Chapter 16

Please Amy! Help me!

The piercing scream rang through her ears for what felt like hours. There were new noises every once in a while- a siren, a man's voice, what sounded like a horn- but the desperate plea replayed on a seemingly constant loop in the Marshal's head. Now, as she slowly opened her eyes and tried to adjust to the blinding light, Amy Cavil realized what it meant. Bolting upright, she slapped and shoved arms that attempted to hold her down away, chestnut hair whipping about wildly as she did so. There were voices- unfamiliar voices- that begged her to stop and calm down but she didn't listen.

"Agent Cavil, you have to relax!" A sharp, female voice ordered. The woman's face and bright, blonde hair faded in and out of view as Amy struggled to hold onto a single image. Her head throbbed violently, the pounding making a single thought or sight send shocking waves of pain to the rest of her aching body.

"Leila. Adam." The woman panted, her grip impossibly tight on the lead surgeon's arm. The older woman stared deep into Amy's dark eyes, forcing her back onto the bed slowly as she attempted to calm the frantic agent.

"Amy," the doctor said, "you have to slow your heart rate. You've been in an accident."

This wasn't an accident, Amy!

"No," Amy shook her head slowly, begin to settle on the bed she had been placed in, "not an accident." The woman above her seemed to frown but Amy couldn't be certain. Her vision continued to blur without her consent every few seconds. As the blonde waited for her to lay down, Amy released her arm and brought it to her head. She felt a thick bandage that wrapped around her skull and immediately regretted pressing on it to alleviate the pain. Her hand traveled to her left arm which had been almost completely encased in a cast.

"Careful now," the doctor gently removed Amy's hand, "you've taken quite a beating. You'll only hurt yourself if you move around too much."

"Leila and Adam." Amy repeated, slightly more lucid now. She carefully watched the doctor's face contort as she briefly averted her gaze.

"Amy, I'm sorry but your partner was found dead at the scene. There was no one else there." Amy's heart monitor accelerated immediately at hearing the words. Her mouth was as dry as sand as she opened it and tried to form a sentence.

"No," she breathed, "he…he survived. He got out. He was going to get help and…and…"

"He was shot, Amy." The doctor explained. "Someone shot him while he was trying to help the third passenger out of your vehicle."

"No." she repeated, swallowing hard as she clenched her hands into tight fists. "No, he's not dead. I would know if he was dead. I would feel it." She placed a hand against her chest, willing her heart to remain whole but knowing it was a lost cause.

"I'm sorry." The blonde repeated, offering the woman a soft shoulder squeeze as she backed away, leaving the agent alone to grieve. Amy stared at the spot the woman had just occupied for what felt like hours. Adam wasn't dead. He couldn't be. They had just admitted their feelings for one another- just started forming a life that Amy had dreamed of for years together. Hot tears fell down her face, startling the agent as they did. She turned her head slowly, staring at the rain that pattered against the large window as she understood the depth of her failure. Adam was gone and Leila would soon follow all because she couldn't do her job. The guilt, sadness, and anger piled on until it felt like a boulder sitting on her chest. Ignoring the harrowing pain in her left side, Amy began to force herself to her feet. She yanked out every wire she could find, barely feeling the sting as the puncture wounds bled, and reached for the evidence bag that contained her clothes. As soon as the heart monitor flat lined, nurses poured in followed by the doctor Amy had just spoken to. The older woman ushered the others back, knowing that Amy was not in a state to be trifled with.

"Amy?" she said cautiously. "What are you doing?" The agent ignored her as she began dressing herself, wincing in pain at every movement. When Amy saw that the blouse she had been wearing was no longer usable, she turned to the doctor.

"I need a new shirt." She all but demanded.

"You can't leave." The blonde insisted. "You have a serious concussion, several broken ribs, a lacerated shoulder and collarbone, and a fractured wrist. You'll only make-"

"Either bring me a shirt or I walk out of here like this." Amy stared down the woman in nothing but her bloodied dress pants and black bra. "He has her and I have to find her. It's my job."

"We've already called the local police." The doctor tried to explain. "They'll be here any minute and you can explain what happened to-"

"The police?" Amy snorted. "They're not nearly well-equipped enough to handle this case, doctor. Now I need a shirt and a phone, not necessarily in that order. Please." As the agent's eyes bore into her, the doctor couldn't help but feel sympathy for the woman. God knows what she was feeling after losing her partner and her charge all in one day not to mention the fact that she must be in excruciating, physical pain.

"Alright, alright, just sit down at least." She began removing her coat and handed it to the half naked woman. "I'll find you some scrubs and you can use my cell phone, just please let me finish examining you when I get back." Amy nodded, practically snatching the phone out of the woman's hands the second it was offered. As the doctor left, she began dialing the number she had memorized months ago. It rang twice before a grim, deep voice picked up.

