Title: 5 Senses and a concussion
Author: FreeWrite
Disclaimer: I don't own anything Criminal Minds related and am not making any money off this.
Summary: She'd cleared the buildings and was running down the steps when the explosives went off and pieces of flaming buildings were raining down on them. The last thing she saw before losing consciousness was Hotch running towards her
Spoilers: This is set during season 4's Minimal Loss but there are references to season 6 and the Doyle arc.
AN: **Waves awkwardly** Yes it's been a while, I have no reasons nor excuses. Writing hasn't been an issue. Finishing a story has and I don't like posting WIP's. Moving on, when Evolution was released, I decided to do a rewatch of all of Criminal Minds and this popped out.
At absolute minimum she had bruised ribs, a mild concussion and needed a large number of stitches.
Benjamin Cyrus hadn't pulled his punches as he 'punished' her for what he perceived her sins to be.
Emily had known from the moment Cyrus pointed the gun at them whatever happened next would not be pleasant. She and Reid had quietly discussed their profiles of the ranch leader.
A hebephile who only saw one use for females… who discarded them as soon as they aged out of his preference.
Emily knew she didn't have a hope of connecting with him, Cyrus saw no value in her so she gave herself up.
She dug deep and called on years of training and experience and took the beating without fighting back.
12 hours later, she was leading the women and children out through the tunnels. She'd cleared the buildings and was running down the steps when the explosives went off and pieces of flaming buildings were raining down on them.
The last thing she saw before losing consciousness was Hotch running towards her…
Touch
Mel Jones woke to feel strange hands grasping gently at her rib cage and promptly panicked.
It was more than the hands, it was the red and blue flashing lights she could see through closed eyelids, the sounds of sirens filling the air, the smell of burning… wood, metal… flesh!
Without thinking she lifted her left arm and lashed out with a hard strike at whomever was kneeling by her side. The fact that she was barely conscious meant there was very little power to it and her fist barely clipped the jaw of the blonde woman who was leaning over her.
Attempting to push herself upright in the few seconds the punch had brought her was a bad idea as before she even had a chance to get off the floor her vision greyed out again.
The last thing she heard before the world went black was "well she's alive and punching"
Smell
Clarissa Merchant had seen it all. She'd been running arms into Kosovo for over a year, making contacts within the KLA. The only stake in this particular conflict that she had was the money she was making.
Emily Prentiss was carefully locked away in a little box, observing everything and gathering intel.
It was the way she kept it all straight and coped. Each of her NOC's had their own little box and she was constantly refining the process for pulling them out and putting them back away.
So when she woke to the smell of burning everything Clarissa wasn't phased…Lapušnik had hardened her against it.
What was more disconcerting was just how much pain she was in. Clarissa didn't get her hands dirty, didn't get involved. She dropped the current order off, collected her fee and moved on to the next job and the last thing she remembered was heading East towards Bulgaria. So to wake up in a place that looked like the war zone Kosovo was and smelt like a battlefield and feeling like she'd just been spat out of hell was incredibly disorientating.
The severe man, scowling down at her, worry written all over his face threw her as well.
He wasn't one of her crew, she knew that much. The buttoned up shirt and tie was definitely out of place in this warzone. Combatants generally stuck to fatigues or BDU's… few of the locals would dare wear anything that made them stand out and even fewer could afford them these days.
She blinked against the smoke and light and focussed on thin lips that were saying something. It took another couple of tries before she managed to filter out all the other sounds and grasp his voice.
"Prentiss… Emily…" he tried when she just looked confused.
"Who…" she managed to croak out hoping the panic at hearing that name wasn't showing through on her face.
That name belonged to a ghost sitting at a desk in St Louis… not in a field somewhere in the Baltics.
"Prentiss, look at me…" he waved 2 fingers in front of her eyes, trying to get her to focus on him.
"Get off me asshole…" she pushed his hand away weakly "I don't know any fucking Prentiss."
Hotch gently grabbed her wrist and made what he hoped was the right decision "I'm sorry, you look a lot like a friend of mine…" he felt her relax minutely "You've been unconscious… can you tell me your name, the date and where we are?"
