely girlish giggles. In the car, I sobered up.

"Should you have given him your number?" I asked, vividly imagining what Dad would have said if I were ever to do the same thing.

"It's my work line," she assured me. "Surrounded by some of the FBI's finest, I feel safe."

Couldn't argue with that.

Garcia pulled into the drop off lane in the school parking lot, leaning over to kiss me on the cheek. "All right my lovey, you know the drill-"

"You'll call or text me if I need to catch the bus home," I finished for her.

Michael was waiting for me at the front door. "Who was that?" he demanded. "Her car is fantastic."

"That was Garcia," I told him with a smile. "And she already has a date for tonight, so you're out of luck."

He took my teasing in stride. "Forget the date, I just want to put my hands all over that engine."

"I'll see what I can do," I promised.

Michael bumped my shoulder before abruptly slowing his pace. I looked around for what could have startled him and I saw Alicia, Mark, and some others gathered around the door to the band room, where Michael and I were heading to hang out before the first bell. I wasn't surprised to see Mark's arm around Alicia's waist.

Michael's hand closed around my wrist, a silent offer to turn around as well as an expression of protection. But I kept walking forward and Michael had to keep up with me, still holding on. I watched as the group parted like the Red Sea, letting us through the door unmolested. Almost.

When it appeared that we were out of ear shot, I heard Alicia say, "See the way he held on to her? They have to be doing it."

When Michael would have spun around, I changed our hand position so that I was holding onto him, dragging him with me into a practice room.

"It's nothing anyone hasn't been saying for almost two years," I pointed out. "And she's been thinking it for that long even if she hasn't said anything until now."

Michael paced the small room, hands balled up into fists at his side.

"Why doesn't this upset you?" he demanded. "And the way they were hanging onto to each other!"

"Because with everything else going on in my life, Alicia showing off and finally speaking her mind is really petty in comparison," I answered calmly. "Why is it upsetting you so much?"

It took awhile for Michael to answer, to the point that I gave up expecting him to. And sure, I could have let this episode get to me. A part of me that was used to hearing Dad and Reid talk about cases could even start profiling Mark and Alicia's budding new relationship. She had always been jealous of me and wanted Mark for herself, and Mark was probably trying to make a dig at me by going out with my former best friend.

"Not all of the guys at this school are jerks," Michael finally said.

I raised my eyebrows at his admission. Michael wasn't known for always thinking well of others, especially our so-called peers.

"I just don't want you to lose opportunities just because everyone thinks we're an item," Michael admitted guiltily.

I couldn't help it, I laughed. Michael stared at me in astonishment as I tried to bring myself under control.

"That is so far on the bottom of my worry list," I managed to get out between bursts. "If that's the only reason, then just forget it. It's not worth spending brain cells even thinking about it."

"Rachel—"

"No," I cut him off, dropping any trace of humor in my voice. "Don't you dare give them the power to doubt or second guess our friendship. They're not worth it."

I reached out and up, putting my hands on Michael's face so that he looked at me until I saw that he believed me. Once I saw the understanding in his eyes, I pulled him in to hug. Eventually, Michael's arms wrapped around me and he put his face down on my shoulder.

It wasn't until we pulled away from each other that I really noticed the way he was breathing a little too carefully. I reached out and lightly brushed my fingers over his chest and stomach, watching as he winced in pain and shied away from me.

"Your dad?" I asked carefully. It was something we never openly talked about. I knew that it was wrong, but I also knew Michael would refuse any help on the matter and that pestering him about it would drive him away from me.

"Nothing serious," Michael dismissed the matter. "And it's only for another few months."

As soon as Michael turned eighteen, he was moving out and away from his abusive, drunk father. For the most part, it was just yelling and insults, but a few times Michael has had bruises not caused by fights with our fellow students.

"We could so something about it right now," I offered. So far, it did seem like Michael had everything under control—as much as a situation like this could be controlled.

Michael shook his head at me. "Not with my history of trouble making," he said somewhat ruefully. "There's no way to prove what's actually happening beyond a reasonable doubt."

I hated it, but I knew he was right. As much as I wanted to tell Hotch or any other authorities, I was aware how difficult it could be to prove cases of abuse. And that's without Michael's history for getting into fights and his less than exemplary school records.

