Hotchniss

5 (Blow It Up)

Owen Smith has shown obvious signs of aggression and violence since the age of nine. When Smith turned eleven, he was sentenced a year in a javelin detention center. There he nearly killed another child with a candy cane. Smith was moved into the care of a special needs foster care facility, where he remained until he was fifteen. He was taken in by the Balkers' at age seventeen. He lived with them until he turned eighteen; then he was sent off to the University of Maryland. There he almost disappeared without a trace. Then girls, aging from twenty to twenty four, started showing up dead in ditches.

"You're bleeding."

She can't help how blunt her words are. She can't even lift her head; she can only lay her head against his shoulder and observe the blood flowing down his chest.

"As are you," is his slow response. He stumbles along with her in his arms. He can't leave her.

"You should have left me," she grips his shirt as a wave of pain shoots through her damaged body.

"I take care of this team, Prentiss," he grits out as he stumbles out of the beaten building and down the sidewalk. "You're a part of my team and I most certainly don't leave my team behind." He winces and pulls her up a little higher," you're my friend. I can't leave you."

He can feel her breathing against him," Emily. Just call me Emily."

He stops to look down at her. She's dying in his arms," okay... Emily." They're dying.

She smiles and pats his chest softly," when this is all over, I owe you a drink."

He manages a pained half-smile," agreed."

He resumes his drunken like stumble down the sidewalk. Where is everyone? A building just blew up and no one's around. Where could they be?

"H-Hotch?" Emily says, the hand on his shirt gripping tighter. "No one's around."

"I know." He says and he can feel his legs starting to fall out from beneath him.

"Hotch you have to leave me," she says and they make a brief eye contact that makes Hotch want to fight even more.

"It's fine," he says falling to one knee. He can't get her to the medical attention she needs. "It's gonna be okay."

He falls over but saves her from cracking her skull against the cement with his hand. The air rushes out of his lungs as he doubles over. He gasp for breathe but it's like his lungs have holes in them.

Emily sees the way his eyes open in shock as he finds himself fighting for air.

"Hotch?" She asks trying to get her throbbing body to work. To do anything to help him the way he's helped her. "Hotch, you have to tell me what's wrong."

All the sudden he can't breathe at all. He can taste blood but he can't get a grip on the air that he so desperately needs.

His arms give out and he lays limp on the cement as he gasp.

"Hotch, please." Emily begs grabbing his hand. Tears fall down her face as she watches him struggle. "It's gonna be okay," she soothes,rubbing her thumb over his flexing hand. "You're gonna be okay."

Hotch wants to say something. To be some love cliche so he can at least tell her how he feels before he dies, but his damn lungs don't work.

"Em-" he manages squeezing her hand as much as he can. Trying desperately to convey the message he can't voice.