Hotch didn't know exactly what to think. He'd been running towards Emily, trying to get to his injured agent when the compound blew and he'd been helpless to do anything as shrapnel rained down around her, a piece had struck her in the head and she'd crumpled to the ground unconscious.
As one of the worst injured, he'd directed the paramedics to her first but when she'd come around swinging he'd done a quick inventory of the team… Reid and Morgan had caught the edges of the explosion as well and needed medical attention. JJ is 7 months pregnant and was already as close to the compound as she was allowed. That left himself and Dave to clean up. Not wanting Emily to come around again without someone she knew, he made the decision to put Dave in charge of the scene and he would stay with Emily.
A panicking, injured FBI agent could potentially do a lot of damage to unsuspecting paramedics.
He could tell as soon as she woke something was seriously wrong. The lack of recognition and the denial of her name…
"Clarissa Merchant… March 1998… and last I remember Bulgaria." She lied about the location.
He noted the details in case he needed Garcia to go digging later. Deep down in his gut, a suspicion flared back to life. One he'd nurtured in her first few months with the team, but let die when she resigned instead of informing on the team to Strauss.
Where Emily had been before the BAU hadn't mattered anymore. She was smart, hardworking and loyal.
He watched closely as brown eyes darted from side to side, trying to see what was happening around her.
He watched her breathe in deeply through her nose, nostrils flaring slightly as though she was scenting the air.
Interestingly, there was no sign of Emily's two major tell's. No chewing on her lower lip, no breath being forced out between pursed lips. If what he was beginning to suspect was true, Clarissa Merchant most likely had completely different ones.
Raising a hand up to try and massage her pounding head, Clarissa paused at the blood spattered pale blue sleeve.
That was wrong, she'd been wearing a black turtleneck under her heavy winter coat.
The material didn't make sense either. It was light cotton or linen, she couldn't tell in this light. She should be freezing, it shouldn't be more than 40 or 50 degrees outside and yet she was lying here, staring at the stars almost uncomfortably warm.
As Clarissa was about to question their true location, her vision started to grey around the edges again.
The last thing she took in was the smell of the serious mans sweat and aftershave as he leaned over her calling her name.
Sound
The first thing Gwen Llachlan could positively identify was two separate voices. A man and a woman…
The second thing was she was moving and her stomach dropped as a wave of nausea hit her with the force of… something really strong.
Brown eyes flew open and her head flew to the side. Fortunately the female by her side had seen this more times than she wanted to count and yelled at her companion to help her roll Gwen onto her side as she grabbed a bag to hopefully catch the vomit.
As her body convulsed to expel what was in her stomach, pain exploded across her chest, back and head.
Whatever had happened to her was bad…
Large hands supported her shoulder and hip, holding the backboard she was strapped to steadily in place until there was nothing coming out of her stomach.
"Ok… roll her back gently on 3…" the female voice was soft but sure "1… 2… 3…" her stomach rolled again as she attempted to focus on the ceiling above her. The white metal, coupled with the movement confirmed she was in an ambulance.
Strangely enough, she was pretty sure she was somewhere in the US. That did not make sense at all.
A face popped into her line of sight. Green eyes and dark blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun. The face was utterly unfamiliar…
"Hey there…" her voice was soft and calm "You've taken quite a few hits and have been unconscious for quite a while… can you give me your name, the date and a location?"
The medics' eyes flickered to the other person in the back of the ambulance. Agent Hotchner had been insistent she ask these questions as soon as the injured agent woke up again and she completely understood why.
The poor woman had had no idea who, where or when she was.
"Gwen…" she whispered "23rdish September 2000 and the back of an ambulance…
Hotch's eyes widened in surprise, but he managed to school his expression in time for Emily to turn her head and look at him. Brown eyes squinting in confusion, at the filthy bullet proof vest emblazoned with FBI on it.
Why would an American paramedic and an FBI agent be in Sydney?
