Chapter 63

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I rub my fingers across the sun pendant. Someone gave me the necklace, I don't remember who. Elle couldn't wear it into surgery and they gave it to me for safekeeping. I remember the morning I gave this to her, the look of pure joy on her face. The memory is quickly replaced by an image of pure terror as the bullet rips into her.

I clasp the chain around my neck, the metal cold against my burning skin.

I hate hospitals. My mother died in one. I'm all too familiar with the blue grey walls of a waiting room, cushioned chairs losing their comfort after hours of stress. I lean forward, my elbows resting on my thighs. I stare off into the space in front of me.

The ambulance arrived a few minutes ago and I was directed here. The room is empty. My hands are clenched in front of me, my knuckles white.

I shouldn't have left. She asked me to stay, and I left.

A million thoughts pass through my mind. But one continues to resurface. Rosa, Elle's mother. I promised her. I promised her I'd keep Elle safe.

And I failed.

I hold up my hands, Elle's blood washed away. But the smell of copper lingers on my skin, splotches of red on my shirt. I imagine my fingers dripping with blood as a gruesome battle rages on in my heart.

In the quiet chill of the room, those blue grey walls close in on me. The oxygen leaks out of my lungs as I stare at the broken pieces of my heart laying on the floor. And in that realization, I know I should feel something. Anything. But the anger doesn't come anymore, and neither do the tears.

All I feel is numb. All I am is broken.

---

My eyes flutter closed for the fifth time and I snap my head back when I notice. I've been sitting here for three hours. No updates, no one seems to know anything. I jump in my seat when my phone rings, my hand flying to my gun.

Sighing, I pick up the call. "Yeah." My voice is emotionless.

"I'm on my way. Anything?" Hotch asks.

I shake my head to the empty room. "No. I'm going to get an update." I lean back in my chair. "Have we gotten anywhere with Garner?"

Randall Garner, Rebecca's father, is our unsub. He kidnapped his own daughter, convinced in his mind that she is the Holy Grail, that he is the Fisher King, and that our team are the Knights of the Round Table. It's insane. It's delusional. And part of me wishes it were true if it meant I could strike him down with a sword.

Hotch is quiet on the other end for a moment. "He hasn't given us anything. But you made the right choice, going for the arm."

"Tell that to Elle," I spit out.

"This isn't your fault, Carli."

"You weren't there Hotch. I could've... I should've done something. Anything. I promised..." I trail off, not wanting to give too much away.

"I'll be there soon," he changes the subject. "Go get an update and I'll meet you at the front desk."

"Alright. Bye." I hang up the phone and stand. I immediately feel dizzy and stumble backwards, putting one hand to the wall to keep from sinking back into my chair. Once the disorientation passes, I leave the waiting room and approach the front desk.

"Excuse me?" I ask the woman there. She wears light blue scrubs and her dark hair is pulled back into a tight knot. She looks to be about ten years older than me, and is a couple inches shorter.

"Yes, can I help you?"

"Yeah, I'm looking for an update on my... partner," I answer slowly.

"Name?"

"Elle. Elle Greenaway." I lean forward onto the counter as I'm reminded of the weakness of my legs.

"Ah. You're the FBI agent."

I try to give a small smile. "I guess I am, yeah."

"Well, she's still in surgery, but the doctors are hopeful." She pauses when she notices my unfocused gaze. "Agent? Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Do you have, uh, water, maybe?" My words slur together as my head dips to one side.

"Of course. Maybe I should get... ma'am?"

Her image blurs as my vision swims. My legs sway under me and I sense the ground getting closer. A voice calls my name but the sound is distant. The last thing I feel before the darkness overtakes me is strong arms slowing my descent to the cold floor.

---

I blink away the darkness but quickly shut my eyes again, the hospital lights blinding. Slowly, the world around me comes back into focus. A man sits to my right in a suit while another in blue scrubs stands to my left.

My eyes open all the way and I look into the concerned face of Hotch.

"What happened?" I groan.

"You passed out," Hotch tells me. "I caught you as you fell."

I sit up only to be met with his hands pushing me back down. "Elle? Where's Elle?"

"She's still in surgery."

"I need to-"

"C, all you need right now is rest." His voice is gentle, caring even. Giving in, I lie back against the pillow. I'm still in my bloody shirt and jeans from earlier today. At least they didn't put me in a hospital gown. My left arm is freshly wrapped, the clean white gauze standing out on my bloodied skin.

I direct my attention to the nurse standing beside me. "Why did I black out?"

"Blood loss, dehydration, and extreme sleep deprivation," he informs me. "When was the last time you slept?"

"What time is it?"

"5:17."

I do some quick math in my head. "59 hours. If you mean longer than a thirty minute nap." The nurse stares at me incredulously. I simply shrug. "When can I get out of here?" I ask him.

"We're pumping you with fluids, it'll be another twenty minutes."

"Just hurry up," I grumble.

Hotch sighs. "Carli, you need to rest."

"I need to be there when she wakes up."

"I know."

"No, Hotch, I need to be there," I insist.

He brings his eyes to mine. "I know."

I hold his gaze as understanding dawns on me. "We were going to tell you. And I promise, it never got in the way of work-"

"Carli, we can talk about this when you're not in a hospital bed."

I tip my chin down in acknowledgement. The corner of Hotch's mouth twitches up for just a moment. "I have to get back to the BAU. We're gathering a strike team. Gideon will be here soon."

I nod again. Hotch stands, turning to the nurse. "Make sure she gets full treatment. And ignore her complaints."

I roll my eyes but a slight smile touches my lips. Hotch nods to me once before turning away.

"Hotch?" I call after him. He glances back. "Thank you."

He smiles, a rare occasion. I watch as he weaves his way through the crowd and disappears through the front door.

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