Monday, November 19th, 2012 5:12 PM
Potomac Valley Hospital, Keyser, WV
Morgan was returning to Garcia's room after leaving for a half hour as she took a nap, a cup of coffee cradled in his hand. He was about to sit down in the chair in front of Garcia's room when she called for him. He had to hold back a smirk as he entered the room and sat backwards in the chair next to the hospital bed.
"How are you feeling?" Morgan asked.
Garcia laughed quietly. "I think I understand what Reid was saying when he was shot."
Morgan chuckled. "Only hurts when you think about it?"
"Which is all the time."
Morgan and Garcia shared a laugh.
"You know what would make me feel better, though?" Garcia asked.
"What?"
"My laptop. It should be in my bag on the table over there."
Morgan smiled and got up, leaving his coffee in Garcia's hands. He brought over her laptop, trading it for his coffee, then sat back in the chair.
Garcia eagerly opened her laptop, typing in her password quickly. As she clicked on something, typed something else, then clicked on something else, her eyes narrowed, eyebrows angling down.
Morgan cocked his head to the left slightly, eyes narrowing as well. "What is it?"
Garcia waved him closer, and he moved to see the screen. "Look at this email."
Morgan carefully read the email, his fury building the more he stared at it.
Agents-
This is unexpected, at least to me. Amy is in need of help. As am I. I'm sure Jackson came and spread a huge lie, claiming that I'm the one that put her in such dire need of medical attention, and I guess it really is partially my fault. However, if you really wish to help her, you're going to have to work for it.
Below is my Skype. Contact me as soon as possible. I do hate to be kept waiting, but I do suggest all of you visit your friend Garcia. I believe you all have something to say. Not that I blame you.
Amy needs you. We all need you.
Stan
Garcia turned to Morgan. "Do you think he's telling the truth?"
Morgan sighed, but before he could respond, the rest of the team (minus Reid of course) filed into the room.
"Did you get the email?" Hotch asked.
"Stan's?" Morgan asked.
Hotch nodded.
"Yes. Just read it."
"How do we know he's being honest?" Garcia asked again.
"Because the Jackson in the email did in fact lie to us. But thankfully Rob Carter was still there. He got the truth out of him," Rossi explained.
Garcia sighed. "Should we really Skype him?"
"We have to. If the rest of the story is true, including the rape and beatings, then Amy is indeed in serious need of medical attention. Stan's injuries may be a ploy to get sympathy," Hotch said.
Morgan sighed. "Alright, baby girl, do your thing."
Garcia sighed, but reluctantly opened Skype and placed the call. The rest of the team gathered around her quickly.
When Stan answered, it took all of Morgan's strength not to punch the screen. JJ gasped, as Stan was indeed battered and bruised. There was a cut stitched up on his forehead, his lip was split and swollen, and he kept rubbing his left shoulder. The room behind him was dark. Somewhere behind him came the sound of someone pacing.
"Why the hell would they even bother, Stan?" came a familiar voice.
"Excuse me, but am I a profiler?" Stan asked, the voice.
"No, but why would they bother?"
"HOW THE HELL WOULD I KNOW?!" Stan exclaimed. "By George! You're worse than Amy at the age of five!"
"Reid!" Garcia cried.
The pacing stopped. "They made the call?"
Stan closed his eyes. "Yes, they made the call."
Reid suddenly appeared next to Stan. "Hey."
"Reid, are you okay?" Hotch asked.
He half smiled. "Yeah, I'm fine. Amy isn't, though."
"So we've heard," Rossi said.
Stan sighed. "Maybe I'll let you do the talking. At least they trust you."
"Stan, they have every reason not to trust you."
"Exactly my point."
Reid sighed. "Well, how's it going?"
"Where's Amy?" Hotch asked.
Reid pouted. "Gee, don't I feel loved. Stan, why don't you get her?"
Stan looked at Reid, his expression almost one of horror. "There is no way I am touching her, let alone getting up. She's been hurt too much. That, and I don't think standing up again will be a good idea."
Reid sighed. "And I don't think Dom will want to carry her over here." He disappeared from the camera view.
Stan looked at the laptop keys in what appeared to be exhaustion. As if to prove that, he yawned, wincing in pain, his right hand pressing against his lip. As soon as he saw the blood, he whispered angrily, "Shit." He shook his head.
Morgan didn't know what to make of Stan's actions. Was he acting, or was this really the way he was feeling? After a quick survey of the faces of his friends, he realized no one knew what to make of Stan's display...or true feelings. If it was the truth, this was the weakest they'd ever seen him.