Had she missed something? Was there an attack at one of the events? There had been nothing to indicate there was a threat at the Olympics. Her team had been deployed there after finally wrapping up a nightmarish 2 years working in the Baltics. It was supposed to be a relaxing couple of weeks of attending the games, watching the events and being available just in case.
She'd been watching the rowing, enjoying the sun. Clyde seated next to her, just a couple of tourists.
"Where's Gareth?" she murmured without thinking.
"Who's Gareth?" the man asked gently
"He's…" she paused and squeezed her eyes shut against the pounding in her head "my cousin" she stuck to the cover "we came to the games together"
"Games" out of Emily's sight the paramedic mouthed.
Hotch simply nodded and added the information to the profile he was building in his head. He didn't like the picture that was slowly coming into focus. If his guess was correct, her bureau history was a backstop and he was getting a glimpse of covers she'd had.
What the hell had she been doing in Bulgaria in the late 90's? This stank of CIA but could wait… he wasn't sure whether to be more worried about Emily's head injury or the reddish tinge to the vomit.
"We're pulling in now" the driver called from the front seat.
Hotch sighed in relief and when the ambulance pulled to a stop he followed the gurney out of the vehicle and into the emergency room proper as the paramedic quickly and concisely passed on the pertinent information to the doctors.
Gwen frowned and as her vision greyed out the last things she heard really really confused her.
"Female, late 30's, blunt force trauma to stomach, back and head. LOC and major cognitive impacts…"
She wasn't in her late 30's…
Taste
Blood and vomit… that was all Lauren Reynolds could taste as she struggled back into consciousness.
What the hell had Ian gotten her into now?
Brown eyes slowly blinked open to a room bathed in sunlight. In the seat next to her bed a man she didn't recognise sat. She let her eyes slide mostly closed to give her a chance to work out what was really going on.
"Thanks Garcia" he spoke into a cell phone, keeping his face tilted away from her. " We'll know more once she wakes up. There's nothing we can do but wait and see… I'll update you as soon as I know anything. Let me know what you find on those names I gave you."
She continues to watch as he hangs up the phone, and immediately dials another.
"Hey Dave… yeah bruised and cracked ribs, minor lacerations in her stomach, fractured nose, I lost count of the stitches and there's swelling on the temporal lobe… they won't even give me an educated guess at this point… ok… yes… yes… no I'll call the Federal Prosecutor myself… tell JJ to stick with no comment, if the locals want to give a statement they can…."
Panic started to bubble up at the mention of a federal prosecutor but she quickly stamped it down.
She needed to get to a phone and quickly.
If she was in Federal custody there was a good chance Ian was as well and if Ian wasn't… we'll they really didn't need him storming a hospital in an attempt to get her out.
Why the hell wasn't one of her team there? Did they not know where she was?
She kept her eyes cracked as the Agent hung up the phone and stood to stretch. Allowing him to leave her sight in order to keep up the pretence of being unconscious and buy herself some time to come up with a plan.
Her ears flickered when the tell tale swish of a curtain opening and closing sounded and when there was no further movement detectable in her immediate vicinity Lauren opened her eyes fully and finally got a good look at the cubicle she was in.
Before she could do anything, the curtain opened to allow what she assumed was a Doctor and Nurse in.
"Nice to finally see you awake" the Doctor picked up her chat and flipped through it. Out of her line of sight, Hotch stood watching. He'd seen her eyes open and then drop mostly closed again and had known she was feigning still being unconscious. That told him straight away they wouldn't be dealing with Emily Prentiss.
Who she was this time remained to be seen.
"First things first, can you tell me your name, the date and the President?"
"Lauren Reynolds, uhhh 15ish June 2003 and Carlo Azeglio Ciampi."
He pulled his phone back out and texted Garcia.
Lauren Reynolds June 2003
He wasn't sure if Garcia would be able to find anything. There was next to nothing on Clarissa Merchant, admittedly given that Emily had thought she was in Bulgaria it would take a call to Interpol to get any information and he wasn't ready to take that step.
It wouldn't surprise him if there was a flag attached to those names and there was already something in the works. He would be getting a phone call or possibly even a visit in person from someone very soon.