The rest of my day was somewhat subdued after that. Michael was working in the afternoon, so I went back to Hotch's house, letting the volume on the stereo creep up beyond my usual setting when he was around. Sitting around after I finished my homework, I thought again that I should probably find a job. I knew that I had enough in my trust fund to pay for school and still have some security after I graduated (thanks to Mom's career in medicine and Dad's book sales), but mostly, I just needed something else to do with my time.

The next day, I decided to go back to Garcia's apartment to play with Hannah. It just wasn't the same not seeing her every day like I was used to for most of my life. I had thought I would be gone by the time Garcia got off of work, but she came in earlier than I expected.

"Sorry," I said when she burst in like a whirlwind. I really hoped she wasn't sick of me being over all the time. "I thought you wouldn't be back until six."

"Not to worry, chica," Garcia assured me, still moving around like a gusting wind to put her things away. "I'm actually headed out soon on a date."

"Coffee shop guy?" I asked with a sly smile.

"You bet. I need to change quickly, he'll be here in an hour."

It took a moment to put the right word to what I was sensing, but I never would have expected Garcia to be nervous about a date. She was back in her bedroom by the time I figured it out and also decided not to mention it. Not my business and she must know what she's doing better than me.

"Feel free to stay while I'm gone, okay?" Garcia said. "Just call Hotch if you're going to be here late; the team's getting in from a case late tonight."

Garcia paused for a minute before looking at me carefully. "It was really bad, so just be prepared."

I nodded, grateful for the warning. None of the BAU's cases are exactly sunshine and daisies, but when any of them feel the need to mention one is bad, that usually means it's horrifying to a normal person. Everything's relative, I guess.

"Do you think I should just sleep over again so that Hotch can have time to himself?" I asked.

"You don't have to, sweetie," Garcia answered, her voice getting fainter as she ducked into her bedroom and closet. "You're always welcome to, but don't feel like you have to get out of his way."

"Maybe I should be asking if I'll be in your way later tonight!" I called out playfully.

I could hear her chuckling. "I don't move that quickly!" she called back.

About twenty minutes later, Garcia came back out into the front room. There can't be many women who could pull off gold and silver sequins and glitter, but on Garcia it looked glamorous.

"Have fun tonight," Garcia told me, leaning down to kiss my cheek.

"You, too," I shot back with a teasing smile.

I actually left myself soon after Garcia did to return to the house and pick up my own pajamas and a change of clothes. I left a note for Hotch and also sent him a text to let him know where I would be. Back at Garcia's apartment, I made a pot of mushroom alfredo pasta and blueberry muffins for the next morning. I took the time to brush Hannah thoroughly to her satisfaction and helped myself to Garcia's nail polish collection to paint my finger- and toenails.

I was contemplating changing into pajamas and laying out on the couch when I heard a sharp sound like a crack of some sort. About a minute later, I dismissed it as a type of car sound outside when I heard a woman screaming, almost right outside the window. I jumped up and poked my head out to look down. My breath left my body in a rush when saw the glitter of Garcia's dress, shining brightly against the dark front steps of the apartment building.

I raced down the stairs with the surety that the elevator would be slower than my own two feet. At the front door, I bumped into a woman—the one who must have screamed—who was already on her cell phone and calling the cops and ambulance by the sound of it. I knelt down next to Garcia, praying that I was overreacting to her pale skin, closed eyes, and the growing pool of blood underneath her body.

"Garcia. Garcia!"

There was a hole in her chest and I clamped my hands down on it firmly. Her eyes remained closed, but I could feel the faint rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. Some distant part of my brain registered that there was no blood coming out her mouth, so her lungs hadn't been punctured.

"Garcia, wake up!"

I was so focused on keeping up the pressure and shouting for her to wake up that I didn't notice the paramedics until one forcibly pulled me away. Two more swarmed past and began their own inspection and work.

The landlady (the woman who screamed I realized) was talking to the paramedics and I vaguely heard them get her to back off so they could keep working. Meanwhile, I began to shake and noticed that the third paramedic was talking to me.

"Miss? Can you tell me who you are? Are you her daughter?"

"No," I answered, too stunned to say more than that.

"Are you her sister? Are you family?"

"Yes," I said. "I'm family."

I wasn't even thinking it through that he was trying to determine if I would be allowed to ride along with them to the hospital. I just knew that even though there wasn't a word for what Garcia and I were to each other, I was family.

"Okay, let's have you ride with us. Is there someone you can call? An adult?"