A few minutes of silence elapsed until the sound of careful footsteps approached. Stan looked to his right, and almost instantly turned to his left, wincing in pain. Amy had entered the room.
Reid appeared quickly, gesturing to the chair next to Stan. It looked like he had darkness in his arms. "Dom, sit."
Domonick soon limped over and collapsed into the chair waving to the team. "Hey." He turned to Reid and held out his arms. The darkness was transferred from Reid to Domonick, and as Reid raced to the right to turn on the light, the darkness grew lighter and transformed into a recognizable being. As soon as the light turned on, the being cried out weakly, shielding its eyes. Reid pulled a chair over and sat between Stan and Domonick.
The being in Domonick's arms had wavy brown hair and bruised pale skin. Its metallic brown and teal glasses were broken, its face cut and bruised. Several cuts were stitched up, sure, but there were still many more. Its lips were stained with blood, as was the back of its head, dried blood in its hair. Its throat was bruised, the bruises in the shape of fingers and hands. The rest of the being was hidden from sight, but it was clear based on the expression that this being was in severe pain. The usual turtleneck was gone, no doubt removed for wound examination.
The being slowly moved its hand from its face, and squinted at the screen. It looked eyes with Hotch first, then Rossi, then JJ, then Prentiss, then Garcia, then finally Morgan. Morgan could see every ounce of pain it felt just by looking into her eyes. It continued to lock eyes with him until finally it went back to looking at Hotch. Out of curiosity, Morgan turned to look at Hotch's face and was surprised by what he saw. Much like Garcia and JJ, he was visibly distraught by the being's appearance. However, unlike the girls' more audible distress and mascara-dripping tears (in Garcia's case), the older agent confined his sadness to the uncontrollable tears streaming slowly from his eyes.
Morgan forced himself to look back at the screen and away from Hotch, however both sights were painful. Hotch brought depressing pain, but the being brought angering pain.
The being finally spoke, its voice hoarse and female, familiar yet not. "So...here we...are...again... Stuck...miles apart...yet closer...than we think."
Stan sighed. "At least this time I had the sense to stay in the same state."
"Jackson and Rob send their regards," Hotch suddenly said.
The being's eyes widened before it recoiled into Domonick's arms, whimpering. Its right wrist raised and fell, a bloodstained Ace bandage shaped rather oddly around it.
"Amy?" Morgan whispered.
She turned back to look at him. "Morgan."
"What happened?" he asked, hoping his voice was as gentle as he meant it to be.
She looked away. "We...we were attacked."
"By?"
She sighed. "By five...men. All...older...and taller...than Stan."
"No offense, but that does say something," Domonick added. "Although the ringleader, Jackson, had to have been the tallest and most muscular."
Stan sighed. "Never liked when he came to visit. Nothing's changed after twenty years."
Morgan nodded. "And...what happened?"
Amy remained silent.
Stan took this opportunity to clear his throat. Morgan instantly glared at him.
"I understand how much you want to know what happened, as well as catch up. Do me a favor and do all that in person."
"What are you saying, Stan?" Rossi asked.
"I'm going to email you an address. When you arrive at that address, the instructions as to how to get to us will be obvious. Do hurry."
Morgan narrowed his eyes. "How can we trust you?"
"I'll email it, then," Reid suggested.
Stan nodded. "As soon as you get his email, hurry over. I fear Amy cannot wait any longer."
"I can...wait as...long...as...necessary."
Domonick bit his lip. "Amy, you have broken ribs, a broken wrist, a serious head injury as well as already having a concussion, and have severe bruising to your throat. I think you need medical attention quickly."
Reid nodded. "Hurry, but with caution."
Stan sighed. "I'm going to end the call, get him to writing the email, then you have to get over here fast."
Hotch nodded. "Get to it."
Stan leaned forward, and soon the call ended.
A minute or two of silence passed before Garcia's inbox showed a new email.
"I'll forward it to your PDAs. Get going! Good luck! Bring them back alive!" Garcia cried as the team raced from the room.
Morgan quickly pulled out his PDA as soon as the email was sent. He knew the place. It was an abandoned industrial unit. A classic place to hide.
"Stan does aim for the theatrics," Rossi said before getting into his SUV.
"The SWAT team will meet us there!" JJ announced before ducking into the SUV with Hotch driving.
Prentiss and Morgan instantly jumped into the last one, and soon Morgan was rushing after the other two.
The race to rescue was on.