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what you leave behind
THE EMTS ARRIVE FIRST. Jane can hear the sirens echo through the night and her head falls back against the bed in relief.
They find them quickly in the back bedroom, all of them their own bloody mess. Jane clears her throat, pointing towards Kristin and Derek. "32 year old female, was beaten and repeatedly assaulted. Her pulse is low, and she's got blood in her lungs. She needs oxygen, and– and a rape kit,"
Two of the paramedics nod and hurry over to Kristin, one of them ordering a stretcher for transport.
She points at Derek, the man propped up against the footboard of the bed with a distant glare on his face. "He's got a head injury. He might need stitches, and he definitely needs to be monitored for a concussion."
"Jane, I'm not going to the hospital,"
"Derek,"
"I am not going to the hospital when Ellie's still out there," He says lowly, looking at her with that hollow, pleading look.
Swallowing roughly, she nods. "Just– just check him out and clean him up. Make sure he doesn't have any internal bleeding," She hesitates, hands still clutching onto Matt's body halfway in her lap. She waits until Kristin's been loaded onto the stretcher and wheeled out of the bedroom before she makes any move to speak again. "35 year old male, GSW to the heart. Time of death... time of death, 10:24 p.m."
"We'll have to take him to the hospital anyway," One of the EMTs says, earning a nod from Jane.
"I know, but– wait until his sister is gone, okay? She doesn't need to see him like this,"
They share a knowing look but nod, their attention shifting to Jane herself. "Are you hurt?"
She shakes her head. "No, it's– it's not my blood, I'm fine," She shifts, helping them lay Matt out on the floor so she can stand.
She follows one of the EMTs out into the dining room where Derek's seated, the wound on his forehead being swiped at with a sterile wipe. Jane practically falls into the chair beside him, shivers traveling through her body every few seconds despite the fact that it's 100 degrees outside.
A man in a suit walks up to them, and Jane knows he's one of the cops that came as backup. "Where's Detective Spicer?"
Jane's eyes drift to the hallway. "He's gone,"
The man's face shifts, a flash of grief shining in his eyes. "How?"
"The unsub shot him," Derek grunts, glaring past the man at a spot on the wall that would likely be on fire if such a thing were possible. "Point blank."