"Yeah, um, my… Hotch, I should call him and Spencer and Morgan…" I drifted off, following complacently as the paramedic led me to the ambulance and to the front seat with him. The other two had already strapped Garcia onto a gurney and loaded her up.

I rode the whole trip with my head craned around to watch Garcia in the back. She was still, so still and quiet, and so unlike what I was used to seeing in her. At the hospital, the driver ushered me to the side as more doctors and nurses in scrubs swarmed out, unloading the gurney and rushing back inside, everyone shouting incomprehensible jargon at each other that even I had a hard time following.

In the ER, I was led to a chair where I collapsed. A nurse came over and told me that they had called Hotch, having found his number in Garcia's contact information. I nodded my understanding and sat in numb silence. It wasn't until I looked down and saw the blood on my hands that I fully realized what had happened. And then, I had a flashback.

I barely made it to a trash can, ignoring how people shifted away from me. While I dry heaved, another nurse coming around came over and walked me back to my chair, bringing me a wet washcloth and a cup of water soon after. It wasn't easy to clean my hands while they were still shaking, but somehow I managed.

She can't die, I thought over and over again.

"Rachel?"

I looked up and saw Hotch and JJ, each still dressed in work clothes and looking concerned. They were concerned and I was either in shock or about to panic.

"Someone shot her, Hotch," I said tonelessly. "They just shot her outside the front door."

"I'll talk to the nurse to check on her condition," JJ offered. "Reid and Emily are on their way, I still have to call Rossi, and Morgan isn't answering."

Hotch nodded once and then sat down next to me. There was nothing more that I wanted at that moment than to just cocoon myself in Hotch's arms as he told me that of course Garcia would be okay and there was nothing to worry about. But Hotch would never lie to me. He rested his hand on my shoulder and squeezed, for comfort or my attention, I don't know.

"Tell me what you know," he asked, not unkindly.

"She was so still," I said. It was really the most significant thing in my memory. Even watching Garcia sit at her computers at her office, she was never still.

"Rachel, I need you to tell me what happened tonight," Hotch repeated, giving me a little shake.

I shook my head, trying and failing to get rid of the images in my mind. "I was at her apartment," I said even though I knew Hotch knew that. "I heard a sound, like a car back firing or something. Maybe a minute later, the landlady screamed and I looked out the window." I paused to swallow a few times, trying not to cry or break down. "Garcia was just lying there on the ground and I could see blood on the sidewalk. I ran downstairs and I tried to stop the bleeding. I tried, I really tried—"

I lost my fight and started to cry, letting Hotch pull me in close to hold me. I kept my tears silent, clenching my lips together to keep from sobbing. I don't know how long I stayed like that until suddenly, Hotch stood up. I looked up to wonder why he had moved so unexpectedly, but then Emily was in his place, wrapping her arms around me as Reid sat on my other side and rubbed my back with his hand.

By the time JJ got back, I was just resting against Emily's shoulder, my opposite hand held securely in Reid's. Hotch stood stiffly in front of us, constantly scanning the room for what, I don't know.

"She's in surgery," JJ reported. "Right now, they're telling me that her condition is critical."

I buried my face into Emily's shoulder deeper, but I could still make out the harsh fluorescent lighting and the various sounds from waiting patients, nurses, and the PA system.

"A nurse told me there's a quieter hallway closer to the OR where we can wait," JJ continued. "Rossi is on his way, I'll wait for him. I still can't reach Morgan."

Hotch nodded and then looked down at Reid, Emily, and me.

"I'll try Morgan," Emily answered some unspoken question. "He might just be asleep with his phone off."

Another nod from Hotch. Emily gently nudged me toward Reid and stood up, walking out of the ER to use her phone. A second later, Hotch and Reid were leading me down a hallway, leaving the chaotic sounds of the ER behind us. Even that short walk exhausted me and I collapsed into the closest chair I came to. After a moment of hesitation, Reid sat next to me again and silently offered me his shoulder for a pillow. I accepted gratefully.

Eventually, Emily, JJ, and Rossi joined us. Rossi remained standing as Hotch had while the women claimed the seats across the hall from Reid and me. No one spoke after that which was a little bit of a relief. For all that I wanted someone to say that we had nothing to worry about, I didn't want lies.

Somehow, I managed to fall asleep cuddled next to Reid. I missed Morgan's arrival, but I woke up when I felt Reid tense up as a doctor in rumbled scrubs approached our group.

