heaven in a wildflower [criminal minds]

chapter eight - moon on your pyjamas

Derek held my head gently as their hands lowered me onto the floor.

"Es, Esme baby can you hear me?" he shouted,

I opened my mouth to reply, feeling my throat burn, I coughed, lifting my hand to my mouth I saw blood escape my lips.

Emily knelt beside me, trying to apply pressure to the wound sending a shooting pain through my body.

The ceiling moved quickly above my head, as I was wheeled down the hospital hallway, the ceiling was made from those polystyrene squares laid on a grid-like frame.

The smell of antiseptic and medicine filled my nose making me feel drowsy.

The light is too bright for my eyes, and the noises are drowned out by an abrasive ringing in my ears.

"18-year-old penetrating gunshot wound to the lower back and abdominal wall, GCS 11 at the scene, she's had 10mg of diazepam and 1g of IV paracetamol, airway has been maintained with intubation at the scene.

BP 150 over 90, and she tachycardic with a heart rate of 110. Let's get a primary survey, and straight to CT, and let theatre know we are coming up.

She needs a chest tube and a neuro exam.

Esme- Esme, my name is Doctor Scott, we are going to take care of you, you are going to be fine."

"Are you family?"

"No, but I'm her medical proxy"

"And you are?"

"Agent Aaron Hotchner"

"Come with me please Agent"

"Will someone call Leona?"

Little particles of dust floated around in the sunlight as Spencer slouched in the uncomfortable plastic chair in the waiting room.

It wasn't the team's first time together in a hospital, the cold sensation of the white hallways, and the smell of lemon disinfectant was uncomfortably familiar to them.

Spencer wrapped his ankles around the cold metal on the leg of the chair, Penelope grabbed his hand and held it tightly.

Henry was asleep on JJ's chest; she ran her hands gently through his hair, stroking his ear.

The guilt sat not on her stomach but inside her brain. It was like gasoline in her head. Her insides died slowly in the toxicity, needing no more than a spark to set it ablaze. The fire burnt her out so badly there was nothing left but a shell, an outline of a person.

She stared into the abyss; the monotone drone of the hospital made her dissociate.

She took a deep breath trying to slow her thoughts. She tried to convince herself it wasn't her fault, that it was just one of those things that happens.

But there was no escaping the fact that if she hadn't, then Esme would be safe now.

Rossi sat completely still, his hand occasionally moving as he rested his face in his palm, fumbling with the signet ring on his finger.

Hotch kept walking to the nurse's station, asking for updates.

Emily sat with Derek, there was a comfortable silence between them, they needed not a gesture to show their support, they knew.