I apologize for my absence. I know it's been a while but forgive me, college is interesting. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE it. But it's a lot of work. I've been swamped with school work, making friends, studying and having fun. Don't worry though, I haven't forgotten about this story.
Sorry this chapter is a bit short, but I just wanted to get something out.
Thanks for your understanding and patience :)
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 6 : The Hunt
…
Two weeks had passed since they'd put the pieces together. Brian and Joe and created a partnership once Joe had set his eyes on Emily. He had been responsible for the murders back in Washington and then realized Emily was working on his case for the second time, causing him to go after her. Derek and Reid were simply collateral damage in the crash, it was Emily who was the target. Joe's partner, Brian, had been expendable, obvious from the fact that Brian was found murdered. Emily was being released from the hospital later that night and the case put on hold while the team made sure her discharge went smoothly.
"You ready to get out of this place?"
"More than you know." Emily said while she slid on her slippers. After the accident, her coordination and muscle strength was dramatically weaker, making it hard for her to bend down and put shoes on, among other daily tasks. Garcia had shopped around dozens of stores in search of easy, slide on shoes for the brunette woman. Slippers were her favorite choice, evident by the array of different colors and designs each pair had.
"Alright, Kiddo. You're going to have to agree to the chair," He pointed to the wheelchair next to the door, "otherwise they won't let you go." Rossi pointed out.
Emily rolled her eyes. "Of course. They do know I can walk, right?"
Rossi chuckled. "I'm sure they do. It's protocol."
"Well, protocol sucks."
The older agent stifled another chuckle while he wheeled the chair next to her and helped her lower herself into it. She let out a grunt as her bottom hit the chair surface.
"Let's get moving, old man." She teased, the sparkle in her eye lighting up. "I'm ready to break out of this joint."
…
Three hours later, Emily was sitting on her couch, flipping through the tv channels.
"Are you hungry?"
She jolted slightly, startled by the voice behind her, her brain forgetting that he was in her apartment.
"Not really." She said casually, passing through endless reality tv channels.
"You've gotta eat, Prentiss." Derek said. "Get those muscles back."
"I'm not hungry."
Derek sighed, his eyes focused on the back of her head while she sat on the couch. "Okay."
He closed the refrigerator door after placing the casserole JJ had dropped off back on the shelf next to the multitude of meals the team and her neighbors had made for her. He filled up two glasses of water and headed back over to the couch.
He sat down on the end of the plush couch, handing her the second glass of water. "What are you watch—"
The sound of a gunshot and glass shattering interrupted him. The shot sounded unbelievably close. Too close.
Derek snapped his head over his right shoulder and found the damage. Her window was completely demolished. Before he could form the words to tell her to get down, a second shot crackled through the apartment window, hurtling past his cheek and, as if time was moving in slow motion, he watched the bullet strike her shoulder. Her expression changed from one of confusion to shock and pain.
"Get down!" He cried, his voice finally listening to his commands.
He leapt over towards her and shielded her body with his own while he effectively grabbed her body and flung her onto the ground, along with himself. On the ground, he was facing her. He saw the fear and pain written all over her face. He needed to act fast.
He dragged her into the entry hallway, away from the line of fire. There had been at least three more shots after the first but now it was silent, save for Emily's ragged, rapid breathing. He took off his shirt, balled it up and pressed it into the gaping hole just below her collar bone. A slight whimper escaped her lips at the pressure and he apologized, but he unlocked his phone and dialed 911.
What felt like hours later, but in reality had only been minutes, he heard the sirens.
Relief flooded into Derek's veins, giving him the strength to put a bit more pressure onto the wound, then locking eyes with his partner. She was paler than she normally was and there was a thin sheen of sweat above her eyebrows.
"You're gunna be okay." He smiled down at her. "You hear me? They're almost here."
She closed her eyes and swallowed the cry that threatened to be released. "It…hurts…" She staggered out, her voice cracking and failing her all at the same time.
"I know, baby, I know." He said, feeling his own heart break in half at her pained words. He stroked her hair back off her forehead, desperate to comfort her in any way he could. "Just hold on, they're almost here."
…
Morgan what happened?" Hotch said, the rest of the team following him closely.
Morgan shook his head, unclenched his fists and exhaled sharply. The anger boiling up inside of him was astronomical. The amount of anger he felt towards Joe was threatening to bubble over their limits.
"That bastard shot her."
"How do you know?" Hotch's brows furrowed in confusion.
Morgan released the breath of anger and rubbed his hands over his head. "Damn it, Hotch! I know it was him, okay?"
