Yikes. I'm so sorry for the wait. I don't have muchof an excuse other than I'm occupied with college prep and spending time with family and friends before I leave. I hope to get at least another chapter up in the next two weeks before I leave. Hopefully. No promises.
WARNINGS: Dark themes, violence, mild language
- I will put an extra warning on chapters if I believe it's necessary
Disclaimer: Our wonderful crime fighters are not mine
Set in season late 5/early 6
Please leave reviews after reading…they really help motivate me to write! I feed off of them !
Chapter 5 : Protection
…
"Garcia said his prints match the ones found in the cabin." Morgan said, sliding his phone back into his pocket. "They were able to identify him with his wallet."
"Meet Brian Casey. Twenty nine, no close relatives or children."
"Brian must've been working with our unsub. We know he's targeting Emily, but why kill the partner?" Hotch thought aloud.
"Only ten to twenty five percent of serial killers have a partner, not to mention it is typically a male-female pair. The men seduce and groom the women into complying with their requests until they're in complete control. Maybe our unsub realized he was stronger without Brian?"
Morgan nodded. "Brian was the submissive partner. He was surprised when we got our of our cuffs and didn't seem to know what to do. We easily overpowered him." Morgan said.
Morgan dialed their technical analyst's number, tapping the side of the phone with his finger as they waited.
"My shiny superhero, what can I do for you?"
"Have you been able to find the owner of the cabin?"
They heard a bout of typing from the other end until she shrieked. "Oh, you always have the best timing. Results just came back." They could hear more typing and beeping. "It's owned by Ingrid Devis."
"Where is she?"
Garcia clicked and typed on the machines, eyes scanning for the information she needed. "Uhh…oh, awe, it looks like Ms Devis died in 2008 of a heart attack at eighty-two."
"Who owns the house now?" Hotch asked.
"That would be nobody, sir. It was abandoned."
"So Brian just happens to stumble across an abandoned cabin?" Rossi said.
"Keep looking for our connection, Garcia. Brian might've known Ingrid." Hotch told her.
"Is that all?"
"Yeah, that's it. Thanks Babygirl."
"Anything for my chocolate God. PG out." Penelope said and used her feather pen to hang up.
Hotch sighed, unable to formulate a plan to catch their unsub. Now, it was personal and that always made it harder. "We need one of us with Prentiss at all times." The rest of the team nodded. "I'll have an officer assigned to her room but she's never alone, understood?"
"Of course." They answered in unison.
JJ alerted the men to her presence by clearing her throat. Once the four heads were looking in her direction, she spoke. "They're going to have Emily stand up. Something about getting brain injury patients up and moving as soon as possible…" she trailed off.
"I'm going in—" Derek stated, quickly breaking away from the group only to be stopped by the blonde's hand in the center of his chest.
"Slow down. I asked Emily if she wanted someone with her." JJ removed her hand from his chest, now certain he wasn't going to barge into the room. "She said no."
"That's what she thinks now but—" Derek protested.
"I'm assuming whatever is about to happen won't be pretty. She's been laid up in a hospital bed for weeks without being able to breathe on her own. We have to respect her choice."
Derek huffed but eventually backed down. He opted to pace outside of the room, which now had it's curtains drawn to prevent him from seeing what was going on inside the room. With his arms crossed in front of his chest, he exchanged a concerned glance with Reid before sliding down the glass window and placed his head in his hands.
…
"Alright sweetie," Sheryl said while she moved the monitors and ventilator machine to the opposite side of the bed. "I'm going to help you swing your legs over the bed, okay?"
Emily blinked once for yes.
"Let's get you sitting up, huh?" Sheryl placed her hand under Emily's shoulder and one on the middle of her back. Slowly, she eased the brunette off her back and held her steady.
Emily felt as if her entire world was being rocked violently, causing her head to spin and her hand to reach out for something to hold. She made contact with Sheryl's upper arm and held on for dear life.
Suddenly, the partially familiar woman's wrinkled face was in front of her. "Are you okay?"