And thank God, Jesus, Buddha, Allah, and whoever else was listening, Garcia was going to be okay. I just about started crying again from relief. She was going to be okay.

"I'm sure she'll want to see familiar faces when she wakes up," Hotch said, eyeing the group of us and focusing on me. "Rossi and I will go the scene. The rest of you wait here and see what she can tell you about what happened."

Hotch gestured me over to him with a single look and I went obediently to his side.

"You are coming with me to get some sleep. I'll call your school to excuse you from your morning classes, but no more."

I opened my mouth to object to that, but another look at Hotch's face silenced me. He was grim as usual these days, but there was also stress on his face. It struck me that as the unit chief, this was all piling down on him a lot from the team coping to Dad's departure, dealing with me, and trying to save his marriage and family on top of it all. So, I didn't push him.

"Yeah, okay," I agreed. "But can I come here straight after school to see her?" I asked.

Hotch nodded gratefully, relieved that I hadn't argued. "I'll send someone to drive you."

I said my good byes to the team and gave Reid a kiss to pass along to Garcia when she woke up. I followed Hotch and Rossi out of the hospital, feeling sleep calling to me again. It was already close to six in the morning and I still hadn't settled into normal sleep patterns even after six months. Based on all the others things in my life that knocked me on my ass, I didn't anticipate having a normal sleeping pattern for years to come.

Hotch and Rossi deliberately didn't talk about the shooting while I was in the car with them which last year I would have resented but appreciated now. I didn't care about being treated like a child anymore. Whatever they wanted to spare me, it had nothing to do with my age.

The only problem came when I told Hotch that my back pack was still at Garcia's apartment. Since it was closer than his house anyway, we had to stop there first. And since we were there already, it made more sense for Hotch and Rossi to profile the scene before taking me to the house. At first, Hotch did insist that I wait in the car while he and Rossi did their thing, but I reminded him that Hannah would need her breakfast. Hotch frowned, but waved me in past the police tape.

When I came out almost fifteen minutes later—Hannah had needed some petting to calm her down from the drama last night—Hotch and Rossi were actually almost done. I could tell they had been talking about something intensely but shut up quickly when I came out. On the way in, I hadn't paid attention to the blood stain on the sidewalk, but I noticed it now. When I stopped dead in my tracks, Hotch figured out why immediately and reached for my hand to lead me back to the car.

"She's okay," Hotch reminded me. "And I'm sure part of that is because you got to her and helped stop the bleeding. Do you understand me?"

I nodded reflexively. I didn't point out that this was the second time I had seen someone I love bleeding on the ground. Or that I could now imagine what might have happened if I had reached my mother in time.

Instead, I remained mostly silent as Hotch then drove me back to his house with Rossi still riding shotgun. I almost fell asleep in the car and barely managed to stumble into the house with both men escorting me. It wasn't until I was climbing the stairs to my room when I thought about something I should have mentioned earlier in the night.

"Does anyone know what happened to her date?" I asked Hotch.

From the surprise on his face, he hadn't even known that Garcia had had a date.

"What date?" he demanded.

"She was on a date," I explained. "Some guy she met at a coffee shop, um, two days ago now."

"Do you know anything else about him?" Hotch asked sternly.

I shook my head. "No."

First, Hotch seemed like he wanted to interrogate me, but when he spoke, he only said, "Get some sleep. Set your alarm so that you can make it to school after lunch. Anderson will drive you there."

I knew better than to argue that point by now, however much I was beginning to feel like poor Anderson was being treated like my personal chauffeur.

Upstairs, I stripped off my clothes, set my alarm for noon, and fell into bed in my underwear. I was asleep as soon as I hit the mattress and managed to sleep without any dreams. When I woke up, I debated rushing to make the second half of Physics but mentally shrugged it off. I showered with very hot water to shake off the last traces of grogginess and made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with an apple for lunch.

I found Anderson parked in the driveway working on a case file. Back pack in tow, I walked out and hopped into the front passenger seat.

"I feel like I should have tip money for you at this point," I joked weakly. "Any news?"

"She woke up and talked with Agents Reid, Morgan, and Prentiss," Anderson reported, putting his file away and putting the car in gear. "A sketch artist is going in later today to get a description of the shooter."

I frowned. "They know who shot her?" I asked.

Anderson threw me a sharp look before turning back to the road. "It was her date from last night."

