𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘. ( 𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐤 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐧 )

chapter twenty-three

TW: mention of cannibalism, mention of gun violence, mild gore, mention of medical procedures and fatal injuries, mild language, stalking

penelope, part one of one.

"keep looking up. that's the secret of life. " - charlie brown.

-

The latest case had come to a horrifying end - the killer, who had cannibalistic tendencies, had used the flesh of one of his victims to feed to the volunteer group who was looking for the victim. They had caught him alive, but not before Garcia and Derek got into a huge fight after the former had met a guy in a coffee shop, who Derek didn't like the sound of. Genevieve had just returned from her suspension and was deskbound for two months and was currently in a wheelchair due to her fractured pelvis. She had been living with Garcia and been working alongside the blonde in her bat cave, so had witnessed the entire fight, but did her level best to stay uninvolved.

Mostly out of spite towards Derek, Garcia had called her coffee shop guy (who's name was Colby), and arranged a dinner date for later that night. So, Genevieve was now at Garcia's apartment alone, her wheelchair parked on the tiny balcony while she closed her eyes, trying to wash her mind of everything that she had heard about in the past twenty-four hours. Garcia was on a dinner date with her coffee shop guy, and was due to be back any minute now. Her eyes flew open when she heard a gunshot.

Despite being incapacitated, she was out of the apartment in a flash, grabbing her badge from the kitchen counter. She got out of the apartment and into the elevator as fast as she could. The elevator finally hit the ground floor (which, based on the sound, was where the shot had come from), and wheeled herself outside to see a bloodied Garcia sprawled on the stairs leading to the foyer of the building, one of her neighbours crouched over her. The sounds of sirens were distant.

Genevieve gasped and pushed herself over as close as she could without going for a tumble down the stairs.

"Is she awake?" She asked, a hand clapped over her mouth as she whipped out her phone to call the first person on speed-dial. The neighbour shook her head, as an ambulance and fuzz cruiser pulled up outside the apartment.

Genevieve could barely hear any of the shouting as her eyes pooled with tears at the sight of her friend limp and bloody on the ground, her hand shaking as she begged silently for the line to pick up. Derek's cell went straight to voicemail. She cursed silently, and instead, opted for Hotch.

"Genevieve? It's late, what's wrong?" Hotch's voice sounded exhausted and full of worry.

"It's Garcia," She said tearfully, her voice quavering. "She's been shot. Bad. Paramedics are here now but- we need to get to the hospital,"

+++

"Penelope Garcia?" A man in scrubs walked into the waiting room. The entire team looked up, their expressions all a mixture of anxiety, restlessness, and fear.

"Yes," Genevieve and Emily said immediately.

"The bullet entered her chest and ricocheted into her abdomen," The doctor said, reading off a clipboard. "It was touch and go for a while, but we were able to repair the injuries,"

"So... what are you saying?" JJ asked cautiously.

"One centimetre over, and it would have torn right through her heart. Instead... she can actually walk out of here in a few days, and I'd say that's a minor miracle,"

The whole team, who had all been subconsciously holding their breath, let out a sigh of relief, wide smiles rippling through the whole group.

Emily and JJ hugged each other tightly, and Genevieve let out a breathy laugh, reaching up to grab Derek's shoulder and squeeze it. He put his hand up to hold hers there for a moment. They looked at each other, and their smiles faded slightly, before he dropped his hand, and she placed hers back into her lap.