"Morgan, do you need to take a walk?" Rossi suggested.
Derek actually chuckled. A walk. A damn walk while his partner was being treated for a gunshot wound, in the hospital, for what felt like the hundredth time. "No, Rossi, I don't need to take a walk."
"Emily Prentiss?"
An older man in a white coat with a name tag that read 'John Thomas' approached them from the double doors, holding a clip board in the crook of his left arm and a pen in his right. The team looked on eagerly at the man, eyes wide and breaths held.
"That's us." Hotch spoke for them. "How is she?"
"Agent Prentiss sustained a gunshot wound to her upper shoulder. Despite some bone chipping, she was extremely lucky." He paused when he heard the agents release their concerned breaths. "The bullet didn't hit any of the major arteries or tendons, just took out a good chunk of flesh. As for the bone, it'll take a few months to heal. I do expect her to make a full recovery if she follows our instructions."
Hotch watched as JJ and Garcia exchanged a quick hug and Rossi pat Spencer on the back. The one he watched the most was Derek. Arguably his most hot-headed agent but also one of the most compassionate and caring. The dark agent let the relief show, his eyes closing and the tension leaving his shoulders. But, when his eyes reopened, Aaron saw the pain and anger that still lingered behind the relief. The anger that was cast towards Joe Belser.
The doctor leaned forward to shake hands with Hotch, giving him a smile. "If you'd like to see her I'll have a nurse come and retrieve you when she's able to have visitors."
"Thank you, Doctor. We appreciate it." Hotch said, locking eyes with the doctor. Thomas gave a small nod, understanding the sincere gesture.
"Rossi, Reid," Hotch started, "I want the two of you to go to Emily's apartment. See if there's anything there we can use. We'll call you when we see her."
The two men nodded and left for their assignment. Both hesitated to leave the hospital but knew it was for the best. In order to find the man responsible, they had to do their jobs. Even if that meant not seeing Emily right away.
"Garcia and JJ, pull the surveillance tapes from the area. Maybe we'll get lucky." He said and the women quickly walked towards the doors in order to get back to Quantico.
"What about me?" Morgan asked.
Hotch looked at the man standing in front of him. His eyes were filled with determination but also worry. Worry that Emily couldn't handle much more of this. Worry that Emily was slipping away. Worry that his partner wouldn't be the same. And for Hotch? Well, he felt it too. Only he was better at hiding and pushing his emotions down. Derek Morgan was a man who wore his emotions on his face.
"You stay here." Hotch said softly. "I want someone there when she wakes up."
Aaron watched as a smile grew across the darker man's face. "Thanks, man."
"I will talk to the local police, see if they will officially invite us in."
Thirty minutes after the rest of the team had left for their specific assignments, a young nurse with piercing blue eyes slowly wandered towards him. "Agent Morgan?"
"Yes?"
"Doctor Thomas told me I'd find you here." She said, tucking her blonde bangs behind her ear. "I can take you to Emily, now."
Derek nearly leapt out of the plastic chair, his heart starting to race. "How is she? Is she awake?"
"Slow down." She warned, placing her hand on his shoulder. "She's awake but in a tremendous amount of pain. She's refusing pain meds—"
Derek shook his head. "Of course she is." He mumbled.
The blonde quickly and quietly led him down a brightly lit hallway, past an open corridor and then curved a bit down the next hallway before stopping. "I'll be right outside if you need anything." Derek nodded and put his hand on the knob. The blonde put a hand on his shoulder, causing him to pause and face her. "Don't aggravate her. She needs to rest."
Derek nodded and she offered him a sympathetic smile before turning swiftly and making her way back towards the nurses station. Derek exhaled, trying to prepare himself before entering. Hesitantly, he turned the knob and his eyes met her.
She was lying on the bed which was tilted up about thirty degrees and was on her back. Even from the door he could see the layer of sweat coating her cheeks and the rapid, but shallow, breaths.
"Emily." He said, his shoulders collapsing and his heart aching.
She opened her eyes and gave him a shaky smile before her face turned into a grimace and her knuckles went white while squeezing the thin blanket. He quickly pulled the chair out from besides her bed and lowered himself into it, grabbing her hand in the process.
"Nobody will think any less of you if you take the meds."
She smiled, closed her eyes and let a tear escape her closed lids. "I—don't l—like how th—they make me f-feel."
He smoothed the sweat-soaked hair off her forehead and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Then we'll do this together. I'm not leaving."
"Th—thanks." She said sincerely.
He locked his eyes with her glassy ones, smiling softly and nodding. "Always"