Emily was currently a massive risk to whatever operations she'd been involved in before the BAU. It was one of the reasons he'd decided to accompany her to the hospital himself.
If there were ongoing security concerns, he could try to minimise any damage her head injury would cause.
Hotch's eyes flickered back and forth as he tried to work out why the name she had given was familiar.
Carlo Ciampi may have been President somewhere.
Less than a minute later his phone pinged with a response.
President of Italy from 99 to 06.
So far he had 3 different identities in 3 different countries.
He continued to watch as the Doctor ran her through a number of cognitive exams. It was a relief when she passed all the other checks.
Meanwhile, Lauren was still trying to understand what was happening. She wasn't cuffed or restrained in any way, the medical staff were showing absolutely no fear of her and the only law enforcement was the man who she was pretty sure was standing just out of her sight.
It was an interesting tactic. What she hadn't worked out yet was how much he knew.
None of it changed the fact that she needed to get out of here and get in touch with her team.
Lauren took the chance to glance over the cubicle she was in. In the corner are two black bags, if she could get 30 seconds without being watched she could get an idea of what she was working with. Her opportunity came sooner than expected when the nurse closed the curtains behind her. Pushing herself upright, she breathed through the sharp pain that was running from her head to hips… at least her legs were working.
The first bag revealed mens clothes and underwear along with a clutch piece that she took. The second one had a womens suit, Lauren didn't think too much about the fact that they were her exact size.
To save time, she skipped attempting to find underwear and pulled the black pants on and the blouse.
Knowing it would be quieter with bare feet, Lauren lifted the shoes and slipped a pair of socks in the pants pocket. One last check gave her a fistful of cash… hopefully enough to get a motel room for her to hole up in.
As she slipped out the other side of the curtain, a wallet with FBI credentials and her face flipped open in the bag.
Derek Morgan was finally pulling up to the hospital with Reid sleeping in the back and JJ in the front when his phone rang.
"Hotch man, any news?" he hit the speaker so the other two could hear.
"She's gone…" Hotch was standing in an empty cubicle "All those injuries and she managed to get out of bed, into clothes and sneak past multiple people… and it was in the minute or so I was talking to the Doctor."
"So she might still be in the building?" The three of them pushed their way out of the car just in time to see a very familiar brunette stumble out of the doors.
"I've got eyes on her Hotch. How are we handling this?" Morgan leaned against the car door and kept Emily in his sight.
"Delicately… '' Hotch ordered "she won't recognise you so if you do approach you can't do it as a friend and teammate…" he paused and thought for a moment "just follow her for now. The last thing we need is her panicking and trying to fight us. I'm on my way out now."
He hung up just in time for his phone to ring again.
"Garcia, anything?"
"Uh, kinda…" he could hear the cringe in Garcia's voice.
"Aaron, I'm here with Sean McCallister from Interpol" Erin Strauss did not sound happy.
"Agent McCallister, how can I help you?"
"Agent Hotchner, you can stop instructing your analyst to do searches on things that have nothing to do with the BAU."
It has been by absolute chance that Sean was in DC to brief a team.
"I would but I have a team member with a severe head injury and every time she wakes she thinks she's a different person. Currently she's under the impression that it's 2003 and her name is Lauren Reynolds. Prior to that she gave the names Gwen and Clarissa Merchant and at this very moment she's left the hospital and has no idea where she actually is. I very much doubt this particular agent has been hiding or has undiagnosed DiD."
"Shit… stop the searches, I'll fill you in on what I can, which isn't much to be honest and I can't do it over the phone" Sean sighed "she'll be looking for two things. A safe place to hole up and a way to contact her team. Do not, I repeat do not try to bring her in using subterfuge. She's too good of a profiler and too damn good an operative for that to work."
"What would you suggest we do then?" Strauss asked, masking her irritation. The events at liberty ranch were being spun as a huge win for the bureau and she didn't want anything interfering with the positive PR.
"Try and keep a tail on her. I'm going to make a couple of calls and make sure the number she calls will be active so I can set up a meet location with her. I'll be getting on the next flight to Colorado. Give me 20 minutes and I'll call you back."