I sucked in a large breath and held it against the urge to scream. When I felt like I was capable, I released the breath slowly. "Damn it all to hell," I swore softly. I glared at Anderson. "You didn't just hear me swear."

"I heard nothing," Anderson agreed quickly.

He pulled up to the front entrance of the school this time and I hopped out.

"You'll pick me up at the end of school?" I asked.

"Three thirty sharp," Anderson confirmed.

I checked in at the office and headed for band early since there was only ten minutes left of my lunch period. After school would be an easier time to track down my teachers in their offices to turn in my morning's homework assignments. Walking down the hall, I saw Michael in one of the practice rooms. I walked in without knocking and sat down hard on the floor next to him.

"Where the hell have you been?" Michael demanded when I simply leaned my head back against the wall and closed my eyes.

"Garcia was shot last night," I replied.

Michael's arms were wrapped around me before I took another breath. I held on fiercely but I didn't subject him to my tears.

"Shit."

"Yeah," I agreed. "And I just found out it was the guy who asked her out." I broke away for a moment. "What the hell kind of guy asks a woman out, actually takes her on the date, and then shoots her? I mean, seriously?"

Michael shook his head. "You know better than me there are some sick bastards out there."

I grimaced. "And they keep popping up whenever I feel like it's safe, like cockroaches."

I made sure that I focused on my three classes, but a part of me was just counting down the minutes until I could race outside and find whoever was driving me back to the hospital. I did take the time to turn in my homework and luckily, my teachers had heard about what had happened.

Agent Anderson was dutifully waiting outside in the expected black SUV and even walked me up to Garcia's room at the hospital. Probably, Hotch had told him to escort me and make sure I wasn't there long because the agent waited in a chair outside while I went in.

Garcia herself was lying on her hospital bed and elevated ever so slightly for her recovery. Someone had cleaned all the make up off her face which, along with the likely blood loss, made her look pale and ill. Her hair was limp on the pillow and the hospital gown was a washed out shade of green. On anyone, it would look wrong, but especially for Garcia who managed to look glamorous in her pajamas, it was totally alien looking.

Her eyes were closed when I walked in, so I waited until I was at her side before whispering, "Garcia?"

Her eyes opened slowly and tried to focus on me. I spotted her glasses on the side table and wordlessly handed them to her carefully.

"No crying," she commanded me weakly. "If I go Niagara Falls, they'll have to change my bandages again."

I nodded shakily and reached for her hand. It wasn't anything like her lung-constricting, rib-squeezing hugs, but she managed to grasp my fingers.

I couldn't make myself ask if she was okay because I knew that was a really stupid question. I didn't say how worried I was because she would know that already. I just held on and tried to smile.

Garcia smiled back at me. "Remember how we talked about your fairy godmother not letting you make the same mistakes she did?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said, not sure where she was going with this.

"Here's another one for you, sweetie pie. You are never going out on a date with anyone that I don't investigate first and doesn't meet either Hotch or Morgan, capice?"

I giggled. "Absolutely. I'll end up never dating again."

Garcia squeezed my fingers and managed a slightly wider smile. "You betcha."

The next few days weren't easy as Garcia was left in the hospital, I split time between Hotch's house and her apartment to take care of Hannah, and the team got no where with finding the son of a bitch shooter. Of course, it was even more difficult when Garcia was suspended for reasons Hotch didn't explain to me and then she was attacked again at her apartment on her first night back. I heard all about it the next morning when I caught Hotch sneaking in for breakfast dressed in a suit already.

At first, I was pissed off that he had just left me in the middle of the night, but after he told me about Jason Clark Battle's audacious and ill-fated show down in the BAU, I let it go. Part of accepting him and the rest of the team as my family was also accepting that they were all of them protective, especially protective of me, and especially protective me with everything that's happened in the past year.

If I was also becoming equally protective of them, at least in my mind, that didn't seem all that unnatural to me.

Notes:

I played around with the logistics of this chapter a lot, like having Rachel present during the second shooting instead of the first, or present at both, and this is what I decided on. I even played around with having Rachel at the BAU during the final showdown for some reason, but I figured that was stretching it a bit too much. What I finally decided on (what you just read) I felt was the most probable and believable series of events.

As for the chapter title, how could I go with anything else?

I will be posting the next chapter next week on Monday. Thank you all for reading, I hope you are continuing to enjoy Rachel's story.

Cantoris