Thank you again to those who reviewed the last chapter! Your support is appreciated more than you know. This chapter was particularly heart-wrenching for me to write, but I'm fairly satisfied with how it turned out. Happy reading!

"A friend who dies, it's something of you who dies." –Gustave Flaubert

I round the corner and see her lying on the ground, a piece of wood piercing her skin, perpendicular to her body. Her breaths are shallow, and every small, involuntary movement of her body causes her to wince in pain. Blood seeps from the wound in her abdomen far too quickly, staining her shirt and the ground beneath her. Her hands are handcuffed above her wound, grasped together lightly. Her eyes are staring upward but are unfocused and have a look of emptiness about them. She looks so fragile and broken, a stark contrast to the strong and independent Emily I know. It's unnerving.

I'm not really cognizant of my own actions as I radio with my location and for a medic. Her eyes don't shift from the ceiling, and they remain unfocused and looking dangerously devoid of life.

"Prentiss?" I gently prompt as I kneel next to her.

"Morgan?" she says softly. So softly that it's almost inaudible. It's in a tone of disbelief, like she can't quite believe that we're here for her. Her gaze still doesn't shift from the ceiling, and her eyes don't focus on me.

"Hey, it's me. I'm right here. You're gonna be alright. Stay with me baby, c'mon stay with me," I beg and plead with her as I see the little remaining life draining from her with every passing second.

"Let me go," she utters, again almost inaudible. This time the tone is pleading. Her eyes finally meet mine and plead along with her tone for me to let her go. The effort seems to sap precious energy from her already weakening body. Her eyes close and do not open again. The tension in her limbs is subsiding. Not good signs.

"No. No, I am not letting you go," I say defiantly. "HELP ME!" I scream for the medic, for Hotch, for anyone.

"Listen to me. I know why you did all of this. I know what you did for Declan."

At his name her eyes open ever so slightly and she meets my gaze once more. Pain, sadness and regret swim in her dark eyes, and moisture begins to form in the corners.

"I am so proud of you. Do you understand that? I am proud of you because you are my friend and you are my partner," I hear my own voice wavering with emotion, and I can feel I'm close to breaking. But I can't afford to break. Not now.

Her eyes close again and I feel panic rise in my chest once more.

"No Emily, c'mon stay with me. If you can hear me please just squeeze my hand."

I feel a very weak squeeze and I move my other hand to cover hers. "Yes, there you go, there you go Emily. Just keep squeezing."

I see creases form on her forehead as she struggles to grasp my hands. The pressure from her intermittent squeezes is weaker with every passing second, and I can see the pain clearly on her face. A part of me shatters seeing her like this. The fear of losing her is overpowering, and I struggle to maintain a semblance of calm. We can't lose her, not after all of this. I can't lose her. The realization is overwhelming.

Somewhere along the way she had shifted from colleague, to partner, to friend, to... something else. Life without Emily Prentiss was destined to be a life tinged with regret and things that could have been. And it's a life I'm hell-bent on preventing from ever happening.

The medic finally rounds the corner, and his eyes widen as he takes in the sight of a table leg protruding ominously from her. A professional determination enters his eyes though, and he radios in to his partner to prepare various medical procedures that I'm not familiar with.

"Agent, I need to you to let go," his choice of words could not be poorer in light of Emily's previous plea. "I need to try and stabilize her. I need space to work. You can be right here, but you need to move out of the way."

I reluctantly let go of her hands, but step quickly to her other side, staying close, hoping she can feel my presence. The medic sets to work with various instruments and tools, but my eyes never leave her.

Moments pass and there's chatter I don't really hear over our radios. I gently push stray strands of hair out of her face, and cup her dangerously pale face with my hand. Her eyes flutter open briefly at my touch, and I wonder if just maybe that's enough to keep her here with us. Soon they're wheeling her into the ambulance and I jump into the back without giving it a second thought.

I grasp her hands with my own once more, giving them a gentle squeeze. To remind her I'm still here. To remind her she needs to hang on. There is no response from her this time. The journey to the hospital seems long. Too long. I feel us navigate through traffic and around corners, the wail of the siren echoing in my ears.

I choke back a sob as I hear the warning sound from the machine. She's letting go. All tension leaves her body, and that buzz that normally radiates off a living body dissipates quickly. "No! Emily, don't let go. Stay with me. Please. Hold on a little longer. C'mon Em. Please."

Tears are streaming down my face now. The medic's hands are moving around quickly, trying to save her life. I send a silent prayer to whoever might be listening to save her, because she doesn't deserve this ending.

Excruciatingly long seconds pass with no signs of life, and I feel that panic bloom in my chest once more.

"EMILY!" I yell at her forcefully, willing her to come back. "You can't leave us. You can't leave me! I need you. C'MON PRINCESS, FIGHT!"

Maybe it was the actions of the medic, maybe it was divine intervention, or maybe it was me appealing to her stubbornness, but whatever it was, it brought her back. Her eyes flutter, but do not open as she struggles to remain here. The medic exhales and asks the driver for an ETA. 2 minutes. 2 very long minutes.

I move one hand up to gently caress her cheek, and before I knew what I was doing I lower my head and press a gentle kiss on her forehead, "Don't leave me, Princess. Please."

It comes out in a whisper so quiet the medic sitting within an arm's reach of me doesn't hear it.

We reach the hospital after two more life-saving procedures are performed, and I'm left standing outside the ambulance, the doors to the emergency room wide open in front of me. I see her being wheeled quickly down the hall. I can't seem to make my feet move. I hear a screech of tires and moments later the presence of a body next to mine. JJ takes my arm and guides me to the waiting room. She mutters something about the team being 10 minutes out. She meets my gaze and must have seen the brokenness in my eyes, because she wraps her arms around me and finally I break.

I break the embrace, wiping my eyes just as the rest of the team files in. JJ excuses herself to speak with the nurses, and promises to return with an update when she has one. The rest of the team settles into the uncomfortable seats. Garcia grabs my hand and I can feel her shaking. With one deep breath I push my emotion to the back and focus on being strong for her, for them.

Hours pass, with no news and no sign of JJ. Reid is pacing, Hotch is staring stoically at the wall, and Rossi continually murmurs a prayer. Seaver sits, seemingly devoid of emotion, while Garcia struggles to maintain a hold on her tears.

I hear the footsteps before anyone else, and I raise my gaze from the floor. She doesn't need to speak, her demeanour gives it away, but she does anyway.

"She never made it off the table."

With just seven words I feel my heart break painfully, and emptiness take hold. I stare in disbelief. Emily Prentiss was gone. Forever.

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