Hotchniss

12 (Not Okay)

The man lifts Hotch's head," don't worry about him. He's not dead, yet."

"Come on Hotch, talk to me." She squeezes his sweaty hand in some act of comfort. "Are you okay?" She asks quietly, trying her best to not draw any attention to them. It takes every ounce of strength he has left to lift his head," I'm fine."

Men, all tall dark and an ugly mix of Russian and American, all stand guard at the door. As if two Federal Agents one blind and tied up and the other beaten and shot are going to somehow overpower two fully grown able bodied men, then again one of those agents isn't so tied up anymore.

"Talk to me," she says slowly pulling her hands from the ropes.

"What am I supposed to say?" He asks, head slumped forward.

"Just talk," she says her hands finally slipping out. "Anything."

They seat in silence before his hoarse quiet voice sounds out," when I was in college... my roommate was a Med. School student. He used to teach me his lessons, I enjoyed hearing about it and it helped him. It was like studying." His voice doesn't raise above a whisper," one of the first lessons they teach is that in medicine believing is half the battle. That a patient who believes they're going to die, is almost always going to die." He falls silent for a moment," I think I can understand that, now."

Emily's hands slide free and she sneeks a glance at the men at the door. "Hotch? You're supposed to fight. You promised."

"I-I am." He whispers and she tosses the blindfold to the floor.

"Good," she scoots up in the chair and keeps an eye on the men at the door.

She freezes when the man at the door turns towards them with a smile.

"I don't know if you two pray," sneers the armed dick head at the door," but if you do, now would be a good time."

She slowly leans back in the chair and looks behind her at Hotch's slumped form.

"Please, don't." She leans back as far as the chair allow and starts to untie his hands. "You'll kill him. Please, just leave him be. He needs more time!"

The Man enters with a hunting knife.

"No!" Emily cries, she works fanatically at his ropes. "No, please!"

There's a gun. Just a few feet away. Freedom is the five bullets that hide in its chamber.

The Man flicks the knife open with a small flick of his wrist," to late princess. Your big men are to late."

Big men. Is talking about the team?

"You talked to my team?" Emily asks turning her body so they can't see Hotch's now free hands.

"Do I really look that dumb?" The Man asks moving the knife around with no fear what so ever. "Of course I did."

They can find us.

The Man steps behind Emily, directly in front of Hotch, and let's out a whistle," damn. This boy is a work of art." Emily watches, out of the corner of her eye, as Hotch's dress shirt (what's left of it) is opened for all the men to see. "Damn! Someone did a number on this poor son of a bitch."

Emily feels Hotch's head raise but no words are spoken.

"You guys remember that game they have in those coloring books?" The Man asks, and judging from how stiff Hotch's shoulders are, dragging the knife on Hotch's skin. "My little girl likes it. What's it called.... I'm pretty sure it's called dots and boxes! Yeah." Emily's blood runs cold as she hears the man's voice and smells his breath right by her ear," have you ever played Dots and Boxes Agent?"

Hotch lets out a strangled cry and the Man laughs," guess not. I'll have to teach you." Emily closes her eyes as Hotch's body goes rigid," you gotta connect the lines to make boxes. Like this." Hotch shakes in his chair as the knife is dragged down his chest to make a crooked box out of one of Foyett's old scars. "See? It's easy!"

Emily glances at the two men left. There has been four but for some reason two had left, but why?

"I truly li-" Emily's eyes widen in fear when she feels Hotch's body move away from hers.
She stands up from the chair and the two men rush her. She dives between their legs and catches a glimpse of the Man lying dead with a knife sticking out of his chest. She kicks her legs as the biggest of the two men grabs her ankle.

"Nooo!" Hotch. He runs, better than he should be able to, and Emily freezes as the knife that had not only been in Hotch's chest but also the Man's chest is buried deep into, well, the man currently assaulting her.

The grip on her leg is gone and she seats off for the gun. All she has to do is crawl a few more feet and their home free.

Her hand grips the cold metal and a shiver runs down her body. Her training kicks in and instinctively shoots the second man dead without any hesitation.

"Hotch?" She moves to his side. "Hotch, wake up!"

She lets out a sigh when hazel brown eyes look up into hers. He lifts a trembling hand up to hold her cheek. He wipes away a tear. "You lied to me."

She smiles and a tear runs swiftly down her cheek to the corner of her mouth," yes, I did."

He seats up with a grunt and a moan," it's okay, I suppose." His thumb wipes away a tear stuck just under her eye," you have to leave me. One of these goons is bound to have a phone."

She takes his hand and looks around," okay. I'm gonna check both of these guys for a phone."

He nods and she lays his hand down and inches slowly to the dead man. She bites her tongue as his still warm body bends to her will," got it." She holds his thumb for the phone to scan, it rewards her with a little ding and the screen lights up.

"We're going to get-" she stops mid sentence. "Hotch? Aaron, wake up." She stands and runs back to his side," Aaron this isn't funny! Wake up!"

She instinctively types in the only number she can remember," Dave?" Her voice is raw but he recognizes it immediately," Rossi, it's bad."

"That's okay, kid." He motions to his phone and Garcia starts tracing their call. "Where's Aaron? Is he okay? Are all okay?"

She looks around and it hits her," no. We're not okay."