Without a word Sean strode out of Garcia's lair, dialling a number from memory.
In the 20 minutes it took McCallister to call him back, Hotch had caught up to Morgan and Reid who were following Emily on foot while JJ was circling them in the SUV just in case.
How she was still upright and moving baffled him. The human mind and body was able to accomplish amazing things, they'd all seen that before.
Just as his phone rang Emily slipped into a phone booth and made her own phone call.
Lauren had lost track of time… still unsure of exactly where she was she hoped she'd managed to get far enough away from any followers to safely make contact with someone.
Spying a pay phone she sighed in relief and slipped inside dialling a number call collect.
She slumped in relief when a familiar voice answered.
"Hello?"
"Troy, Troy, Troy. I need immediate assistance…" The distress phrase had amused her when Clyde had picked it for this mission.
"Are you secure and mobile?"
"No and on foot…"
"Hold…"
Lauren waited impatiently for Lyle to come back on the line.
"There's a motel 6 blocks east, The Durango South. Ask for Laurence, he's booked a room for you and is inbound to your location. ETA 4 hours"
The call was terminated and Lauren took a deep breath. 6 blocks, she could make it 6 blocks.
Taking a moment to squint up at the sun, she shrugged and gave up trying to work out which direction east was. She ducked into the convenience store across the road and out again with a map, a bottle of water and some trail mix in hand.
Down the block, Hotch was on the phone with Sean.
"Did you catch all that? Get one of your team to that motel first to book her a room and take over the front desk when she gets there. Once she's in the room she won't leave until I get there unless there's a direct threat."
"Understood…" Hotch took McCallisters final statement to mean Emily would see the team as a threat. "We'll monitor but won't approach"
A quick call to JJ and Hotch was in the SUV and they were heading towards the motel, leaving Morgan and Reid to watch over Emily.
"What's really going on Hotch?" JJ asked quietly once they had managed to convince the manager to let JJ take over desk duty once Emily arrived.
"Once I've worked it out I'll let you know…" he huffed. He couldn't keep all the details from the team, yet there wasn't much he could say either. It was one thing to say Emily was disoriented but another to reveal everything given how classified it must all be.
"Not long after she joined the unit, you asked how none of this bothered her."
"She claimed to compartmentalise better than most." JJ would never forget that night in Georgia or the days that followed. "I didn't fully buy it at the time… and neither did you"
"No I didn't, I think we're getting a glimpse at why she coped so well when she first joined" hopefully JJ would put enough pieces together to not ask anymore questions.
On comms Morgan and Reid listened to the conversation without comment. Each coming to their own similar conclusions.
"Hotch, I think she's finally stopped trying to shake any tails. She's a block away and headed straight for the motel."
"Thanks Reid, JJ is in place"
They'd booked 2 rooms. One at the very end of the line, and the one right next to it. JJ would be in the room next door listening for any signs of distress while the others took positions hidden outside watching just in case.
A text message popped through to Hotch's phone
Scene handed over, I'm on my way. Location?
He replied with the motel address and an instruction to meet out of sight of the room Emily would be in.
A quick check of the time showed Agent McCallister was 3 hours out. Medically, this was the absolute worst thing that could be happening. Emily should not be out of bed, let alone wandering through downtown Durango. She should be hooked up to an IV, surrounded by medical personnel just in case.
Doted on by the team while she healed enough to travel.
His breath hitched as Emily unsteadily pushed her way through the door to reception. Her skin had taken on a pale, chalky pallor, the bruises and cuts vivid. One arm was wrapped protectively against what had to be incredibly painful ribs.
What really struck him was her eyes. Instead of their usual sharp intelligence, they were glazed over with pain and confusion.
A lot of things about Emily Prentiss were starting to make sense.
'I can take it'
Outside Morgan and Reid were already in position, Hotch was planning on planting himself right outside the door once she was safely inside.
He wasn't naive, the chances of them being given details by Emily or anyone else were slim to none. If NOC's were involved and the level of backstopping that had to have been done to get her back into the mainstream bureau told him whatever agency she'd been with and assignments she'd been on were so highly classified he wouldn't be given clearance to know.
