The world was fuzzy when Morgan woke. He blinked slowly, bringing the world back into focus. Around him were five faces. He recognized them.
"Look who's back." One of them said cheerfully as they realized he was awake. It was Rossi. Next to him were Hotch, Blake, Reid and Prentiss. Prentiss looked terrible; her face was unnaturally pale and there were large dark circles under her eyes. Morgan suspected she hadn't slept in the last 48 hours.
Aside from a forced power nap because Hotch had threatened to cut off the power lead of the coffee machine if she didn't get some sleep, she hadn't.
"What… What happened?" Morgan asked slowly, his throat was croaky and he couldn't work out why.
"You don't remember?" Blake asked carefully.
Morgan shook his head slightly, trying to determine why his body felt like it had been strapped to one of those rodeo fair rides for 2 hours straight. Prentiss exchanged a worried glance with Hotch. The seven hours between hearing JJ's voice telling her where Morgan would be and actually finding Morgan there had been the longest seven hours of their lives. Especially that last hour. And then when Morgan had finally appeared, he'd all but given them a heart attack.
Hotch and Rossi were sat in the surveillance van, with Reid in the back. Emily and Blake were sat at a café across the street, constantly scanning the surrounding street. Above the hubbub of people on their way to work, Prentiss thought she heard a banging. "Do you hear that?" she asked Blake quickly. Blake listened carefully for a moment, then nodded.
They stood up and moved onto the sidewalk, listening intently. It was a metallic clang, not particularly loud, but definitely noticeable. "Hotch, I think we've got something." Emily said into her radio. She looked around but still couldn't find the source of the noise.
Suddenly they heard a louder clang, followed by a scraping noise. Both women whirled around as a car horn blazed past them. The first thing they saw was Morgan, hauling himself out of a manhole about two thirds of the way into the street, his torso flat against the ground and his chest heaving, with the lower half of his body still hidden by the hole. Then they saw a car going at least 40mph headed his way.
"Hotch pull out!" Blake shrieked down the radio.
"What?" came Hotch's confused reply.
"Just do it!" Emily yelled desperately, horribly aware that Morgan didn't appear to have a clue what was going on, or the strength to drag himself out of harm's way. Relief flooded her as she heard two loud screeching sounds; one was Hotch pulling out into the street, the other was the car's breaks squealing as it ground to an abrupt halt.
Dodging cars, she and Blake dashed across the street to where Rossi was dragging Morgan to the sidewalk. She gasped as she saw the state he was in. He was trembling and exhausted, his face was covered in an array of bruises of varying color and size; the same patchwork display also covered what she could see of his shoulders and arms. In his right hand was clutched what looked like a filthy length of bandage. In his left was a somewhat crushed box of matches and the burnt down remains of a candle; a large quantity of wax appeared to have melted onto his fingers.
His eyes were wide and he was jabbering incessantly. "JJ… JJ… I couldn't save her. Why wouldn't she come with me? I was going to save her…" He faded for a moment and looked around.
"Hotch" Emily spoke urgently, "We need to get him to a hospital…" She stopped as Morgan looked up at her.
"Why wouldn't she come with me?" He asked her, although he didn't appear to see her, his eyes were distant. Then they focused suddenly. "I have to go back. I have to bring her home." He muttered, struggling to his feet and pushing past the team back into the street.