Something deep inside her bubbled to the surface. She didn't exactly know what is was or why it was just not making itself known, but she felt alone. Part of her knew it was rational, as JJ had asked her if she wanted someone with her and she had Sheryl. This woman she'd been told she'd met before but had no recollection of it. In the end, the irrational part of her won. The tears began to flow freely and although she could not make any sound, her body was moaning.
"Honey, what's wrong?" Sheryl asked. "You're doing so well."
The experienced nurse followed her patients eyes to the door. The same door her blonde friend had left only moments before. Her brain managed to put the pieces together.
"Do you want me to go get one of them?"
With tears glistening in her eyes, Emily blinked once.
"JJ?"
One bink.
"Okay, I'll get her." She said, gently helping Emily lie back again.
She quickly walked to the door, twisting the knob to allow herself out. She looked around the small corridor, ignoring the pleading looks from each team member. When her eyes finally found the blonde hair they'd been searching for, she smiled.
"JJ, she wants you."
JJ nodded and nearly leapt out of her seat. She followed the grey-haired woman into Emily's room where she found her friend, with tear tracks down her cheeks, lying in the bed.
"Oh, Em." JJ wrapped her hand around Emily's and searched the brunettes eyes. Helplessness, pain and fear were swirling around her nearly black eyes. However, with her friend by her side, the doubt and fear left her mind. Instead, determination and hope replaced them.
…
"Garcia, did you find anything?"
The analyst didn't speak right away, as she was still processing what she had found. "I went back to the years Ingrid Delvis lived in the cabin, so around 1993, and found a newspaper article."
"And?" Hotch prompted.
Penelope tapped away at the keys and sorted through the newspaper articles. "Well, this is where it gets interesting, sir. Do you remember Joe Belser?"
Hotch searched his memory for the name, coming up empty. "No. Should I?"
"He was an unsub your team of spectacular crime-fighters took down earlier this year."
Hotch was still confused as to where the analyst was going with this. "What does Joe Belser have to do with Casey or Ms Delvis?"
"That's just it, Bossman! Joe and Brian mowed Ingrid Delvis' lawn for years before she died. Both boys were twelve and the local paper wrote an article about it."
Hotch was still mulling over the new information, trying to figure out why Joe Belser would be involved, even how he'd be apart of this nightmare when he remembered a conversation he overheard on the jet.
All I'm sayin' is, I don't ever wanna piss you off." Derek said, nudging Emily in her side. "Who knew Ms Prentiss could turn into such a badass."
"Agent." Emily corrected playfully. "Besides, don't tell me you didn't want to do the same thing for what he put those women through. I should've done worse."
"What made you jump on him like that, Em? I've never seen you like that?" JJ asked from the seat across from her.
Emily shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I let it get too personal?"
Satisfied, JJ let her head fall a bit towards her shoulder and gazed out the window. Morgan put his headphones on while Prentiss sifted through Joe Belser's case file.
"She made it personal…" Hotch said, not exactly speaking to anyone, merely allowing her to hear his thoughts.
"What?"
"Emily, she tackled him. Gave him a talk about prison and 'playing along.' She let her guard down." Hotch said breathlessly, leaving Garcia stunned. "Penelope, what happened at Belser's trial?"
"Give me a second…uhhh…" He heard her typing furiously on the computers, "Here it is. Oh no…it looks like he…got off on a mistrial. Contaminated evidence."
"So he's free?"
"It looks like it, sir. What else can I do?"
Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose, attempting to release some of the newfound worry and tension. "See if you can find him on any surveillance tapes in Quantico. We know he's here."
"I'm on it."
The two hung up and Hotch looked back to his team, or more what was left of his team at this point. They looked at him, expecting him to give them the next step, to guide them through this shit show. In all honestly, Hotch was nearly winging it at this point. He knew they were all technically 'involved with the victim' but there was no way they'd hand the case over to another team.
"Let's go back to the bureau." He said, noting the disappointment on their faces. "JJ is here with Prentiss. There's nothing more any of us can do here."
With that, the men headed off to put together a new profile and to review the case files from Joe Belser's investigation.
…
"JJ called," Reid said breathlessly as he hurried back into the bullpen. "Emily's being extubated."
"She's having the breathing tube removed, that's good, right?" Derek asked.