"Hotchner." At hearing the man's voice, Amy froze. How was she going to explain this? "Hello? Who is this?"

"Agent Hotchner, it's Amy Cavil from the Marshals." She began, her heart beating exceedingly fast as she dreaded her next words.

"Agent Cavil? We were told you were in the hospital." Amy frowned, unsure how he had already heard about the incident.

"I am." She confirmed. "I just wanted to let you know that…Leila she's…"

"We know." Hotchner's voice was low. "We're sorry to hear about your partner. He was a great agent." Amy's throat constricted at the thought of Adam. She cleared it quickly before responding.

"Thank you. I'm…I'm sorry too."

"You did everything you could and almost lost your life in the process. Rest assured, no one blames you for what happened." While it was a relief to hear, Amy wasn't sure it was completely true.

"Are you on your-" Amy's question was cut off by a ruckus outside. Suddenly, the door to her room burst open and a petite woman with short, dark hair made a bee line for her.

"You," the woman practically snarled, "you were supposed to protect her." Amy's confusion was forgotten as the woman grabbed the collar of the lab coat she was wearing and forced her back into the wall. The lighter haired woman gasped in pain and dropped the phone she had been holding.

"Let her go!" a strange man appeared and tried to pry the woman off of her but Amy couldn't help but stare into those crazed, blue eyes. They were so familiar.

"You were supposed to protect her and now she's gone! He has her because of you!" the woman cried as she shook her, tears forming in those azure orbs Amy had grown to recognize.

"You," Amy stuttered, partially because of the pain but mostly from confusion, "you're Jennifer. Jennifer Jareau. You're Leila's sister." The phrase was almost a question as Amy watched the fire in the woman's eyes begin to dissipate at the mention of her sister's name. Eventually, the formerly deceased FBI agent let go and Amy released a breath she hadn't realize she was holding as she wrapped her uninjured arm around herself.

"I am." The woman confirmed, a frown still etched upon her features as she swallowed hard. Taking in Amy's disheveled appearance and state of undress, she averted her eyes and crossed her arms defensively. Amy took the opportunity to button up the lab coat as the two stood in silence.

"I'm Agent Paul Wells with the Marshals." The man finally introduced himself, extending a hand. Amy shook it awkwardly, unsure as to what was going on. "I've been keeping watch of Agent Jareau since the attempt on her life. When we got word that Parilla had surfaced again, she insisted we come home."

"Home?" Amy asked, knowing that the woman resided in D.C with her sister and not in the New Mexico desert.

"We've been in Canada for the past four months." Wells explained. "I figured getting her out of the country was our safest bet."

"Right." Amy nodded once, wishing she had thought of that regardless of how much paperwork it would've been.

"Agent Jareau and I will wait outside while you get settled. We have much to discuss before the rest of the BAU arrives." Wells told her as he exited. Amy couldn't help but sneak another glance at the older woman, taking in her small frame and almost delicate appearance. She played with her hair as if the length was something she had yet to grown accustomed to and Amy distinctly remembered that Agent Jareau was a natural blonde. The dark hair seemed foreign and awry on her. Jareau herself seemed uncomfortable in her own skin as she finally risked eye contact with her.

"I'm…I'm sorry if I hurt you." She said softly. "I didn't mean what I said. It's just that when I-"

"Please, you have nothing to explain." Amy insisted, her head dropping low. "I'm the one who should be apologizing. You were right- this is my fault."

"No." Jareau's tone was flat, leaving no room for argument. "This is Parilla's fault and this time, he's not getting away with it. We're going to punish him for what he did to your partner." Another mention of Adam had the younger woman in tears almost immediately. "You were…close?" Amy nodded slowly, watching the woman for any signs of judgement or anger. She saw none. Jareau merely nodded her understanding and turned her back to leave. As the woman closed the door behind her, Amy picked up the forgotten phone and noticed that the call was still active.

"Agent Hotchner?" she said, unsure as to whether he was actually still there. It didn't take long to receive a response from the man who had undoubtedly heard the entire episode.

"I'm still here. She's right, Agent Cavil. We're on our way now and we won't stop until that man is dealt with." Amy didn't miss the malice in his voice or his choice of words. 'Dealt with' not 'in prison' or 'behind bars'. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of killing Jeremy Parilla herself. While she had never imagined hurting anyone before, the image did not repulse her in the slightest. As she suppressed her feelings of rage, she sat back down and watched her doctor reappear with the set of scrubs she had promised.

"Agent Hotchner, just promise me one thing." Amy said. "You'll let me help you."

"It would be our genuine pleasure." Thanking every deity she could think of, Amy concluded the call and handed the phone back to its owner. The doctor shot her a questioning look as she proceeded to examine her but Amy ignored it. Her only thoughts were of Jeremy Parilla and how he had made the worst mistake of his life by taking the love of hers.