"She's in the room, Hotch." Reids voice floated through the comms.
"Ok, Morgan, take the back. Reid I want you around the side, JJ will be in the room next door and I'll be outside watching the front. Rossi should be here soon, I'll get him to float. Make sure you have eyes on Emily's room at all times but try to keep out of her sight."
45 minutes passed, Rossi arrived with little fanfare and frowned when Hotch explained what little he knew.
"I've never been a fan of the more shadowy parts of law enforcement…" Dave mused "and if you'd asked me yesterday I would have scoffed at the idea of Emily working for one of them… and then I would have stopped to think about it." Dave paused "Just like I've been doing for the last hour or so and the more I think about the possibility the more it makes sense and I'm not just talking about Emily's compartmentalisation skills."
"Her first day with the team, she translated written arabic on the fly…" Hotch mused "said she'd lived in several middle eastern countries growing up and while it's true…"
"It's a skill and you wouldn't retain that level of competence from childhood without constant practice." Dave finished for him.
"Exactly…" Without another word, Dave left Hotch to watch the motel room door and went to keep Reid company.
By the time the taxi containing Sean McCallister arrived the sun had nearly set.
The Scot regarded Hotch carefully, taking in the exhaustion and worry. Sean was well aware the BAU was coming off a 48 hour hostage crisis and to have Emily's past poking its head up in a way that was out of everyone's control was leaving its mark.
"I'm guessing I need to talk her out of the room and back to the hospital?" Sean kept his voice low.
"And hang around until we're sure we have Emily Prentiss back with us permanently" Hotch muttered.
"It's a good thing Clyde is on his way then." Sean turned to stare at the room door not even realising he'd spoken out loud.
"Who?" Hotch asked.
Shaking himself and swearing under his breath, Sean paused and quickly thought through the ramifications of what he was about to reveal.
"Clyde and Emily worked together from 97 to 2004, I've only known Emily since early 02. I just happened to be closer, but he's on his way now."
Hotch nodded his understanding, Sean would only be helpful if they were still dealing with Lauren.
"Right then, better get on with it. Can one of your team drive us back to the hospital once I get her indoors sorted?"
Hotch beckoned Rossi over "this is SSA Dave Rossi. She's already seen me and I don't know if she'll recognise any of the others from when they were tailing her."
Once hands were shaken and pleasantries exchanged, Dave and Sean went out to the SUV Dave had driven in and pulled it up to the room.
"Just wait, I'll bring her out"
They both saw the curtains twitch. As Sean opened the door and slid out of the car, Dave kept his face as neutral as possible, just in case Emily could see him.
The door opened as Sean approached and the sight was not a pretty one. While they'd been on the Valhalla case, she'd occasionally turn up to intel drops with bumps and bruises but nothing like this.
Once Sean was right in front of her he reached out and cupped her shoulder gently "You guys slipped out of Europe a couple of days ago and It took us a while to catch up. Apparently the FBI had an unrelated operation going that you and Doyle got caught up in, everything went to shit and someone set off the ordinance you were selling. He's in custody and you need to be back in the hospital." he whispered.
"I'm done Sean…" Emily's bottom lip trembled slightly "I need to get out…"
"Whatever you want" he guided her to the car.
She managed to stay awake for the car ride back to the hospital and being readmitted.
This time they took her straight to a private room, once the IV was back in and Sean was guarding the door she let herself drift back to sleep.
The last thing she tasted was the ice chips the nurse offered when she complained about being thirsty.
Sight
The first thing Emily Prentiss saw when she woke up was a halo of bright blonde hair sitting by the window, knitting needles clacking away.
Letting her gritty eyes slide closed again, Emily gave herself a moment to take stock. Her head, ribs and stomach all had a dull burn to them. Either she was on the shit painkillers or her injuries were bad enough to burn through them.
When she shifted slightly, the scraping of 2 chairs made her open her eyes once again. This time two blondes were staring down at her.
What the hell was Clyde Easter doing in the same room as Penelope Garcia?
End