Reid nodded instantly. "It is. But in the intensive care unit, approximately ten to forty-seven percent of patients required re-intubation twenty four hours after the first attempt—"
He could see and feel the pairs of eyes burning holes into him, worry and fear evident in each. Flustered, he quickly tried to recover. "But…I'm sure Emily will be fine."
"Morgan," Hotch said with his arms crossed, "you and Dave go to the hospital. Try and see if Emily knows anything that might help us. Ask her about Joe Belser, but don't push her."
Derek grabbed the SUV keys and the pair began their exit.
"Oh," Hotch said, causing both men to stop abruptly. "and tell JJ we need her here to deal with the press. Somehow they got wind of your abduction."
…
"Hey, Kiddo. How're you feeling?" Rossi asked, gently placing a hand on her knee.
Emily swallowed, then licked her lips. "Good." She managed to rasp. "How's…Hotch?"
Her question confused both Rossi and Morgan. Hotch wasn't involved in the crash. There was no reason for her to believe he was injured. Derek attributed the question to the brain injury. She must've gotten the name wrong. Maybe she meant Reid?
"Emily, dear, remember what I told you? You need to let your throat heal. That means minimal talking." Sheryl said as she adjusted the clear oxygen cannula under Emily's nose. However, Emily simply shooed her hand away, ignoring her orders.
"Hotch? Is he okay?"
Rossi's eyebrows inched closer together in confusion. "Emily, do you mean Reid?"
"No!" She answered sharply which earned her a coughing fit, one that made her feel as though her throat was being shredded to pieces. Sheryl quickly filled a plastic cup with water and stuck a straw into the liquid. Emily gulped down the cool water. She then leaned her head back against the pillow, closed her eyes and sucked in the oxygen she was lacking.
"Hotch…" She forced. "Foyet."
Foyet? Why in the hell was she talking about Hotch and Foyet? Aaron had killed the bastard nearly ten months ago. Then, Rossi remembered something Reid had said.
"Some people wake up from TBI's and show signs of post traumatic amnesia, where they have trouble either forming new memories, in which case it would be anterograde amnesia, or cannot remember old memories, or retrograde amnesia. Studies show that nearly forty-five percent of traumatic brain injury survivors experience some degree of memory loss."
Derek leaned in closer to Rossi. "Why's she talkin' about Foyet?"
Rossi ignored him and moved to stand closer to Emily's bed. "He's fine."
Emily visibly relaxed into the bed, closing her eyes and swallowing before she reopened them and looked around at her surroundings. "Why am I in the hospital?"
"Emily, I need you to stay calm while I tell you, can you do that?"
She narrowed her eyes at him, clearly confused but she nodded.
"You were in a car accident. The guy held you, Derek and Reid captive. You guys managed to escape but you had sustained a pretty nasty blow to your noggin and had brain swelling." He said, watching her expression go from confused to horrified. "Do you remember any of that?"
She shook her head.
"Emily, honey, you're suffering from post traumatic amnesia. A condition that prevents you from remembering some events in your past."
Emily looked at Sheryl, tears on the brink of falling.
"Hotch killed Foyet ten months ago. He's gone." Derek added.
"Why can't I remember?" Emily asked, a tear rolling silently down her cheek.
"Your noggin took quite the beating, Prentiss." Derek said. "I guess you've got a pretty thick skull."
She smiled and looked back down at her hands, clearly unnerved by the new diagnoses. Derek and Rossi silently agreed to leave out the part about the external drain that had been placed weeks before. Clearly exhausted from the conversation, Derek and Rossi said their goodbyes and waited in the hall for JJ to arrive for her shift.
"The last thing she remembers is Hotch and Foyet…" Rossi thought aloud, "she must not even remember Joe Belser's case."
"I swear, when I get my hands on that bastard—"
"Don't bottle that up, Derek. Hotch'll take you off the case in a heartbeat if he hears you."
The younger man paced and ran his hands over his head. He stopped and dragged his hands down his face. "You didn't see her in the forest—"
"And I'm sure it was awful." He said. "But, you can't help her if you're off the case."
Taking a moment to regain his composure, Derek nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right."
"When am I not?" Rossi teased. "Let's go catch the bastard."
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